Finally, Crimea. Everything about it what the old gawk Konst managed not
to forget during the four months passed since he returned from the
summer vacation (Note for the English version: more than half a year
passed then before I finished this translation).
The peninsula amazed me. I don't know if it would be topical to describe
my one-week trip there, but judging from the fact that still there are
people who never were there, just like me half a year ago, I conclude
someone might be curious to read such a text. So, half a year ago I was
a completely ignorant one who couldn't even imagine what beauty can be
inside borders of his own country. The travel turned out a great
discovery to me. So take my advice: if you haven't been to Crimea yet,
go there. Even if you're currently living somewhere in West Europe,
America or Antarctica, postpone your snobbish vacation in Ibiza,
Maldives or Florida, and go to Crimea in the summer. Because Crimea is
Actually it happened by chance. Initially I was planning to spend the
two weeks of my summer vacation in Kharkov. However, my school-mate,
Mishka, convinced me that it wouldn't be bad to spend a part of the
vacation in Crimea at the sea. After some short preparations we got into
his "Ford Escort" and left Kharkov in the night. Inside the car there
were four people - Mishka, his cousin with his girlfriend and myself.
Syringes with oil
The rest of the night starting from 2am and the morning it was ok. The
way was just as it usually is. Dniepropetrovsk, Zaporozh'e areas..
Several times we made stops to have a snack and some coffee. I played a
little with my camera, so I managed to take several interesting shots.
Like the gloomy one you can see below. Just to make it clear, so that
readers don't think something wrong, syringes on Ukranian roads are
quite a rare thing. This one was the first I saw. But taking into
account my passion for various black stuff, I decided to wait for the
next car to pass and made such a picture.
Adventures began as soon as we noticed that oil is flowing out
mysteriously from Mishka's "Ford". When it was completely over we were
near the entrance to the peninsula. In front of us, far away from the
car there was an indicator with the name of the locality called "Novyi
mir" (New world). So not reaching it we stopped on the side of the road.
We left two of us on duty with the car and walked with Mishka to the New
world. The building that looked just like a gas station made us feel
optimistic. The distance to it was something about 1 km.
The station looked rather neglected. There was an inscription saying it
was only for agricultural machinery or something like that. We could
hardly find its "boss" who was mowing the grass on the backyard. He said
to us the following:
-- I don't have any oil. See that tractor doing its job? That's
because we poured the oil off the combine. Sorry, kids.
The same guy suggested us to ask on the opposite side, behind a brick
wall with a plate saying "Agricultural machinery reparations station".
Hardly having any other options we went there. On the entrance we were
warmly "saluted" by dogs, and the first guy we met sent us to someone
Igor or Viktor, who lived on the station territory, in a two floors
building of gloomy appearance on the second floor. We were told he had a
car so he must have had some oil as well.
We met Igor on the stairs. Immediately we explained to him our problem
and fortunately he found an untouched can of oil. All together we went
after it to his garage that was in a building nearby. A simple guy
wanting to help us out sold us the oil for the same price he bought it
for. I like our people a lot, for they feel bad about making a profit
from troubles of the others. He could sell it to us for a double price
or so, because we would had bought it anyway, having no other options.
The oil we had just put in was still flowing out. So we passed along the
"New world" when we found out that the place we were stuck in had many
funny locality names. Right after the "World" there was a right turn
with a name of (translating Ukrainian into English) "Poor man's way".
For obvious reasons we chose another way.
At the first car service we found on the way our vehicle was given a
diagnosis: the oil sensor was broken. However they didn't repair it,
because they had no such sensors at hand. So we went further looking by
sides searching for a sensor for our "Ford".
As we were approaching the peninsula entrance, the landscape started to
change. First there were some lakes, and a lot of people along the road,
they were selling cans with something of bright-orange color. Must
admit, I thought it was some jam or berries. Of course it was a product
of poaching -- caviar. Out of couriosity, we took one can, for it was
also cheap. Must say, the can content was rather tasteless. Maybe it had
not enough salt, or maybe the caviar wasn't real. Sometimes there were
people holding big sturgeons hanging down to the ground. That was an
interesting place indeed.
As far as I know we have only one road heading to Crimea. So most likely
that is the reason for having a checkpoint that takes the so-called
"resort fee". This means that every car was charged for 5 hrivnas (a bit
less than $1). It's not a big sum at all, but taking in account the
amount of tourists, the profit can be good.
