chasing abramovich

The concept of Russian luxury tourists really tickles my father. Having spent much of the 90s and noughties in Russia, and witnessed the emergence of the oligarchs when I was in my 20s, it surprises me less. By my fathers world is profoundly a Soviet one, formed and stuck in an area when the few Russia tourists you saw abroad were party officials or defectors. Even now, 20 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, he still has difficulty accepting how things have changed. In the early 1990s, as we would badly dressed Russian tourists in places like Helsinki with their dated clothes, shoddy make up and dodgy hair colours, my dad would marvel that such things had become possible, that people were able to travel all of a sudden to “Western” Europe. But at least he could imagine that degree of change. The new kind of Russian traveler, however, he cannot comprehend, even though we keep coming across his long and well heeled shadow here in the Caribbean. As noted above, Richard Branson’s private Necker Island, where rooms start at $54,000 per night has a bilingual website- in English and Russian. that gives some clue as to the Russian presence here. But unlike in other places, like Thailand or Bali where drunk Russians are audible and visible everywhere, here they mysterious hidden, spoken about by locals in hushed terms. They are not the new found wealthy affording there recently possible excursion for some winter sun on a tropical beach- these ones here are the grotesquely over the top natural resource wealthy super elite. Their traces are everywhere, but they are rarely seen. We sail past Necker island, but see next to nothing other than lush vegetation and rooftops. In St Barths, my uncle and I go for a drive, and we pass a brand new football pitch so beautiful it is breath taking and my uncle pulls over so we can get out and have a look. Of course St Barths is rich and can afford all sorts of things, but it also has a population of only 8,000-hardly the numbers to support such a structure. We walk over and it is totally open to the public, but it is unlike any normal pitch. It is maintained like none I have seen, and every aspect reflects the tremendous attention to detail and care that obviously went into building it. my uncle investigates, striking up conversation with one of the numerous care takers, who tells us in reverent tones that the pitch had been built, for $1,300,000 no less, by Roman Abromovich as a gift to the island’s youth. Of course Abamovich has a home on the island (a massive one, taking up a chunk of a hill) where he spends some months of every year. The locals speak of him respectfully, more so than they do of some of their “native” ie francophone celebrities like Johnny Halliday and Laeticia. On another island I see a yacht like none I had ever seen before (and I have seen plenty!). it is both slightly ugly in a vaguely militaristic way, and stunningly beautiful at the same time. I set my telelense zoom to 300 to capture the ship’s details, send them to people who would know and find out some information. The ship is considered to be one of the worlds first “super yachts” and was designed by Norman Foster. I get sent a few images of the interior and it is nothing like I have ever seen on a ship before. I am later told it was being rented out by “a Russian billionaire.” Abramovich? Maybe not. He owns his own, and he is not Russia’s only billionaire by any stretch. News of Russian activity reaches me again in St Lucia where rumours of wealthy Russians arriving on yachts and paying ridiculous sums for guided tours through the rainforest surface, and on Barbados, where cab drivers tell of extravagant parties at the exclusive clubs and resorts. One cab driver proudly proclaims that Abramovich pays them a visit every year, just like Prince Harry. Such, it seems, is the life of Russia’s new aristocracy. My Soviet father shakes his head in disbelief at ever tale. “How did this happen? Where did they all come from?” he ponders as his world view is turned upside down. I am sure he is not the only one asking these questions.