At a certain point, we were involved in a project in Ulyanovsk (formerly known as Simbirsk). This town was the birthplace of one Lenin, not insignificant in the establishment of the Bolshevik Republic. His real name: Vladimir Ulyanov (geddit?). Today Ulyanovsk is known as the “reddest” town in Russia (i.e. a hotbed of old-style functionaries and directors) - a full decade after the Soviet Union fell apart.

Welcome at the airport!

Efficient space design: entrance, waiting room and gate all rolled into one (luckily, this was summer):

Transport was provided (spot the Western Consultants!):

It must be said, however, that this vehicle may have been rugged and effective but lacked the finer details in the design of the suspension.

Upon arrival, our poor Western Consultants were confined here:

First impressions were wrong, as so often. No, this is not a prison, but the hotel (called “October”, as in Revolution).

All right, what’s to see and do? Here it is:

Really, that’s it. No more. Zilch. When some of the said consultants behaved like silly tourists and started to dance the Macarena at the bottom steps of this statue a soldier (rifle and all) rushed out and threatened everybody with instant imprisonment, which threat somehow fell flat, given the hotel they were staying at...)

All right then, how about a stroll through town?

Maybe not.

The suburbs?

Not really.

But then again, the whole reason for being here is work. Let’s go to the office then:

(This is where the poor sods had to spend 7 weeks of their lives...)

More production line assessments (introducing new suspension systems):

These represent state of the art equipment, they were told:

And despite of all that, Young Love will be unperturbed.

If you wish to escape from this concrete jungle, you’ll go in search of the idyllic countryside.

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