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24 Nov 2003 :: It's not even about the question. It happens that someone doesn't find documentation in the package or just forget about it. But let's see what one who thinks that whole the world owes him does on receiving the contrary question about the FAQ... [ more.. ]

19 Mar 2002 :: The program is growing and collecting more and more features. Now centericq has also got support for the AIM protocol. In my previous note I must had outlined it more exact that all the problems with open source implementation were related to the AIM OSCAR protocol... [ more.. ]

11 Oct 2002 :: Well, spent quite a lot of time describing the trip to Brasov.. But it's not about me being lazy or something, as I might appear at first. The winds of change are to blame. The winds began to blow as soon as I thought about moving to another place... [ more.. ]

[ 4th Apr 2004 ] gawk's notes on Crimea | 2 comments | leave a comment

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 great.

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 peninsula.

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.

The City

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 spirally.

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 suburbs:

  • 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 slowness.

    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.

  • Khersones

    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 latest syllable).

  • 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 spiritual.

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 Silver.

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 Ukrainka writer.

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 beginning.

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 truth, unfortunately.

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 summer.

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 tuned.

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