Late August is a perilous time. It still feels like summer, but mornings already smell of September, evenings grow colder, and the body begins to suspect that the next truly decent weekend won’t arrive until May. So, the plan was simple: before summer officially shuts down, we needed to go somewhere. Preferably somewhere nearby, beautiful, and without the necessity of spending hours pretending to be a long-haul trucker. The choice fell upon Suzdal, and for transportation, I intentionally selected a large, comfortable Hongqi H5 sedan.

The H5 is almost perfect for this trip. It’s a five-meter sedan—4987 mm long with a wheelbase of 2920 mm. Under the hood is a 2.0-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine producing 218 horsepower, a classic eight-speed automatic transmission, and front-wheel drive. It accelerates to 60 mph in 7.8 seconds, with a top speed of 230 km/h. Overall, it’s neither a sports car nor an SUV, but precisely a vehicle built for a long road trip on paved roads.

The drive from Moscow to Suzdal is approximately 230 kilometers. Barring major traffic jams, the navigator estimates about three and a half hours, but in reality, you should plan for four. The classic route follows the M-7 through Balashikha and Vladimir. Leaving Moscow involves some traffic congestion, but once you get past that, the landscape begins to unfold: fewer interchanges, more sky, the forest encroaching on the road, and the names Pokrov, Petushki, and Lakinsk make you realize, «We’ve really traveled somewhere.»

Along the way, the main advantage of the H5 became clear. It doesn’t require your attention every second. The steering wheel feels stable, the car holds a straight line well, and the automatic transmission shifts almost imperceptibly. At 100–120 km/h, you can hold a conversation in a low voice, listen to music, and not feel like the road is slowly draining your energy. The suspension is firmer than you might expect from a large Chinese business sedan, yet it handles large waves and bumps gracefully. On poor asphalt, the wheels might convey the road’s profile with excessive detail, but at least you don’t experience the rocking motion of a large barge.

The 218 horsepower was exactly what was needed here. No drama: I pressed the gas—the eight-speed automatic shifted a few gears, the turbo engine woke up, and the truck disappeared in the rearview mirror. The acceleration was confident, mature, without theatrical special effects. I even liked that the H5 doesn’t try to prove its sportiness to everyone around it. Its mood is different: «we’ll get there quickly, but why stress?» For the drive to Suzdal, this philosophy is a must-have.

After Vladimir, the feeling of a genuine trip through Central Russia emerges. The fields are no longer bright green, but slightly scorched, beneath a heavy August sky; villages are interspersed with forests. Suddenly, it becomes clear why traveling here in a sedan is more pleasant than in another massive SUV. You sit lower, the road feels more confident—the car practically glides over the asphalt. The H5 seems designed for this landscape: a long hood, a quiet cabin, high-quality music—you absolutely don’t want the journey to end.

Then comes Suzdal—and the pace naturally slows down. It’s pointless to try and cram seven landmarks into two hours here. Time flows differently in the city. I drove to the Suzdal Kremlin, parked, and proceeded on foot. The Kremlin is situated near Kamenka; around it, there is grass, wooden houses, white walls, and blue domes. After Moscow, for the first twenty minutes, a strange feeling arises: why is it so quiet here, and where have all the bustling people gone?

From the Kremlin, you can walk to the Museum of Wooden Architecture. Here, Suzdal truly steps into a time machine. The old wooden churches, izbas, and utility buildings—and these are not mere decorations designed to evoke ancient Russia, but genuine monuments collected here from various locations across the Vladimir Oblast. Walking among them, you realize the familiar image of Russia from a textbook suddenly dissolves. Suzdal is fascinating precisely because of this: history here is not displayed behind glass; you literally walk through it.

I then returned to the car and drove toward the Spaso-Evfimiev Monastery. On the narrow streets of Suzdal, the almost five-meter-long H5 sometimes feels a bit oversized—as if I were on a business trip. The monastery itself is monumental, powerful, and carries a completely different mood. The view of the old walls and the surrounding area is particularly beautiful. And if you manage to get into the bell tower, where tours lead, the trip gains its own soundtrack.

Then I walked into the Marketplace, the arcade of the Gostiny Dvor. There was coffee (or medovukha for those who definitely weren’t going anywhere that day), cucumber souvenirs, and a leisurely stroll along the Kamenka. The market stalls date back to the early 19th century and still look remarkably organic—there’s no feeling of an old-fashioned tourist mall. As evening approached, the city became even more beautiful: the sun was lower, the domes began to gleam, and the tour groups gradually dispersed.

I returned with that pleasant feeling—the kind where you haven’t accomplished anything heroic in a day, but your mind feels completely refreshed. On the way home, I discovered another quality of the Hongqi. After several hours of walking, you settle into the plush seat, close the heavy door, turn on the climate control—and the outside world instantly stops bothering you. If the H5 seemed like just another spacious sedan in the morning, by evening you begin to understand why a business class even exists: it’s less about impressing you and more about conserving your energy.

Truth is, the pleasure isn’t inexpensive. The official HONGQI H5 currently starts at 4.28 million rubles, and the Black Edition starts at 4.63 million. For that kind of money, you don’t just want a car—you want the feeling that the next 200 kilometers won’t exhaust you. And this is where the H5 succeeds. I arrived in Suzdal without feeling tired. And on the way back—satisfied, too. Perhaps that is the best outcome for a car you choose not for racing, but for the journey itself.