During whole the way to Crimea we saw not only Ukrainian cars. There
were many Russian number plates, Belorussian ones were a bit less. I
even saw several "Jeeps" from Chisinau. The majority of the cars we saw
during the way from Kharkov were there, on the entrance to the
Landscapes I saw right after the checkpoint didn't impress me much. It
looked like we got into a great hold years ago called "all-USSR resort"
that is now neglected totally. Around there was rather unfriendly steppe
with faded and withered vegetation. The same feeling didn't leave me in
the first town we saw on the way, Dzhankoi.
The Town of Junk'oi, Where They Didn't Like to Work
I definitely didn't like Dzhankoi. Almost no verdure, same living blocks
made of the local material, some sort of shell rock, and dust round
dancing and making up small tornados everywhere. The fact there were a
plenty of gas stations and car services inspired a hope that here we'd
finally be able to get our transport repaired. There was even a sort
where Mishka managed to buy a sensor. So with the newly bought detail,
we went to see the local car services.
At the first service they refused, appealing to the fact they had a lot
of work to do. It was just the same at the second and the third ones.
After the fifth refusal I had serious doubts if those people need money
at all. Most of all it bothers me when someone refuses to do some work
without even estimating the effort and asking how much the client is
going to pay for it. So the conversations were like this:
-- Hello, we've got our car..
-- Nope, most likely nope.. Lotta work.. Nope, I won't do it.
I was already curious myself, so I went to talk to the next guy. When he
answered the same I asked if an opportunity to earn some money
interested him at all. Or maybe he just was fond of the fact that there
had already been some cars repaired at his service and because of it he
can send new clients straight to hell. I also explained our problem
wasn't difficult to solve, and any mechanic could solve it in minutes.
We even had a new sensor, so it just needed to be changed. The guy was
definitely touched by the words of the desire to earn, so he started
explaining, like he has a lot of work indeed, but there was another
service where they would definitely help us.
The guy at the place we were sent to was really bright. Probably too
bright for the sickly and sweaty town. At the other hand, his service
looked rather shabby. His abilities to repair cars were limited by the
lack of such a useful thing like platform. So it was just a booth and a
roof above it. He used a jack to lift cars, put a rag under him and this
way reached the car bottom. Our case didn't require more. There was only
one car before us on the queue, so we waited a little and the bright guy
healed our vehicle. When it got to payment, having in mind the job he
did wasn't difficult he said "as much as you don't grudge". Remembering
previous experiences Mishka hadn't grudged 20 hrivnas (about $4). The
mechanic seemed to be shocked a little. He insisted that we should have
taken change. Immediately I recalled the experience obtaining oil in the
middle of nowhere, and then that one, I thought that all those who work
in the automobile area in Ukraine should be canonized.
Then, without any problem that required to be solved asap, we were
heading into the depths of the peninsula. Having passed by Simferopol,
we went straight to honoured city of Russian seamen, Sevastopol.
There was a huge difference between the coast area in Crimea and the
steppes we had seen just after entering its territory. Disruption and
decay here gave way to the feeling of a big city. The landscape became
more interesting too, there were hills with roads describing them
I wouldn't like to get into details about where and how we fond
accomodation. During the week we spent in Crimea (after I left the rest
of the guys spent some more time there), we moved twice. First we were
not happy about conditions. The reason to move for the second time was
that a seaman from Balaklava, a friend of ours, let us live in his
appartment for free during some time. If you're courious about prices,
generally accomodation costs about 10-20 hrivnas per person. This price
is for a room, not for a separate appartments which are more expensive.
Now there is a list of places we visited in Sevastopol and in its
- The 3rd Beach
It was an absolutely disgusting place we went to on the 1st day. There
was a bay and a pathwalk along it. There wre various cafes, discos and
such on it. I'm not a snob, but when it comes to summer cafes I feel bad
about plastic chairs that were white a long ago, and now they are
covered with gray scratches. They just don't let you enjoy the meal and
drinks, because of their insanitary look. Like there is something white
and clean, but at the same time it's kinda dirty and ruined. The bad
thing was that on the 3rd beach there were no cafes but of such kind. It
took waiter long to bring us the meal, they replied "we don't have that"
on the majority of positions in the menu. Then I formed an opinion about
the service in Crimea. Then it got proven in other cafes as well.
