A glimpse of home Many of Meduza’s readers are in exile. We asked those in Russia to grant their holiday wishes by sending photos of the places they miss.
2024 has finally come to an end. Normally, we’d throw in a tired joke here about how difficult the year was. But frankly, it wasn’t just difficult — for many, it was devastating. It marked the third year of full-scale war in Ukraine, the death of Alexey Navalny, and even more domestic repressions from the Kremlin. If you’re a regular reader of Meduza, you already know all of this. But as we begin a new year, we hold on to the hope that 2025 will be better. There are no guarantees, but our hope comes from you, our readers.
In late November, we launched a holiday project aimed at connecting those who had left Russia with those still there, even if just for the holidays. We asked readers who can't return home to share what they missed, and we invited those still in Russia to send a piece of home to our readers abroad. It’s hard to believe, but it worked: together, our readers in Russia granted more than 70 New Year’s wishes. Take a look at some of them below.
The quotes in this article have been lightly edited for clarity.
Postcards from Moscow
From: Nadezha
To: Konstantin, who currently lives in the Netherlands and misses walking through the Krylatskoe Hills
I lived most of my life in Moscow’s Krylatskoye District and loved walking through the hills at night and in the evenings. If you climb up to the highest hill, you’ll see a bicycle track, the Ice Palace, and basically the entire city. I’d like to see those evening lights in panorama. And then to go down to the creek, where the church is, to hear it babbling.
Thanks for giving me a reason to go here! The panoramic view of the city speaks for itself, but I was even more impressed by the sonic landscape. “Sigma Boy” overlapping with the ringing of church bells — is that not a sign of the times we’re in?
From: Masha and her daughter Glasha
To: Tasha, who lives in Georgia and misses Moscow’s Rusakovskaya Embankment
Tasha — my daughter and I filmed this video on December 21, the darkest day of the year. From here on out, it’s only going to get lighter — and when the darkness is completely gone, you’ll come back, get on your bike, and go to Artplay for a beer! We truly believe this — and we can’t wait for your return. Happy New Year, Tasha!
From: Two readers in Moscow
To: Tasya, who lives in Indianapolis, U.S., and misses Izmailovsky Park
I loved riding the tram through Izmailovsky Park — especially in the winter. It felt like a fairy tale. The winter forest, the click, clack of the wheels, the patterns on the windows — pure romance!
It just so happens that I’ve been taking this route to work for the last few months: I take the tram as far as Partizanskaya, and from there I take the metro. I managed to snap a photo of the tram approaching the stop at about 7:50 a.m. It was cold outside, though it started warming up by the evening — the snow started melting, and the New Year’s magic was gone. The morning twilight might be the best time for these kinds of photos: you can see the snow, but you can’t see the mud, which ruins the holiday mood.
Unfortunately, I haven’t felt that New Year’s magic in recent years. But as soon as I learned about Tasya’s request, it made me happy — I had the chance to grant someone’s wish, and it wasn’t hard at all.
My dear Tasya, I understand and appreciate your love for the trams in Izmaylovsky Park. They’re beautiful all year round — in the winter, in the summer, and in any weather. I’m sorry you’re not able to experience that atmosphere in person, but I hope my photo will help you feel a connection to this place — and return to it, even if just in your thoughts. I’m sure you have wonderful memories tied to it. I hope they keep you warm throughout the new year!
One more letter for Tasya
I wish you as many warm emotions and memories as possible in the new year! Don’t lose hope for a brighter future (or, if you need to, find it again), and don’t let anxiety and sadness take over completely. I also hope that everyone soon gets the chance to ride the tram through Izmaylovsky Park, eat Borodinsky bread, and stomp through the snow!
The sound of the tram
From: Tatyana
To: Alexey, who currently lives in the Netherlands and misses his outdoor gym
You could even call it a forest — a real, wild, untamed one. This is my favorite place in Moscow, an oasis of peace and quiet within walking distance of the city center. In this forest, there’s a spot where people set up an open-air gym, which they called the “Slavic gym.” There’s homemade workout equipment there made from sticks and railway debris.
I’d like to grant the wish of Alexey from the Netherlands. He writes that he misses Timiryazevsky Park. I also live in this area, and it’s one of my favorite parks. Long, quiet walks there have saved me on more than one occasion. But I recently learned that they’re planning to modernize the park. Very sad news.
From: Anna
To: Roman, who currently lives in Tokyo and misses Doctor’s Sausage
I really miss Doctor’s Sausage. The only Russian store in Tokyo that used to import it has shut down due to supply issues. Last New Year’s Eve, I managed to eat some Olivye [salad] made with the classic recipe, but this year, it looks like I’m going to have to make do with some lackluster Stolichny [a sausageless alternative].
I’d be remiss not to mention that the store Roman mentioned has indeed closed its physical location, but its website is still taking orders.
