Novovoronezh Nuclear Power Plant

Listen for a moment. Beneath the wind off the steppe there is a low, steady hum, almost too faint to name. Pale plumes of vapour rise from the giant cooling towers and drift slowly over the trees. The air smells of pine, river water and warm earth. Nothing here moves quickly, yet you are standing beside one of the busiest workplaces in southern Russia. This is the Novovoronezh Nuclear Power Plant, and the town around you exists because of it.

The plant sits on the left bank of the Don River, south of the city of Voronezh. The Don is one of the great rivers of European Russia. It winds slowly through black-earth farmland toward the Sea of Azov. Engineers chose this stretch for practical reasons. The river gave them a steady supply of water for cooling. The open country gave them space. And the region needed electricity for its farms, factories and growing cities.

Here is the first thing most visitors do not realise. This plant is a birthplace. The first reactor here started up in 1964, and it was the first of a Soviet design called the VVER. The letters stand for a Russian phrase meaning water-water power reactor. In simple terms, ordinary water both cools the reactor core and slows down the particles inside it. Engineers in other countries call this type a pressurised water reactor.

That first unit was modest by today's standards. It was, in many ways, a working experiment. Engineers learned how the design behaved over years of real operation. They found what worked and what needed to change. Every lesson went into the next reactor. So when you look at this site, you are looking at a long engineering notebook. It is written in concrete and steel, one reactor after another.

The second unit followed at the end of the 1960s, larger than the first. Then, in the early 1970s, came the third and fourth units. These used a model known as the VVER-440. That name may mean little to you, but it travelled very far. Versions of this reactor were later built across the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, and as far away as Finland. Novovoronezh served as the reference site — the place where the design was first proven.

In 1980 the fifth unit came online. It used a much bigger design, the VVER-1000, which went on to become the workhorse of Soviet and Russian nuclear power. Once again, this riverbank was the testing ground. Think about that for a moment. A quiet town in the Voronezh region shaped the power plants of many countries. Few places of this size have had so much influence on how the modern world makes electricity.

Now turn your attention to the newest part of the site, often called Novovoronezh II. Here stand two reactors of the VVER-1200 type. The sixth unit was connected to the grid in 2016. It is widely described as the first reactor of its generation to enter commercial operation anywhere in the world. Engineers call this generation three plus. The label refers to added passive safety systems, which can cool the reactor without power or human action.

This brings the second surprise. The newest reactors here use the same basic idea as the very first one. Water still cools the core. Water still carries the heat away. The difference is in everything around that idea — stronger containment, more backup systems and decades of experience. The new units also have tall, curved cooling towers. On a still day their vapour rises in white columns, and you can see them from far across the flat land.

The oldest reactors have now reached the end of their working lives. The first two units were shut down long ago, and the third has also been retired. Taking a reactor out of service is slow, careful work. It can take many years. So the site holds every stage of a nuclear plant's life at once — operation, retirement and dismantling. In one view you can see where the story began and where it continues today.

Now look around at the town itself. Novovoronezh grew up as a settlement for the people who built and ran the plant. Its streets were planned in the Soviet manner, with wide avenues, apartment blocks and a great deal of green space. Many families here have worked at the plant for two or three generations. For residents, the cooling towers are simply part of the skyline, as ordinary as a church spire in another town.

It is worth being honest about what you can and cannot do here. This is a working nuclear facility, so the inner site is closed to casual visitors. Security is strict, and you should respect the fences and signs. Some nuclear towns run information centres that explain the technology to the public. If you hope to see more than the outside view, ask locally whether any visits or exhibitions are open. Arrange this well in advance, and bring your identity documents.

From the outside, the best experience is the slow one. Walk toward the river if you can. Watch how the light changes on the cooling towers during the day. In the morning they look soft and grey. By late afternoon the vapour can glow almost gold against the sky. In winter, the plumes stand out sharply above the snow. The scale is hard to judge from a distance, and the towers often look closer than they really are.

Before you leave, stand still once more and listen. The hum is still there, beneath the birds and the wind. Somewhere behind those walls, water is turning into steam. Steam is turning turbines. And across the region, lights are switching on in kitchens and classrooms. Most people who use that power will never think about this riverbank. But now you have seen it. As you walk away, look back once at the white plumes rising over the Don.