The Route Through Kozlovka and Nearby Heritage Scenes
On a recent short journey toward the border where Kostroma meets Ivanovskaya and Kadiya sits, the travelers followed the Vyatka corridor, now a modern highway with smooth asphalt, clear signage, and a 90 km/h limit. It is a quiet, active road—goods carriers mingle with regular cars, forests and wetlands frame the lanes, and careful map-reading reveals little-known detours and stories along the way.
In Kozlovka, a stop revealed more than a friendly welcome. A goat appeared beside a barn, and beyond a long, light-colored one-story building with insect screens stood a psycho-neurological boarding school for boys. The campus is well-kept, with flowers and clean roads. walkers move through the gardens, and the atmosphere is orderly rather than dull. The stop wasn’t driven by the pupils, though; curiosity about the village’s past drew attention to a former estate once home to the Plautin family from the 18th century. The stone mansion that once stood there no longer exists, having given way to a modern institution that occupies the same property. The Plautins, Kostroma nobles, included Mikhail Gavrilovich, a navigator who joined the northern expedition of Bering in 1773 and, with Laptev, helped chart the Arctic Ocean. He died of scurvy while crossing from Kamchatka toward America on the return leg of the voyage, a note that lingers in local memory.
Another connection ties to Anna Platonovna, who married into the Plautins and linked Kozlovka to poet Nikolai Ogarev through the Vicarage era of the Herzen family. In 1880, control of the estate passed to Nikolai Alekseevich Podsosov, a successful distiller and brewer. The estate’s historical footprint rests largely on a portrait by Boris Kustodiev, who painted the manufacturer on the terrace of the summer house in Kozlovka; the work now resides in the Russian Museum. Podsosov founded a vinegar factory by the river to honor local memory; after Soviet times, the factory site housed a collective farm office, later burning and vanishing from sight. The story remains more vivid in the memory of residents than in the present structure of the town.
Another tangible link to the past lies in the cemetery at Dmitrievskaya Church, built in 1818. Alexander Yuryevich Pushkin, a cousin of the poet’s mother, Nadezhda Osipovna Gannibal, is connected to the grounds in which his kin lay and where legends grew, as the family’s ties threaded through local life. A memoir by Pushkin’s uncle notes a moment when the poet’s name honored a family lineage during a distant campaign; those recollections remind visitors of the threads weaving through Russian history. Alexander Yuryevich, founder of the Kostroma branch of the Pushkins, fathered three children who carried forward a sense of duty to the homeland. One granddaughter, Evgenia Lvovna Pushkina, born in 1851, trained as a gynecologist and served in St. Petersburg’s maternity hospital. In the summers, she supported the people of Kozlovka by building zemstvo schools and funding local education, and after the revolution, her legacy was preserved by the RSFSR’s All-Russian Central Executive Committee; she died in 1930 and rests alongside her family in the same cemetery where a sense of continuity endures, now a boarding school building’s quiet anchor. The old estate gave way to a boarding facility for the mentally ill, and a fire in 1971 shifted the center of gravity back toward Kozlovka. Today, little remains of the earlier innovations, yet the echoes persist.
With cemeteries and churches diminished by time, local historians placed a memorial stone within a church building rebuilt in 2003. It marks a lineage that includes Alexander Yuryevich Pushkin and his descendants, a reminder of intertwined destinies. The staff at the boarding school assisted in locating the stone, a moment of shared history. Nearby, a rabbit kennel and a simple, utilitarian toilet backstage provide a stark contrast to the storied past, illustrating the everyday life that persists in these places.
Beyond Kozlovka, the landscape holds markers of former estates and markings on old maps. The village of Klevantsovo, once a sizable estate and now a notable demographic hold, sits along the highway where ruins of older farms meet the remains of a bus stop and a store. The Vysokovo estate sits on the Medoza River’s high bank. This property once belonged to the father of a noble line connected to Catherine the Great and later passed among Greek sisters who preserved a small but vibrant cultural sphere. The Anatolyevsky School, founded in 1881 by the Greek sisters in memory of their younger brother, remains a vestige of that era, though rebuilt over time. The Greek sisters themselves educated many, with staff who spoke foreign languages and cultivated the arts, leaving a subtle imprint on regional life.
The estate era’s grandeur is remembered in the park’s glimpses—tall lindens and overgrown acacias hint at a once-majestic landscape. Kustodiev’s ties to these lands are part of a broader narrative: the artist’s early visits to Vysokovo and nearby estates eventually led him to create a Russian-style estate called Terem. The narrative continues with a move of Kustodiev’s home to another village, a lengthy process described in local lore. The mid-20th century saw the home dismantled and relocated, a tale of change that mirrors the shifts sweeping the region. Still, the memory endures through the Anatolyevskaya school and the stories carried by its students and residents.
In Klevantsovo, the Anatolyevskaya school leaves a palpable impression with a clean, well-kept yard, sporting fields, vegetable gardens, and even a striking beet flower. A substantial pile of birch wood awaits winter, a reminder that gas services have yet to arrive in full. The emphasis on practicality over spectacle stands out—a place where safety and preparedness matter most.
Resuming the journey to the Vyatka road, the travelers pressed on toward Kadye, a town whose planning still bears the imprint of Catherine’s era. Once a county seat and salt-production hub, Kadye endured a devastating forest fire in 1841 that erased much of its vitality. Tax exemptions briefly saved the inhabitants, yet the town devolved into a quiet village. A local museum speaks to its natural history, military glory, and regional heritage, though a Sunday visit found the museum closed. The threefold exhibits offer a window into the town’s layered identity, even as modern life reshapes its character.
From Kadye the route veered toward Nemda River, the intended destination and the region’s lifeblood for many who seek recreation, fishing, or a simple escape. Tourism here centers on the river’s majesty, attracting visitors from Kostroma, Nizhny, and Kineshma. A contemporary campsite along Nemda is designed for comfort, with geese on a pond, boats at the pier, and a welcoming beach and restaurant. The fall season draws a different crowd, and reviews carry a tone of warmth about the staff and the laid-back ambiance. Nearby, a former wellness venture offered vegan cuisine, yoga, and music, but that venture closed and evolved into a family hotel under new ownership. The newer housing along the shore and the presence of clean-lined dog breeds hint at a nuanced mix of old and new in the area.
In hindsight, the region’s density—once filled with zemstvo life—gives way to a quieter present, where backyards give way to nature and tourism. Russian literature finds its resonance in these landscapes, where estates once anchored daily life and collective farms embodied a distinct era. As the peasant economy shifted, the farms dissolved, leaving behind a memory of a community bound by fishing, seasonal work, and small-town dynamics. While tourism offers a chance for revival, it faces weather, solitude, and the challenge of scaling. The reflections touch on works such as Eve, Fathers and Sons, Noble Home, and Notes of a Hunter, which echo the region’s enduring tension between memory and change.
Ultimately, the journey hints at possibilities rather than guarantees. The area may harbor hidden stories and future potential, but its charm lies as much in the present moment as in the echoes of the past. The speaker closes with a nod to a familiar line—if one travels to Petersburg, tell the old nobles there that a certain Pyotr Bobchinsky lives in the city. In this vast country, the Kady district remains a place of quiet significance, with the potential for more to come.
This account reflects a personal perspective and may not align with every editor’s stance, yet it captures a regional portrait that lingers in memory long after the trip ends.