Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics (Memorial'nyi Muzei Kosmonavtiki)
Prospekt Mira, 111
About
Housed beneath a giant aluminum monument of a rocket soaring into space, this museum is a tribute to the minds and might that put the Soviet Union head-to-head with the United States in the Space Race. This is the team that sent the first man and woman into space, among the Soviet space machine's other accomplishments. The museum itself could use some innovation, and occasionally feels more nostalgic for former grandeur than celebratory of progress, but its overall message and appeal are still universal. Exhibits include spacesuits, moon rocks, pieces of rockets and satellites, and film of early space flights. Though most items are labeled in Russian only, a good English-language audioguide is now available and worth the additional fee. Although space travel and a career as an astronaut have lost their appeal for many children, travel-obsessed kids and sci-fi fans will have a great time here. Allow an hour, plus travel time to get here since it's far from the center (but right on top of a metro station). Conquering the Cosmos -- The big, bad Soviet Union, America's rival in the race to space and nuclear superiority, was as surprised at its superpower status as the outside world. An unwieldy mass of illiterate peasants before Lenin came along, Russia took just a few decades to reach the scientific heights needed to conquer the cosmos. The Soviet government poured funding and pressure on its rocket scientists, who stunned the world when they beat the Americans in sending the first satellite into space in 1957. Sputnik, the name of the vessel and the Russian word for "satellite," instantly entered the international vocabulary. A month later a Soviet mutt named Laika orbited the earth. She was merely setting the stage, however, for the Soviets' next breakthrough: Yuri Gagarin's first manned flight in April 1961 -- a month before U.S. astronaut Alan Shepard made the journey. Gagarin came to represent Russia's victory over its own backward and repressive past, with a literal and figurative blast into the future. The anniversary of his flight, April 12, is informally celebrated as a national holiday, and his smiling image is one of the few Soviet-era faces that evokes universal pride. Just 2 years later, textile worker-turned-cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkhova became the first woman in space, a full 20 years before the United States sent Sally Ride into orbit in 1983. The Soviet space program suffered plenty of defeats, including the deaths of four cosmonauts in accidents on the Soyuz-1 in 1967 and the Soyuz-11 in 1971, but propagandists largely concealed them from the public. Pilots from dozens of countries flew to space on Soviet rockets, and it wasn't until the late 1980s that the bankruptcy of the Soviet Union started crippling its once-mighty space machine. Mir space station became a remarkable symbol and victim of Russia's post-Soviet plight. Launched in 1986, just weeks after the U.S. shuttle Challenger exploded in tragedy, the Mir orbiting lab was built to last 3 or 4 years. But when the country that launched it crumbled in 1991, the Mir's crew was told to stay aloft for another 6 months while the government found money to bring them home. The station and Russia's space program scraped by, helped out by a once-unthinkable partnership with NASA, which had no space station of its own. After a string of accidents in the late 1990s, the Mir was finally sent to a choreographed demise in the Pacific Ocean in 2000. Russia's space program has since dedicated most of its energies to the International Space Station -- and to sending the world's first "space tourists" into orbit. The once-secretive compounds at Star City and Korolev outside Moscow now occasionally open their doors for well-paying tourists, who can test their stamina on centrifugal machines even if they don't plan any space journeys. For a cheaper and less stomach-churning way to learn more about the Russian space program, visit the Museum of Cosmonautics (reviewed above) o
