DominikBlasko

Hi,
So exciting, because I am too hoping to do a "soviet tour" to catch aircraft types that are impossible to find elsewhere. So you inspired me to do that. Thanks for this. What a great read and your photos are amazing as well.

Pseudo Nim

Hurry... they're slowly going away. The Tu-134 in this article is gone as of last week:
Soon they'll only be left in North Korea, but that's actually really expensive to fly (not to mention... you know, various peripheral challenges of actually going there), so maybe not the easiest achieved checkmark.

cockpitvisit

OMG, you can even see on the video how uneven taxiways and the runway are.

jlisi984

We actually received a gate in Novosibirsk, a rarity! Stepping into the jetbridge I was greeted by frigid air that smelled of coal. Ahh, welcome to Siberia. A jaunt of staircase exercise (what is it with airports loving to put so many staircases for passengers with luggage?) and we went to store P’s carry-on luggage. Of course, signage was lacking, and would disappear and reappear, so we finally had to ask S7 staff for assistance finding it. A closed door opened to reveal a man sitting beside a desk, rather unhappy we had interrupted his slumber. After taking the requisite details from my passport (bureaucracy!) and paying the required amount in cash using a fancy touchscreen machine (apparently cash would otherwise disappear) we left to find the Alrosa check-in desks. Unfortunately, these hadn’t opened yet, and the marvellous boarding-pass-printing machine I love so much did not work for Alrosa. Our connection was of just over two hours between 1:00 am and 3:20 am, probably one of the most dreadful things one can experience as a passenger, but sometimes it is necessary to suffer to reap the rewards. We headed to the Priority Pass lounge before security, but didn’t bother entering when it became apparent it looked like one of those sex-video booths (not that either of us would actually know what they look like in real life). A bunch of little rooms with awful faux-leather sofas and curtains, and a lonely, unhappy-looking woman manning a desk, behind which there was a fridge with drinks. No thank you.

By this time, there was a long line-up in front of a particular check-in desk, and we stood in this line without any indication of whether it was indeed the Alrosa check-in, using only our intuition and judging by the passengers, their luggage, and the lack of other departures. Sure enough, after five minutes an agent showed up and started checking the passengers in. It was slow going, and we were at the end of the line, so I proposed we decamp to a nearby cafe to get some tea and just sit down.



Since P won’t turn down an opportunity to перекусить (snack), we looked at the menu and both quickly settled on borscht. I mean, who could decline an opportunity to eat borscht with tea at 2:00 am in Novosibirsk airport? He went about ordering. P: Two borschts and two black teas. “OK, two borschts, and one tea”. No, no, two teas. “No, you need one tea.” No, we are two people, we want two teas. “No, tea is served in teapot, you need one tea.” OK then!





The borscht was indeed very good, and by the time we were finished, the check-in line was only 4 people deep, so we retrieved our boarding passes and headed through security.



Just like on the boarding pass (bilingual), note the luggage tag having the Russian airport designation МИР - which, by the way, means “peace” or “world” in Russian. Mirny would be “peaceful”.



The farcicality of Russian security was on full display once more. The screener asked me whether I had a razor. Yes, I have a razor - here. *looking at the razor and package, then looking in the plastic liquids bag* “Ah, you see, this aerosol is flammable, so it can’t go on plane”. Aha, OK, sorry, you can throw it out then. “No, no, it OK, for next time.” OK then!

Past security there was another lounge, this one commonly used by all airlines. There was absolutely nothing of interest in it, other than some seating and non-alcoholic drinks (and even then, the water was not bottled but out of a dispenser). Since the flight showed as boarding, we left immediately and headed to the gate.





To be perfectly frank, the airport terminal was quite ugly, with no charm and a bunch of shops selling nonsensical items such as big ride-in toy cars for children. At the very least, everything was open at this ridiculous hour, so if you wanted to buy a grumpy cat or a toy car, you could!



The gate area was frigid, it looked like bunch of corrugated metal shipping containers added to the main terminal, and the radiators were off (or not working). This was also the slowest boarding I’ve witnessed in a long time, partially due to the fact the plane had already flown in from Krasnodar with through-passengers, and they were checking each of these by hand off of a long list.





