250 Chapter 6
Tourist groups noted that their treatment was often inferior to that accorded
other groups of socialist tourists; in some cases they attributed this to their
well-known lack of spending money. A Hungarian guide “considered us to
be second-class people because we wanted to shop at discount stores.” Soviet
tourism offi cials also shared some of this disdain for the barbarian tourists,
with their inappropriate clothing and primitive table manners.^118 And tour-
ists from Eastern Europe to the Soviet Union fared even worse: the Bulgar-
ian Georgi Markov recalled being told by Inturist in Leningrad in 1959 that
tourists like him from other communist countries were “third-class,” of no
interest, because they brought no hard currency.^119 Engaging in international
tourism brought Soviet practices into a head-on collision with the market,
and here the market won.
The combination of defensive and aggressive Soviet pride led tourists to
long for familiar surroundings even while abroad. The preference for So-
viet meals and folk dances marked this portable vacation identity. They felt
happier singing songs around a campfi re with Czech vacationers than sitting
formally in a nightclub, especially when they could not afford to purchase
a cocktail. They also felt better when they could watch Soviet programs on
foreign television, view Soviet fi lms in the cinema, and follow the news from
Moscow on their radios and in Russian newspapers. “Our tourists from Chu-
vashia, Baku, and Chita are literally worn out with yearning for news from
the Homeland.”^120 To hear a jazz band in Greece or Italy playing the Russian
melody “Moscow Nights” made tourists feel not so far from home. Bulgaria
emerged as a favored destination for Soviet tourists by the end of the 1960s
because it seemed so familiar. The mountains reminded tourists of the North
Caucasus, and their “streets and squares bore our countrymen’s names like
Gagarin, Skobelev, and Lenin.” And the Bulgarians showed great respect for
the Soviet people.^121 Again, one might question the genuineness of this Soviet
patriotism, since these sentiments would defi nitely appeal to the trade union
and Communist Party offi cials who read these reports. But it is unreasonable
to assume that all Soviet tourists (or citizens) were secret opponents of the
regime, yearning to break free. And it is a normal feature of international- GARF, f. 9520, op. 1, d. 893, ll. 65–66 (quote); d. 721, l. 24; d. 1115, l. 5; d. 468, ll.
51–54. See Anne E. Gorsuch, “Time Travelers: Soviet Tourists to Eastern Europe,” in Gor-
such and Koenker, Turizm , 221–225. - Georgi Markov, The Truth That Killed , trans. Liliana Brisby, with an introduction by
Annabel Markov (London, 1983), 89. - GARF, f. 9520, op. 1, d. 865, ll. 37, 51; d. 407, l. 48; d. 866, ll. 66, 42 (quote); d. 716,
l. 50; d. 878, l. 84. By 1976, tour groups were well supplied with Soviet sources of informa-
tion, according to Aleksei Popov’s study of the Crimean tourist bureau. Perhaps this was a re-
sponse to earlier requests, or an attempt to insulate Soviet tourists from uncontrolled sources
of news in post-1968 Eastern Europe, or both. Popov, “Sovetskie turisty za rubezhom.” - Martenovka , 14 August 1958; “Bulgaria—Land of Open Hearts,” Martenovka , 28
July 1964; 30 July 1964; Skorokhodovskii rabochii , 5 June 1968; Znamia trekhgorki , 4 August