Moscow - Petushki.
It is not easy to write about the journey from Moscow to Petushki after Venedikt Erofeev sang the same journey in his Poem.
But you have to write.
The idea to go along the legendary route was born a long time ago, but for various reasons it was postponed. One of these reasons was the complete absence of tourist attractions in Petushki. There is practically nothing there. Rooster Museum. (Well, don’t go, you don’t understand where for the sake of such a strange place. ) Steam locomotive. The tower, designed by the architect Shukhov. A small art gallery, where one of the rooms is given over to an exposition related to V. Erofeev and his work. It is clear that these are not reasons to drop everything and wave at Petushki.
And on the other hand, at the end of your life, you will list what has been done and known or not done in time. And so... Did you meet the dawn on a fishing trip? - Met. Petted a little donkey on the nose? Stroked. Did you spend the night with a girl on the beach? Conducted. Fought half to death? Fought. Have you sniffed the belly of a two-week-old puppy? sniffed. Did you go to Petushki? Oh you! Did not have time.
And we decided to go.
Discussion and preparation began a few months before the expected date of the trip. At first, they decided to fully comply with the text of the Poem. But it turned out to be difficult, and life-threatening. Here, let's say, is the most primitive recipe for Venichka -
I won't remind you how polish is cleaned, every baby knows that. For some reason, no one in Russia knows why Pushkin died, but everyone knows how polish is cleaned.
In short, write down the recipe for Balm of Canaan. Life is given to a person once, and it must be lived in such a way as not to make mistakes in the recipes:
Denatured alcohol — 100 g.
Velvet beer — 200g.
Cleaned polish - 100 g.
So, in order not to take risks and not be boring, it was decided to recreate the spirit of the times as much as possible, but without extreme sports. For the convenience of drinking and eating on the train, I made a small prefabricated table from what was in the barn, which I did not mind throwing away upon arrival. It turned out to be very handy.
Here it is in my right hand.
Since it was the trip in the train that was appointed the main action of the event, everyone prepared notably. We took a fair amount of appetizers, and there were quite a few substitutes for Venichka's cocktails. True, for the sake of safety, everything was poured into innocent mineral water bottles.
Chapter "Hammer and Sickle - Karacharovo"
And immediately drank it.
In this photo, everything is clear and logical. Sandwiches with sprats and sandwiches with lard. Salt, certainly in a matchbox. Mandatory crushed eggs. Radish soaked in water. And all this on the newspaper "Soviet Sport". But only a connoisseur and connoisseur of the Poem "Moscow-Petushki" will note how carefully we treated the author's text.
Here is the recipe for the Komsomolskaya Tear cocktail -
Lavender - 15g.
Verbena - 15 g.
"Forest Water" - 30 g.
Nail polish - 2 g.
Tooth Elixir - 150 g.
Lemonade - 150 g.
The mixture prepared in this way should be stirred for twenty minutes with a branch of honeysuckle. Others, however, argue that, if necessary, honeysuckle can be replaced with dodder. This is false and criminal! Cut me lengthwise and across - but you will not force me to stir the “Tears of the Komsomol” with the dodder, I will stir it with honeysuckle. I’m just torn to pieces with laughter when I see how the “Tears of the Komsomol Member” are being stirred in my presence not with honeysuckle, but with dodder...
In the vase there is exactly a branch of honeysuckle, and not some kind of dodder.
To our great regret, two very important people for the trip could not go with us. The first of them is really a connoisseur and connoisseur of the work of Venedikt Erofeev, who can quote the poem almost by heart. In this regard, the text was printed and read from the sheet. (Here he lies on the table. ) And the second person who did not go knows all the recipes and references to food that are in the poem. And most importantly, this person knows how to cook udders.
– Will you order anything?
- And what about you - only music?
- Why "only music"? There is beef stroganoff, a cake. Udder…
Nausea set in again.
- What about sherry?