Service in Crimea is Russian haphazardness multiplied by Southern
I don't know why we went there on the first day. Sure, we got to the
city only in the evening and the 3rd beach was just the closest to us
outlet to the sea. Thought it definitely wasn't the best one. During the
evening we managed to talk to some rocker girls. I regret I didn't dress
like a rocker. Among the advantages of the beach there was the fact that
its sandy part was dark in the night. So when you're on it only music
reaching from the pathwalk reminds you that you're in a busy place. It's
possible to get comfortable there with a bottle of beer or wine and to
drink it looking at the sea. Another advantage was the pierce where some
company sang various rock to guitar.
Amazing ruins of an ancient city. It smells like antiquity (please don't
get me wrong). Here and there there are basilicas: small and big temples
built in honour of various gods. They have a look of square recesses
equipped with stairs. Certainly there used to be roofs, but they weren't
preserved. Also if there were roofs it wouldn't be that easy to look
inside. Besides numerous basilicas on the reservation territory there
were remains of big buildings with fragments of walls and columns, and
also a church. They say Luzhkov, Putin and Kuchma came there when the
church was unveiled. Konst was so impressed by Khersones that he made a
great amount of shots that day. By the way, Ukrainian citizens can
admire the ruins views very easily without even going there nor buying
any postcards or photo albums. It's enough only to look at the national
currency. On the back of 1 hrivna banknote any time you find one of the
historical monument views.
The entrance fee on the reservation territory is a complete trickery. If
you come from the side where some park is, the entrance is blocked with
an ancient wall. However, there are gates and a window with an
absolutely not ancient tickets-woman. Despite of this the wall can be
walked around and there are much more other ways to get into Khersones
escaping the gates and the woman. But just like it usually happens with
novices, we paid 5 hrivnas per person.
There is a beach in the reservation, always full of people. I don't know
what attracts those people. Probably all of them are fans of acupuncture
and they like when sharp stones prick their feet, and as soon as they go
out to the shore they like the feeling of putting bare ass on stones of
the same kind.
- Beach "Fiolent"
While in Khersones I started to get rid of the first negative
impressions of Crimea, this place impressed me much indeed. I finally
realized that Crimea wasn't only bad service to which you can pay
absolutely no attention. I was amazed by the beauty of nature that
cannot be destroyed by anyones's haphazard ways. In order to get to
"Fiolent" one should make the following route. First get to the place
called "the 5th kilometer", where a big market and a junction are. I
tried to guess what this name could mean. It turned out there was the
beginning of the way towards Balaklava, and the place was situated
exactly on its 5th kilometer. So from there one should take a shuttle
and then get off on some waste ground with rare cottages and go by
indicators towards Saint George monastery. The whole way seemed so
poorly as I couldn't believe my eyes when finally there was the sea. I
just went out on the top of a mountain, at its foot downstairs was a
beach and the sea was spreaded all over the horizon. It definitely was
one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen.
"Fiolent" is also known as "800 stairs". The mountain from which one
should go down in order to get to the beach is not small at all. For
tourists' comfort some good man made stairs. No, it's not a nice
staircase going down from the top right to the beach. Instead, there are
a lot of small pieces with several stairs and pathwalks that connect
them. So you go down, right, left and down again, then to the left and
down, etc. Someone had nothing to do and they counted the stairs. The
number was exactly 800. At least that's what some Crimean girls who we
knew told us.
The beach was shingle, and not very far from the shore there was a piece
of rock sticking up from the sea. On its top a cross was mounted. It
wasn't difficult to swim to it. On the rock there were some stairs so it
was possible to climb. The whole day we were watching various plucky
guys in different positions throwing theirselves down from the rock and
I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to put a plate on it specifying how
many people broke their heads this way. The rock wasn't sheer and there
is always risk that one doesn't reach the edge where water begins. So,
we decided not to jump.