From: Pyotr
To: Ekaterina in the U.K. and Ivan in Germany
I’m missing Russian cuisine and home-cooked food. Eating at [the Russian fast food restaurant] Teremok would feel like a luxury.
The blini at Teremok were wonderful!
From: Angelina
To: Slava, who misses the Shukhov Tower on Shabolovka Street
In Moscow, I lived near the Shabolovka metro station and I had a view of the Shukhov broadcasting tower. I miss going out and looking at it from my balcony while drinking coffee in the morning.
I wish everyone who left their home, whether by choice or not, the strength to keep moving forward. The country you lived in will always be with you. And I wish peace for all of us. Also, may we overcome boundaries and turn all our emotions into creation and good.
From: Khloya
To: Ilya, who lives in France and misses the elevators in the Moscow metro
I miss how the scent of the Moscow metro hits you when you go through its heavy doors in the winter; I miss the metal grooves along the escalator, where you can drop a coin or a rolled up ticket; and I miss the bored eyes of the metro worker in the booth at the bottom.
The sound of the Moscow metro:
From: Maria
To: Lera, who misses the sky over Moscow
I miss the clouds over the horizon in Central Russia — full, varied, moving, and multilayered.
My wish for all of us, regardless of what country you live in, is love and peace. After several emigrations and many moves, I definitely understand that we all need some fresh air sometimes. You need to feel that your place really exists, that you matter there, and that people remember you. That these aren’t just images in your subconscious, but a life that you’re a part of.
Postcards from St. Petersburg
From: Oleg
To: Everyone abroad who dreams of glimpsing the frozen Neva River
I miss the sound of the Neva and the Gulf of Finland. The city where I live now has a narrow mountain river, but that’s completely different.
I miss the sound and the smell of the Neva crashing against the granite. When I lived in St. Petersburg, I loved walking along the embankment — just taking deep breaths and sorting my thoughts.
From: Natasha
To: Yekaterina, who currently lives in the U.K. and also misses the Neva embankment
I really miss the Neva embankment. I loved to sit next to the sphinxes on Vasilyevsky Island and look at the water and at St. Isaac’s Cathedral. It’s so peaceful, it just feels like home.
From: Lyubov
To: Alexander, who currently lives in Turkey and misses Victory Park
I would sometimes get off the metro, see the library and the tower with the spire, and then walk home through the park. I miss my building on Basseinaya 53 and the surrounding area — Lensoveta Street and Chesme Church.
Always remember that home is where we are. That it’s the people who live in a home that create comfort, not the house itself. I wish for you to hold onto your warmest and best moments and memories — and to never forget that they’re always with you. Try to take notice of something new and beautiful every day. Always believe in goodness and miracles. Share kindness and warmth — it will make the world better, and there will be more and more miracles in the world.
From: Anna
To: Irina and Ekaterina from Germany and an anonymous reader from Armenia who miss a specific bookstore
I want to respond to the wishes of Irina from Germany, an anonymous reader from Armenia, and Ekaterina from Germany. I visited Podpisnie Izdaniya [bookstore] on Liteyniy Avenue and made a special New Year’s photo series there!
I miss the cafe and the Russian-language books. How I’d love to go to Podpisnie Izdaniya and flip through the books! Maybe you can go flip through a few pages for me?
I miss bookstores. Please, send a video from Podpisnie Izdaniya on Liteyniy Avenue. I’d love to see you shuffle through some pages, show how the books are set up, the shelves, the tables.
From: Ivan
To: All fans of St. Petersburg bathhouses
I really miss the Lantern Baths and taking walks with my dog on the city’s Petrograd side.
I miss St. Petersburg’s public bathhouses — especially the Baltic Baths. On the fourth story, there’s a premium area with a pool, Russian and Turkish bathhouses, a sauna, a cold plunge, and an Aztec sauna. […] Bathhouses of that level in Tbilisi are crazy expensive and meant for tourists, so they’re pretty soulless and not very peaceful.
From: Andrey
To: Nikita, who missed his favorite bar, and Alexey, who missed St. Petersburg shawarma
I’m curious what Nekrasova Street and the bar Redrum look like on Saturdays.
I miss my favorite St. Petersburg shawarma (Israeli shawarma is absolute trash).
From: Valeria
To: Anna, who lives in Vietnam and misses the courtyard outside her home
I had just finished renovating my apartment. I moved back in, and then the war started, so I had to leave. I had a record player, and on New Year’s Eve, I would listen to a record while snow fell outside.
This video is for Anna from Vietnam, who wanted to see her courtyard at 51 Rimsky-Korsakov Street. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the window with the stained glass. Anna, I wish for you to someday return to your courtyard, your apartment, and run “over February snow, feet not touching the ground, […] by a barely discernible track to the warmth of a lodging” (from the poem “When I Return” by Alexander Galich).