Maybe it’s time for a few words about Alrosa here. Alrosa is a diamond mining company, operating Mirny, Polyarny/Udachny, and some other mines. They also operate an airline by the same name, and from third-party knowledge on a Russian forum (yes, the veracity of this statement is indisputable) employees get free tickets for leave/holidays/to go home, but only on Alrosa. Good thing we could also buy tickets as regular passengers on these “semi-charter” flights.

The Alrosa 737-800 also was parked at a gate position, and we passed through the business class cabin (only two rows - supposedly no such configuration exists if the inflight magazine is to be believed) and headed towards the exit row, which we were able to reserve at check-in without charge. At check-in we had been told the flight was “almost full”, but once boarding was completed, it became apparent this was far from the case, and the middle seat between us would remain free.









We took off with a 15-minute delay, and an announced flying time of 2h40, while the sun was already rising at around 3:40 am.





I slept through the whole flight as best I could, and P did the same, waking only to accept the flight attendant bearing a gift of a midnight meal, which he also graciously took on my behalf.





I spent the few waking moments perusing the fascinating in-flight magazine, which had plenty of “interesting” pictures of this cover-girl…



…as well as some fleet details.



Cloud cover was rather low to the ground, and when we broke through, Mirny was visible immediately. The first obvious point was this sort of brown colour to everything.



Then, a big surprise: the massive hole Mirny is “famous” for came into full view just under the wing.







The landing was very noisy and rough, largely due to the runway fabricated from stressed concrete slabs, typical for more remote airports built during Soviet times.

We made a 180-degree turn at the threshold of the runway, and taxied back to the terminal, passing many interesting aircraft and buildings on the way.







We disembarked by the front door, passing by the first row of economy, which had tremendous legroom.



We were greeted by the reassuring and amazing sight of the Tu-134 being “de-iced” by jet engine on a boom truck. More about this in the next post…





I only managed to take these three pictures before being told off by the curt ground crew, a memorable line, roughly translated “human, what do you think you’re doing?!”. OK, time to put away the camera…

Pseudo Nim

Looking at the pictures, I think what you meant to say was that you "passed by the Alrosa outdoor parts depot".

cockpitvisit

Wow, now you are getting into really interesting places!

Did you need any special permit from the Russian authorities to be allowed to go to Mirny?

Pseudo Nim

GetSetJetSet

Great report. I don't think i'd be comfortable flying ancient Soviet equipment on no-name Russian carriers though haha.

sincx

One of the best trip reports I've seen! Thanks so much for sharing, and looking forward to the rest!

jlisi984

In order to make all the flights mesh together, we had to book a one-hour connection in Mirny on the outbound to Polyarny. Unbelievably, Mirny actually has a listed minimum connection time - including for non-existent international flights. The domestic-to-domestic minimum connection is 20 minutes, so one hour theoretically is plenty. But obviously Mirny is not set up for connections - like many Russian airports, there’s a separate arrivals shack and departures building.

The bus taking us from our inbound aircraft (one bus fit the “nearly-full” 737) stopped in front of the arrivals hall. A few snow-and-ice covered steps led up to the shack, and everybody squeezed through one open door.



Inside was a room with a luggage belt which we quickly exited. So quickly, in fact, that P nearly fell on the ice-covered wooden steps outside, barely arresting his fall by grabbing onto the only solid object nearby - me. P is a Canadian-in-exile - obviously he has been away from his homeland for too long. A visit to a Siberian hospital was certainly not on the agenda, especially in light of the recent NYT article presenting the reality of Russian rural life - a general surgeon makes only ~8,000 USD a year.

Crisis averted, we strode quickly yet carefully towards the departures building, about 250 meters down a road. Just off to the right was a spectacular mosaic, presenting the An-24, Tu-134, and Tu-154 - a snapshot of the legends of Soviet aviation.







The “аэропорт” sign adorned every airport edifice in the USSR, accompanied by the hammer-and-sickle-in-wings symbol of Aeroflot. Some airports have removed the hammer and sickle, others have kept it in tact, and in the case of Mirny, the central portion has been replaced by the Alrosa symbol.