They said that several years ago "Fiolent" was a closed millitary object
and noone was allowed there. Nowdays there is a beach open for everyone,
though at some distance there was a piece of rock sticking out into the
water a little. On the rock there were inscriptions like "reservation",
"prohibited area" and "stay back". They were painted poorly with some
paint right on the rock so I thought it was a joke and went further to
see what was there. Moreover, there were several tourists staying on
that part of the beach. As soon as I passed by the rock I was hailed by
someone in marines jacket and shorts holding a bottle of beer in his
hand. He told me to return. I tried to dispute his forwardness, but it
had no result. Then I asked in which navy he served, whether it was
Ukrainian or Russian. Ukrainian -- answered he with a typical
pronunciation mistake (in English it would be as if he put accent on the
- Count's Dock (Grafskaya pristan')
The dock is a very nice place that breathes history. Must say, it's
beautiful in another way compared to the previous places. You cannot
find the wild and virgin nature of "Fiolent" here, neither you can find
the spirit of anciency like in Khersones. Crimea just continued to
astonish me with its diversity. Every time I saw something amazing that
wasn't just like the previous places. In the style of Count's dock the
old Russian Empire of XVIII-XIX can be recognized easily along with its
luxury and greatness. Actually there are a lot of architecture of that
style in the center of Sevastopol. From the arch situated in Nakhimov
square stairs go directly to the dock, a big platform of wood. The most
active place of the city also begins there. Every night there are a lot
of tourists and the life is boiling over. Our Crimean friends took us to
the disco called "Calypso" where Konst was the only one to be stopped
with a question "Where are you going? Are you sure you're 21?" (entrance
age limitation). That does it, -- I thought. I knew that I don't
actually look like an old guy, but not that young.. And I didn't have my
ID with me that night. Meantime the security guards took a look at our
whole company (there were several girls with us between 18 and 20) they
let me in. They had no questions to the rest of us.
By the way, the name of Count's dock descends to some count Voinovich
who was in command of the squadron of Sevastopol. He used to board to
his boat from the dock.
There was a long shore area that was beginning right from the dock.
Going along it, one can see such things as the lost ships monument and
at some distance from it a great monument of the Defenders of
Sevastopol. There also was a beach but I thought it wouldn't be really
nice to take sunbaths laying on bare stone plates. Where the plates end
the sea begins. For comfort of tourists, the city beach is provided with
stairs of metal, like in a swimming pool, that only amplify the feeling
of artificiality. My humble opinion is that a beach must be as natural
as possible, with sand and some verdure. So we didn't go there to swim.
Only once in the night having left "Calypso" all together we decided to
take a bath. Exactly where the city beach ends there is a piece of a
usual Crimean shore, with big stones of different forms on it. It was
rather dark there, so the girls that were too shy could undress and swim
easily not being afraid to be seen. I mean it, it was really damn dark.
During one of the evenings we had nothing to do, so we want to the park
next to the dock. Tired of the whole day of walking and moving from one
place to another, we found several karaoke places. I'm sure I wouldn't
take a challenge of singing there unless I consume quite an amount of
alcohol. However, it's really nice to hear our people performing.
Actually, seeing is much more fun that just listening to their voices. I
strongly recommend all of my readers to go and see it yourselves. You
won't be sorry. It's not just a kind of amateur singing. I assure that
karaoke in the former USSR is always a real show, and if you compare it
to "Eurovision" or "MTV Music awards" you'll see that the latter ones
are much more amateur and boring. Karaoke is always sincere and
As for the rest, Sevastopol makes a good impression. It has a lot of
verdure, quite often you can see some fir-greens. I was very glad to see
some trees of Southern type with big and fluffy flowers. There are just
the same in some parks here in Bucharest. Above some roads there are
small dust-covered flags of Ukraine and Crimea that were put there for
some reason. Honestly, I hadn't knew it before that the peninsula had
its own flag. The flag consists of three parts: the red line in the
bottom means the bloody past, the blue line on top means the cloudless
sky and the wide white area in the middle prepresents a clean sheet of
paper, the present that is being written.
Everyone knows that besides all the other stuff, Sevastopol is a base of
the ex-Soviet Black Sea fleet, which is divided nowdays between Russia
and Ukraine. In Sevastopol millitaries of the both countries maintain
their presence. Our Crimean friends told us some interesting stories
about competition between the two countries aimed to provide better
conditions for their own marines. It started when Russian government
built new barracks or made significant repairs to the old ones. Just on
the opposite side of the road there were Ukrainian barracks, that got
repaired right away. So they looked even better. As a fine gesture, the
Ukrianian fleet bosses decided to erect a statue of Shevchenko nearby.
So a delicate question appeared: how to place the statue of the famous
national writer? Because if he stood with face toward Ukrainian
barracks, his butt would had been turned to the Russians. If the poet
looked at the Russian barracks, ours would see his butt, which is also
not acceptable. Finally, a decision worthy of Solomon was made:
Shevchenko was placed in parallel with the both countries' barracks, so
that his sight is now turned into the sea.
Formally Balaklava is considered another district of Sevastopol.