- No sherry.
- Interesting. There is udder, but no sherry!
- Very interesting. Yes. Sherry is not. And the udder is there.
I had to somehow get out of the situation. Make an ersatz udder. Do not judge strictly. I, as a true Muscovite, perhaps, have never seen a real cow's udder. Therefore, two extra nipples and turned out.
Yes, and what did I leave - where I left and I'm going? A couple of dead footcloths and government trousers, pliers and a rasp, an advance and overhead - that's what he left! What's ahead? What's in Petushki, on the platform? - and on the platform there are red eyelashes, prostrate, and the swaying of forms, and a braid from the back of the head to the priests. And after the platform - St. John's wort and port wine, bliss and cramps, delights and convulsions. Queen of heaven, how far is it to Petushki!
Fortunately, we had a friend with us who had both eyelashes, swaying forms and, with some violence, a braid to the buttocks.
Vera Nikolaevna met us on the platform. (Order 8 96.7224161) A representative of that wonderful tribe of guides who are in love with their small town, its history, its people. We were immediately shown most of the Petushkov attractions.
Steam locomotive.
And the Shukhov Tower on Shabolovka.
And then we went to the museum. Vera Nikolaevna honestly tried to tell us about the history of her city. It was interesting enough. One list of the names of the first inhabitants of Petushki is worth something. .
But our goal was different. I had, alas, to interrupt this wonderful woman and ask him to show exactly Erofeev's artifacts.
What we saw was good, but very sad. A small room where personal belongings of Venedikt Erofeev were kept.
Local enthusiasts made benches based on electric trains of those years.
Installations recreating the spirit of the Poem.
And that's all. . . The Minister of Tourism of the Vladimir Region is a woodpecker. Yes, the temples of Vladimir and the monasteries of Suzdal are a must-be. But by investing a little money, you can popularize Petushki. Erofeev has already done almost everything so that the people would go there. Needs a few radio broadcasts. Order a documentary-literary film from an intelligent director and play it on TV at the right time. Make a tourist attraction on the basis of the museum with a tasting of stylized Balsam of Canaan, Tears of the Komsomol, the Spirit of Geneva and Offal. And so....Thanks to the enthusiasts. Thanks to the tour guide, who recited poems to us at parting. By the way, Vera Nikolaevna has a feature that distinguishes her from other Russian guides. She, understanding to whom and why the tourists came, calmly treats, to varying degrees, their high spirits.
But I found something else in this room. Bring back someone. There were three other tourists besides us. And this is one of them. And this braid. And this pop. I couldn't help but roll.
And so even there are no hotels in Petushki. Rather, there are, but painfully obscene. One of them is called Durex (Visit).
I had to take a taxi to spend the night in Pokrov. There were booked rooms and a sauna in a huge truckers' recreation complex. It turned out to be quite good.
Even though we managed to make our trip in the wildest snow storm, when 125 percent of the monthly snow norm fell on central Russia in a day and truckers sat in this complex, because hell was going on on the roads.
They were quiet. Respecting the rest of colleagues and tourists, they walked around the hotel silently and carefully. Noisy and outrageous only in a cafe where I met the nicest driver from Slovakia. In my youth, I had to work as a visual aid in a summer camp for the study of the Russian language in Czechoslovakia. Since that time, several local folk songs have remained in my memory, which I performed in an embrace with this cheerful bearded guy.
And the swimming pool-sauna-billiards complex that we rented there was above and beyond. For example, we have never seen a pool with underwater colorful music before.
And it was good for us. And we frolicked like mermaids and dolphins.
And the table was set. One of my friends brought a cooked real udder. !!!! ! By car!!!! !
And there were many different things. The main ones were sprats in tomato, brought from Murmansk. But how could we, celebrating the completion of the route Moscow - Petushki, barbarously open this delicacy, pulling the ring? Of course not! Just like that, turning over the bank. Like in 1970