As usual, before entering the checkin hall there was a security check. Here the lady was curious about “two metal objects in my bag”, which were quickly narrowed down to my camera lenses. She let me pass further only after a thorough inspection, certainly she was making sure the lenses were clear of fungus and haze. At first glance, there was no mention of our Polyarny flight, and the desks were taking care of the next flight already. However, a lady was standing to the left of the desk, and somehow she identified us as being the last two passengers to Polyarny, handing us two pre-printed boarding passes. First-class service!



After the requisite passport check and second security control, we were in the waiting room. Lit only by the natural light filtered from outside, entertainment was provided by the lone flatscreen TV in the corner playing racy music videos - both Russian and Western.



But more amusing to us was the An-28 turboprop startup outside. It was started once, then turned off, and a few men came up and looked at something. Then it was started again and off it went.



In the meantime, it was only 15 minutes to departure, and boarding had yet to start. A bad sign?

Further entertainment came driving past the window, in the form of the de-icing equipment: a hefty old Zil boom-truck with a small jet-engine attached to the end of the boom, and upgraded to “modern standards” by attaching a regular security camera right above the jet, to give the operator an idea of where the jet was being directed. Certainly not the way one would de-ice a plane with any composite materials, but of course, Soviet flying machines were solid all-metal constructions. For what it’s worth, the Antonov 28 had been de-iced using a regular truck with fluid - I love that the original methods are still used for the Tupolev 134.



As we were marvelling at the de-icing jet, a bus pulled up, a gate agent showed up, a quick announcement was made, and the passengers quickly made their way to the exit.



Only a short ride to the airplane, passing this Ilyushin-76 which was the only one in presentable condition at the airport. Of note in regards to the missing engine is the fact that Soloviev D-30 engines were used in the Il-76, Il-62, Tu-134, and Tu-154 - and for good measure, the Mig-31, which can fly Mach 5. Speak of fleet commonality!



Passing by the Tu-154M we were hoping to fly later in the day…



In the bus, P made contact with M, who was obviously in Mirny also exclusively for the flying experience. M was from near Novosibirsk, and was a general transportation fan - the only other avgeek on this flight: the very last Tu-134 to Polyarny. We were all glad not to be on the final flight (this was Friday, the final flight was on Tuesday) to Novosibirsk, which would be packed with avgeeks, all with the same desires as us. Here, we were just interlopers on a regular flight.

Wary of the photography police always nearby, I still managed to take some pictures during the boarding process - the airstairs used are also an original Soviet design, making this experience very authentic.





Unfortunately it was immediately obvious that the interior of the Tu-134 had entirely lost its original Soviet flair. This aircraft was owned by the famous Russian/Soviet singer Alla Pugacheva between 1998-9. Evidently the interior had been “modernized” in those days, this included removal of the famous curtain window shades and replacement by ill-fitting oval-shaped modern ones, a different overhead console, overhead bins, silver air vents, Sony car speakers, and so forth. Still, we were on the last operational Tu-134 in passenger service, so nothing could break our happy bubble.









P, M, and I settled into the last rows of the Tu-134 for the iconic view encompassing the engine and wing, and were quickly approached by a very affable older flight attendant. She understood the purpose of our trip, and immediately said we could take pictures of everything we wanted, with the exception of the crew. She also explained that the Yakutsk flights had very low loads, and therefore the Tu-134 was taken off of that segment. This outbound to Polyarny was rather empty, but the return was to be full - probably why the aircraft had been put on this route.



Our interest in the safety demonstration was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of an Angara Airlines An-148, another aircraft on my list of “must-fly” types.



Shortly afterwards, the other flight attendant, a beautiful but frosty young lady with Asian features, came up and admonishingly said that I had already been told not to take pictures of the crew. In fact, I had not been taking any pictures whatsoever and was flummoxed by this accusation, and told her so. “OK, can I take a look?” Showing her my last pictures, she was apparently satisfied - this episode served to demonstrate the bizarre fear of photography prevalent in Russia.

There was a short taxi to the runway, and a fantastic-sounding engine run-up at the threshold. Once this was completed, the pilot made an announcement about take-off, and the engines were returned to high throttle, brakes were released, and we were off. By the time Vr (take-off speed) had been achieved, the whole aircraft was shaking so furiously that I thought parts were going to start flying off. Instead, we rocketed into the sky and quickly entered the dense cloud cover.