However, there is a road that separates it from the city just like it
was another town. During the USSR times when Sevastopol was a closed
territory in get where one needed a permit, there was a base of the
Soviet submarine fleet. The times changed and nowdays it's a popular
place for summer vacations. Right in the center of the town there is a
bay with a dock, from which cutters towards beaches leave several times
per day. Many folks come from Sevastopol by shuttle, the beaches near
Balaklava is so nice. Their names are self-explanatory -- Gold and
Above the bay, on the 300 meters height hill a long time ago, someone
built a castle. Some time later, just like it usually happens in
history, it was successfully destroyed. Remains of the wall along with
worn through towers of ancient stones are called Chembalo. The castle
Chembalo was built by ancient Italians from the city of Genuya. There
are some other historical monuments that are located a bit lower by the
hill. Among them there are such things as the two-floor house of Lesya
Probably the most impressive man-built structure of the bay of Balaklava
is the submarine base with a reparation works inside. Outside you can
see only the entrance, a metal gateway right at the bottom of the
mountain whose slope leads directly into the sea. Once in the night we
managed to sneak into the tunnels in there. Equipped with a powerful
lantern a sea-man guy we knew took us to a walk. At the entrance there
was a trailer with a guard. There was no light in its windows, so we
knocked at the door to say that we're entering to the docks. "It's not
necessary to wake me for that" -- the old-man answered dissatisfiedly.
In a minute we were inside. A plenty of tunnels, passes and rooms. In
some of them there are railways on the floor.. Walls of concrete. It all
was built inside the mountain, above us there were another 126 meters of
rock. This staff was aimed to resist a direct hit of a 100 kilotons
powered atomic bomb. When the cold war monument was still functional,
the Ukrainian authorities didn't bother to put a soldier at the entrance
(that's not mentioning conservation of the object). That's why now you
won't find anything inside. Everything what had any small value was
taken away a while ago. This means practically not even a wire. In this photo album you can see what I
managed to shoot in that night with a flash and lantern illumination.
It's impossible to describe in words the beauty of the places we saw
near Balaklava. That's why I propose to thank Satan for the truly
goodness that the digital photography is. To the beaches mentioned above
it's possible to get with cutter, but it's also possible to go there
walking. The latter option is for those who like walking or just strong
enough. During our stay in Balaklava we tried it both ways. The look of
the mountains whose slopes go directly into the sea can just drive you
crazy. That's why, especially if you're used to see the sea surrounded
only by a plain landscape, you have to visit Crimeea. It's a
great combination. The beauty of the places made me forget the
disorganised service along with other negative impressions I got in the
The beaches theirselves are pebble. The presence of mountains makes even
the swmming more interesting. There are rocks in the water on which you
can climb, grottos under which you can dive and many other fun that you
can hardly find on a usual plain beach.
Two days before my departure for Kharkov we went out with tents to stay
a night on the nature. It was the same place, near Balaklava. I guessed
that in order to learn something about the outdoor style one should stay
at least one night outside. Day-time observing and talking to dudes from
Moscow, Kiev, Lviv, Dnepropetrovsk, Donetsk and others who came with
tents won't bring you closer to undertstanding of the life in tents.
Apart from the fact that exactly after we came it began to rain, and
there had been no rain before during a week, our outdoors stay was ok.
It was also fun to swim in the sea during the rain and a small storm.
As soon as I went to see the area in the evening I got to know some
dudes who were programming students from Donetsk. I was surprised how
weird words like C++, Linux, Internet and e-mail sounded in those
places. Everything they meant looked so artificial and not real, so I
proposed to change the conversation topic. Having walked a little more
we found several girls who lived in a neighbour tent. They appeared to
be real ladies and entertained Konst to some beer. Then we sat with one
of them under some fir-tree and I started to tell her something about
the frailty of life and the greatness of the surrounding nature. Near
their tent someone sang songs of the "Sektor Gaza" punk band. In such a
environment, with sounds of guitar, songs in Russian and a Crimeean lady
near him Konst felt he was really in Homeland and could hardly help
bursting into sobs.
By the way, the tents camps are the best place to pick someone up.
Everything I saw before at discos, bars and clubs could hardly be
compared to the friendly atmosphere from the tents camp on the nature.
It's just like Eskhar, where every stranger is a friend all the same.
