Blue "Sol Serin"
On the very day when Yanukovych hurriedly left Nenko, my head, passing by a checkpoint with men armed with clubs, a fire and chants (at the exit to the Borispol highway), wise thoughts visited.
"Will I return to the country, to that country will I return, and will it be me? ".
Perhaps the same thoughts were circulating in the head of the former "charant", but we were moving in different directions.
However, for the first time in Sinai, in Egypt, on the Red Sea, and even as a vacationer. In short, the basket of impressions was carefully shaken out of the Maidans, fugitive presidents, news and other local delights, and I joyfully set it up under the "furious" February sun.
Shuh! The wheels of the liner touch the concrete strip. Applause in the cabin, a hefty airport yurt flies past, then running around between unfamiliar counters, filling out paperwork, and SMELL. The devil knows what it smelled like, but obviously not burnt rubber.
Bingo! I mean, we are in a hotel room with a picturesque view of the hotel's backyard, landing liners and desert sunsets.
View from the room. Before that, there were columns of smoke from burning tires and gunfire. Beautiful view.
"La-po-ta" - as Ivan Vasilievich used to say from the balcony.
A walk around the hotel in the evening in the glow of lights, clubs of unfamiliar tropical smells and faces. And the taste! ! Catching the breath of local aromas pouring from the micro-bar, I still dared to try and . . They are immortal! Those who swallow these local pesticides.
However, tomorrow was February 23, and on the beach I saw . . Everything they said about ours. The Soviet army remained invincible. What is some local dichlorvos in rum bottles to her? A typhoon from disposable plastic cups smelling of chemistry and a typhoon from our cheerful ones, smelling the same with a taste of imported vodka, mixed up on the beach and worked wonders. "I took Mudajian! "
So: the room is clean and comfortable, and whoever says the opposite was not there. A receptionist with a gloomy face as a vizier, supposedly working Internet and a micro shop where you can stick to a magician, and for the spent five dollars, having read the hieroglyphs on the smart screen, he will replenish the SIM card and voila! There is a connection. Buy sims at your local store. Outside, they will give you a SIM card with 100 meters of Internet, and they will merge the replenishment for themselves. You are all the same in hieroglyphs like Einstein on the drum. "We swam, we know. "
Internet
The territory is very beautiful, well-groomed, they drive mosquitoes. a couple of pools, one with a bar. But, "the little Christmas tree is cold in winter. " Sitting waist-deep in cold water is necessary so that you stand in warmth and dryness, not the bartender, but the Lady, and quite "ripe" to warm you up.
Food! ! The restaurant with its bread and sculptural composition in the center seemed well-groomed and tasty and did not bother with hints of the imperfection of the world. I don't remember the menu over the years. But Soupchiki remembered. And the butler of the restaurant. Cool man.
Since all the previous olincluses in the same Tel Aviv and other fervent places were rather lost in my memory, I liked the food and service indescribably. Especially if you are not greedy for the presidents being presented.
True, for a couple of days I could not understand why it was not comfortable to wander around a paradise place. Then it came. Mentally, the local guys are waiting for the white sahib to spew heavenly nectar, in the sense of giving a tip. And I foolishly could not exchange a hundred at home. But after... I plunged into the abyss of self-adoration, saying that I was such a good fellow, and everything suddenly stood up and suddenly began to boom. The staff has turned from devils into angels, the walls are transparent, heaven is promised. Dealt with tea. So everywhere. They have.
Let's go towards the beach. Rather, let's go. On the bus. Although walking there for five minutes on our painted concrete road. Masha from Saratov and Gena from Tagil, Mahmud from Kutaisi and our slippers for all this painting, back and forth. Back and forth.
There are inscriptions in Russian in a public Parisian toilet.
Beach: No fish, corals. . . censorship. Can you imagine my physiognomy when I put my head from pantone into the water? Apparently it was from her that all the fish in this bay, Christianity fled to the monasteries.
WHERE ARE MY Corals Carl!!??
What huddled under the pantone, I can heap from stones at home. Of the fish, there were crucian carp with a muzzle expression like "There is filming! ? And if I find it? " and not yet dried minke whales.
Do you have seeds?
In short, "sand and sun, a wonderful day. " And only on the shore under umbrellas "our people are having fun and rejoicing" - February 23 . . Tra-la-la-la.
But! So Clara had corals with her! Three hundred meters from the pantone. In the wild area to the right of the beach. There we met hedgehogs, butterfly fish and stone fish. Terribly venomous and predictably friendly. As an aperitif, there was not enough barracuda, but our landfall speed was a little less than sound.
butterfly in the wild
Walking even further, we still found real corals, fish and the beauty of the underwater world. On the pantone of the Baron Hotel. Plunging into the depths of the forbidden, I began to shoot everything. In the contract, I came across fish, corals, and practically a mermaid, a girl of breathtaking forms, who glaciously dived beside me and went to a depth unattainable for me. This . . was remembered.
mermaid
Well, fish, or rather clouds of silver galaxies revolving around, striped and sedate dudes of a blue-yellow color scheme and fussy smallness. Oh, and corals! Where without them here. On the Baron.
And then the local ChipyDails swooped in and we were trampled from there with brooms. What to do - the yellow pants (bracelets) of our four and friendly kuuu did not fit the dimensions of the five.
A trip to the corals in the vicinity of Tiran Island brought a lot of unforgettable impressions. Firstly, we forgot that it is Winter now and carelessly, in one lung, we plunged into the sea. And there is wind, waves and scuba gear. Zadubeli sho those Papuans in Yakutia. So do not forget a padded jacket or, at worst, a beach towel. Especially if it's winter.
Dive at Tiran
At the top of Tirana, the barracks of the NATO UN base stuck out forlornly. It's boring and golden there. Especially if there is strong optics. Opposite all the beaches of Sharm. I recalled the Azerbaijani guys who used the optical system for adjusting the antenna of our anti-aircraft complex in order to whine enthusiastically at the agricultural female butts in the fields near Ussuriysk.
About the hotel's beach. Consists of two halves where you can walk to swim and run into a couple of surfer instructors. The main thing here is not to confuse from. How did I do it after I agreed that we would be taught to ride the board alone, but managed to pay another. Pam a couple of frames... Bam.
Omar is a surf instructor. Great guy.
That pain in Omar's eyes. . . My heart was breaking as if I had stolen from a child all his happy childhood along with old age. I had to learn to ride the board twice. The actors of the Big and Small are miserable scumbags and doubles compared to such talents.
THE MOST IMPORTANT. I don’t know how it is now, but in the year 14, the animations in Solserin were Fantastic! I have something to compare, believe me. Such artists, such a soldered and diverse group, I have not seen anywhere else. This is beyond words. Every evening was lived not in vain. Everyone.
Animashki
We then from other hotels went there to visit for the sake of these crazy animators. Along the night highway in the desert. Understand.