Once in the air, we quickly got to work collecting safety cards, of which it became apparent there were two types (old and new). Normally I don’t collect these, but considering the aircraft had only 5 flights left after ours, we explained it to ourselves as a form of recycling and a superb souvenir. Once the cards were secured, I went about writing my postcards, which proved fascinating to the flight attendant. Seeing us writing, she went to fetch the “inflight comment book”, used to gather compliments and complaints, in the typical way Soviet bureaucracy. The preceding entry was by a German avgeek in 2018, but the main attraction was a super-long complaint letter (stretching over 10 pages) written by one man, spurred by the lack of a candy on take-off, and went on to encompass the airline boss and the history of Alrosa.











One of the “upgrades” the plane had received over time was the advent of Latin-script seat numbers, these were taped over with the original Cyrillic-lettering system.





Most seats had had their seatbelts replaced, too - but at one there was still the original, very heavy clasp, machined out of solid metal.



Inflight service comprised of water and juices poured from large bottles, and once this was complete, we stepped back to inspect the toilet. Here, we were surprised by a window - and not a window like you find in premium cabins on wide-body aircraft. It was a skylight - a window looking up to the blue sky. Truly a special feature and great view!













The flight passed by very quickly, and soon we were descending back through the clouds to land at Polyarny. One of the aspects I had been excited about before this trip was seeing the boreal forest up close, and on this landing I got my chance to appreciate the endless expanse it encompasses. Unlike Mirny, Udachny (the town/mine served by Polyarny airport) is distant from the landing strip, so the view was uninterrupted by civilization.





We landed in light snow, once again rattling away down the runway. The landing was so violent that all unoccupied chairs folded over - an ingenious safety feature.



The garbage can in the toilet also flung open, exposing the rugged innards.



After making a 180-degree turn at the end of the runway, we taxied back towards the terminal building.



The airport complex came into sight, and we parked at a slight angle a small distance away. Unusual airstairs were already visible, this time not the typical Soviet type but a UAZ truck converted to serve the purpose.



Making our way to the front, we bode farewell to the crew, and I continued taking pictures unabashed on the airstairs, empowered by the trio we now formed. The security officer was sitting in his UAZ, and didn’t bother coming out to tell us off, preferring instead to lean on his horn.





We went into stealth mode and continued to take pictures, happily walking under the nose (!) of the Tu-134 towards the arrivals hall, once again a separate building. There was a sizeable layer of snow, which in some places had formed small snowbanks that needed to be stepped over. Welcome to winter in May!







Once up the steps into the arrivals hall, all passengers were quickly ushered out, to the bewilderment of many - they were told to go to the main building, and that an announcement would be made to return to the arrivals hall when their luggage was ready to be collected.



Here we are, P and I happily in front of Polyarny airport in the Siberian snow.

757

Wow, amazing continuation of your report. What a trip!

jlisi984

Thank you DominikBlasko - you should definitely try to catch them ASAP, it seems their days are really numbered.

Indeed, as I mentioned in the next post, the runways are made from prefab concrete slabs, which inevitably move around - especially since the ground here isn't exactly stable!

Indeed.

As Pseudo Nim posted, no permits required. There are some "border regions" of Russia which require hard-to-obtain special permits, and may not even be close to a border.

Thank you! Well, as they say, flying is still safer than driving to the airport... This also applies in Russia, although both are exponentially more dangerous.

Thank you!

ironmanjt

Wow - great shots and jealous of all the Soviet types! When was this trip? Monino looks very very much warmer than my trip just over two months ago!

Romanianflyer

What a fantastic trip report. I have a weird fascination for remote and unknown places in the ex-USSR, so you can imagine my delight reading this. I especially loved the arrival snaps at Mirny with the big hole!

Thanks for taking the time to post it.

UAL250

One of the best TRs I've ever seen on FT. I look forward to the rest. I agree with Romanianflyer and others, it's fascinating to get a look at non-Moscow/St Petersburg Russia. Very rarely seen for us in the West, so I appreciate you risking taking photos for us in these places!

Although I must admit, you could not pay me to fly on some of these planes/airlines!