Matvei sent photos for Valeria as well
From: Valeria
To: Yelena, who currently lives in Turkey and misses the Semimostye and the Kryukov Canal embankment
I miss the Kryukov Canal embankment and the Semimostye. And most of all, I miss the pre-New Year atmosphere of St. Petersburg. It’s something you can’t buy for any amount of money, and I can’t bring it to my new country.
I wish for you to find yourself, even for a moment, on Sadovaya Street, on one of the bridges, immersed in the pre-New Year atmosphere of St. Petersburg. “Before me the river sprawled under the coal smoke / behind the tram thundered on the bridge unharmed” (from the poem “From the Outskirts to the Center” by Joseph Brodsky).
From: Yevgeny and Nadezhda
To: Everyone who misses the shore of the Gulf of Finland
Six years into emigration, what I return to in my thoughts most often are the views along the Primorskoye Highway, which runs from St. Petersburg along the bay — through Solnechnoye, Repino, Komarovo, and Zelenogorsk. The road winds around, and sometimes you catch glimpses of the bay through the tall pines. It’s beautiful in any season, and for some reason, I associate these views with St. Petersburg more than anything else.
When I was small, we often drove along that road to the dacha in the summer. And when I grew up and started driving myself, I would take the Primorsky Highway just to admire the scenery. Now, I often close my eyes and see the pines and the bay. It brings a sense of peace, but also sadness. It feels like I’ll never again be able to drive down that road without a care in the world.
From: Alexey
To: Anna, who lives in Argentina and misses the snow in St. Petersburg
I miss the snow so much. This is my third New Year with hot weather and no snow. For some, it’s bliss; for me, it’s a punishment. I miss the ice rinks and New Year’s markets, and the mulled wine on New Holland Island.
To all St. Petersburg residents, including past and future ones, I present: the first snow. And just now, at 12:00 p.m., the cannons fired at the Peter and Paul Fortress. Enjoy!
Postcards from other cities in Russia
From: Ivan
To: Iosef, who lives in Israel and misses Novozavidovo, a village in the Moscow region
I remember Grandma waking up early in the morning, and by the time I was up, she’d have a whole basin of blueberry pies ready. Grandpa would tell these endless, fantastical stories. And watching my uncle, always searching for a drink, I learned to see that inside every unsightly person, there’s a human being.
I wish someone could go to the Zavidovo train station, take a camera, and walk with it to the house at the edge of the village. And if there’s no time or resources for that, even a simple photo of the nameplate on our old train station would be enough.
Galina also snapped a picture of the station
Happy New Year! I hope all your wishes come true!
From: An anonymous reader in Saratov
To: Anastasia, who lives in Georgia and misses her hometown
I miss my beloved Volga, sitting with my grandmother, and celebrating holidays with friends.
I want to fulfill Anastasia’s wish — and show her Saratov and the Volga. I hope you’re able to build a better life in your new location.
From: Alexey
To: Darya, who lives in Spain and misses Ural forests
I miss the scent of damp grass on a frosty morning, the smell of earth in the forest after rain. I also miss the Ural forests in every season. And the starry sky in the city, veiled in the haze from factory chimneys.
Here’s the Southern Ural forest for Darya, who left Chelyabinsk for Spain, and for everyone who misses our forests.
From: Anna
To: Ilya, who now lives in Georgia and misses the Iset River embankment in Yekaterinburg
I miss walks along the Iset River embankment from the side of the Cosmos [theater], in Kharitonovsky Park, along Sovetskaya Street. I also often think about Osnovinsky Park and the arboretum.
From: An anonymous reader in Yekaterinburg
To: Natalia, who lives in the U.S. and misses the sounds of Yekaterinburg
Listen to the Yekaterinburg train station
From: Yegor
To: Nastya, who currently lives in Georgia and misses the Angara River
I used to love looking out from the huge window of my old building, watching how, on frosty mornings, the lights stretched across the Akademichesky Bridge like an uneven red shimmering ribbon, while steam rose from the river, and a tiny corner of the Polytechnic [University] could be seen in the distance. I’d really like a morning photo of this incredible coziness.
From: An anonymous reader
To: Viktor, who currently lives in Czechia and wanted to see Lake Baikal
I miss trips to Baikal, smoked omul, and the group skating lessons at the Lokomotiv Stadium [in Irkutsk], where I used to go every weekend. I miss the Angara resort, where I spent my childhood and adolescence.
From: Varvara
To: Kira, who wanted to see Nagorny Park in Vladivostok
I miss Vladivostok — the city where I spent my childhood. I’m really sad that I never got to see Nagorny Park.
From: Daniil
To: Everyone who misses the snow in Vladivostok
Postcards, photos, videos, and recordings by Meduza’s readers
Abridged translation by Sam Breazeale
Meduza survived 2024 thanks to its readers!
Let’s stick together for 2025.
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