Thus, there are no frills and communication obstacles. In other words,
if you managed nothing at clubs and bars, don't get upset. They're
stupid there anyway. Take a tent and go to the mountains. But if you
fail it there, be sure there is something wrong with you which needs to
be fixed. Like, try to become simpler and easier to communicate with.
Horror Movie Scenario
Now, the last bit about Balaklava. A story which everyone who's
interested can take for a modest payment to make a horror movie. Once
upon a time, in the evening, a company of 7 young people was coming back
from a beach walking on the mountains. It was getting dark and we almost
entered the town, having just reached the bottom of the mountain on
which there was ruins of an ancient castle. So, we were going along a
small street, on which there were some small houses.. Right after a
fence of metal on the roof of an old half-destroyed building a head of a
goat appeared from the dark. The girls said in fright: "Satan!". Someone
even crossed himself. That was what I call an atavism of the prehistoric
times, when everything inexplicable was imputed to some mystical side of
the world. A simple unexpected check proved that even in our times of
digital technologies, global networks, space tourism and pokemons, the
old fears are still alive. So, Konst acted like a real naturalist: he
climbed up to the fence, then on a concrete bar until he came up to the
object. The terrible ghost appeared to be.. a very real goat. It sat on
the roof to which he came by the bar that connected the top of the
building with the slope. The bar couldn't be seen from the ground.
My friends planned to spend another week in Crimeea. As usual, I was not
that lucky with the vacation. It was time to leave for Kharkov so that
to go back to Romania from there. On the railway-station in Sevastopol I
saw a big queue, so I thought it wouldn't have made sense to wait that a
lot. I'm still happy that I didn't waste much time there trying to get
tickets, because all of them appeared to be bought for a month in
advance. That's why I went to the buses, for the station was just on the
opposite site of the road. Many people think I'm a pervert, but I really
like buses. That's true you have to sit there all the time here, but if
the bus is comfortable, and there are a TV-set and a stewardess bringing
coffee, sandwiches and beer, the journey feels good enough. Myself I
like the "Autolux" company of Kiev at the most. I was also
surprised to find out recently that its owners are Syrians. The bus
driver who told me about it while we were standing at the Borispol
international airport, pointed with his hand at some Jeeps standing
nearby and said: "Our idiots, would they invest money in something? They
will only buy cars to pretend they're extremely cool". It sounded like
I liked the bus-station in Sevastopol. At the information they told me
there was a direct bus to Kharkov. Announcements stuck on the walls in
the whole building said the route was launched only a couple of days
ago. It wasn't difficult to get a ticket, though I had to wait on quite
a queue. The price was standard, about 50 hrv (~$9). Almost all the
inter-city buses I used to go with cost almost the same, with possible
difference of 10 hrv: Chernovtsy-Kiev, Kharkov-Odess and others. On my
question about comfort they answered me that the bus is new and it has
air-conditioner (which is necessary in the summer, you know). So
everything was cool. On the announcements there was a picture of some
really modern transport vehicle.
The bus looked decent indeed: smooth edges, big mirrors sticking on the
laterals like the ant's antennas. First I thought it was something
imported, like Autolux's Mitsubishis. Then I saw a logotype looking like
a Cyrillic "L" letter in a circle, and it really surprized me. The bus
was Ukrainian-made! It was built at "LAZ" -- the auto-vehicles factory
from Lviv, the model was called "Lainer-12". It had a very decent look,
from outside and from inside as well. Among accessories only tip-up
tables on the seats' backs lacked. There also were no stewardess or TV.
Besides these details, it's almost like those Mitsubishis. TV could be
setup if needed, but it looked like the company had just launched a
single bus on the route, so he didn't get his hands this yet. There were
only about 10 passagers in the whole bus. Most of them got off before we
reached the way out of the peninsula. After that there were only 3 of
us: some guy in front, myself and a guy from Belgorod next to me. With
the latter we had an interesting talk and had some beer. He told me
about the KaZantip music festival which he visited. He told it was
great, with several dancing floors, billiards, many beautiful girls and
"kama-sutra-houses". So, there is another item on the plan for the next
During the week I spent in Crimea, I didn't get a chance to see Yalta,
Swallow's nest, climb Ai-Petri, visit Aqua-Park in Simeiz, dance at
KaZantip and walk through Vorontsov's castle of Alupka. But there is
nothing wrong about it. On the contrary, there is a good reason to live
to the next summer and having armed myself with a camera, good mood and
a long vacation, leave for further studies of the peninsula. So stay