Alcotour to Odessa
4 days off were approaching. And what to do with it? Maybe our government is not so wrong in slowly taking away our legal holidays? Agree that drinking four days in a row is hard. And sitting in the country, the only way to kill time. There should be some way to pass the time more culturally. Previously, we would not even bother about this. Would-be, would-be. Now 4 days off will not be enough for Crimea. Where can a peasant go?
Turpravda has been my second home for several years now. No, I'm lying. Because I'm only here during business hours. So it's a second job. Nevermind. The fact is that, while talking nicely here, I got acquainted with a bunch of people. And from some fragmentary information, half hints, half wishes, I crystallized the intention to go to Odessa. Four, and even three days, as I thought, should be enough. This is not Yalta! The last fat drop that overflowed the cup of my intention was the receipt from someone of the amount promised to me long ago, which was almost enough for me to rent an apartment in Odessa for a couple of nights. It only remained to convince Vadik, who knew nothing about my Turpravdin affairs, that we would be fine in Odessa, well, almost like in Yalta. Vadik, it was, grimaced (in Odessa, he, being at the training camp, lay for some time in the hospital and, of course, ran through the fence with the boys to the city). I had to use heavy artillery in the form of a promise that it would be an alcohol tour. In the Crimea, soon there will be nothing to drink except hawthorn tincture. And in Odessa, according to rumors, you can inexpensively drink draft wine from nearby factories. Yes, and the apartment, one might say, is paid off! He gave up. I won. But it was also necessary to inform him somehow that we would not be alone there. Surprisingly, Vadik reacted calmly to this. The anticipation of the liquor dulled his vigilance.
On Friday evening, we got into our bus Mariupol-Odessa, which was packed to capacity, and the rest began! In order not to look too wrinkled after a sleepless night and not to frighten her friends on the Internet, she told Vadik the day before that we would not drink on the road! So she took it and said!
A group of relatively young (about 30 years old) girls rode with us on the bus, who, immediately after the departure of the bus, opened a bottle of wine and began to loudly discuss yesterday's DR of one of them. According to them, which the whole bus heard, they had a lot of fun! Ride in a limousine loaded with champagne, martinis, rum and gin. We ate shawarma. And so appetizingly they told me that I looked reproachfully at Vadik. And we? But what about us? Noticing the sly gleam in his eyes, I realized that he did everything right, i. e. vice versa. And we, it turns out, have everything. True, this was only 250 grams. Well, nothing, that's enough for a start. The girls continued to have fun, which not everyone liked, which they did not fail to notice. To which the girls said that it was not yet 11 p. m. , and they had every right to make noise. However, we turned the volume up a bit.
At the Berdyansk bus station, instead of going to the toilet, we rushed to the store to continue the banquet. Girls, of course, too. When I wrote that the bus was packed to capacity, I did not exaggerate in the least, because the driver picked up the left passengers who were standing in the aisle. In Berdyansk they left, but others appeared instead. Some were placed on stools, others sat on the steps, and, well, stood in the aisle too. Young guys turned out to be standing, and they stood right next to the girls. Of course, even more lively communication began. It didn't bother us in the slightest, but on the contrary, it made us happy. We were on the same wavelength with them, although we did not interfere with anyone. We are quiet alcoholics, breaking the silence only with the characteristic creak of a cork pulled out of a cognac bottle. Well, the rest of the people periodically began to resent loudly. But the girls still had a conscience. At ten minutes to eleven, one of them, looking at her watch, said to the others something like “We’re talking faster, otherwise there are ten minutes left! ”.
The bus was comfortable enough, the distances between the seats were, for once, sufficient to accommodate the long legs of Vadka. In addition, our seats were near the second door, i. e. no one was sitting behind us, and it was possible to calmly lower the chair without lying down, at the same time, on anyone's knees. But I still felt uncomfortable. Well, I can't sit with my legs down for a long time. I definitely need to throw them somewhere. Looking back, I saw that there was a partition in front of the seats located behind the door, where it would be very convenient to put the legs. Oh, you had to ask at the box office for these places! But Vadik said that these are bad places - you can’t put your legs forward under the seats there.
The place of arrival was written on our tickets - Odessa railway station. I thought that the bus station is somewhere in the railway area. I looked at the map - Privoz is somewhere nearby, and our future place of lodging for the night too. The bus was a little late. We were promised to be settled exactly at half past ten and asked not to be late. After buying return tickets at the ticket office of the bus station, we had forty minutes left, and we slowly moved in the right direction, as I thought. The street along which we were moving was a solid flea market where all sorts of interesting stuff was sold. From which I decided that somewhere around the corner should be Privoz. But he was not our goal yet, and, seeing that time was already starting to run out a little, they began to ask for directions. We were sent, for some reason, in the wrong direction, where I would have gone according to my own understanding. In the end, we had to almost run to make it.
We entered the gateway we needed after some girl, who was just unlocking the gate.
Soon the hostess came up. She offered us a choice of two equivalent apartments located in the same yard. We gave her 800 hryvnia, due for 2 nights, and 200 deposit for the possible loss of the key. No questions, sort of. who we are and where from, was not asked. Nobody was going to take a picture of the passport either.
Quickly freshening up, running to the store, buying the necessary minimum products and having breakfast, we rushed to meet new friends - Matveyka and LaFifa. As part of the drinking tour, a local resident LaFifa promised to take us to the market for draft wine, followed by drinking it somewhere in nature. While we were wandering in a crowd to the New Market, Lada gave out a lot of information on architecture and history. Unfortunately, I do not perceive information well by ear, I can listen to audiobooks five times one chapter. Here the printed word is imprinted in the brain thoroughly. Therefore, do not ask me what it is and where it is. It's better to go to the original source.
Without a guide, we would not have found anything on the market. The wine point we longed for was located in the most perfect corner of the market. Having tried a bunch of everything and bought something that seemed edible to us, we moved to "nature". On the way we went to the store to buy water. I came across Moldovan champagne Cricova - one of the four natural ones in the post-Soviet space. It has not been observed in Mariupol for a long time. Brut cost 160 UAH. However! There was no Artemovsky at all.
We did not settle down in Shevchenko Park, fearing close attention from representatives of law enforcement agencies. Let's go to the beach. Despite the strong wind and the sun in the haze, sunbathers were already present there. And drinkers too. Barely finding a place to settle down, they somehow settled down. Under a pleasant conversation, the wine went away, like in dry sand. The guard of the beach establishment, on the steps of which we sat down, tried to choke us, but we did not succumb. I arranged a photo shoot for sparrows pecking in the sand nearby. And every now and then another photo session accidentally fell into my frame. The girl, apparently, having waited for her prince, took away the white horse from him and rode out as best she could.
We were already quite well, and we went for a walk. It’s good that I tried to photograph something, otherwise I wouldn’t remember anything. In a Georgian establishment, we ordered lamb kebab and Mikulin draft beer. The meat was on ribs. Completely odorless. We never identified him. But it's not lamb. Not pork, not beef. Snapping a pic didn't work for anyone. But we didn’t forget the cat.
Cats are not served here. Maybe it was a dog?
And instead of Mikulitsky draft, they brought us bottled Obolon. We decided, apparently, that we were so drunk that we would not notice the catch!
Then we wandered somewhere else, having lost the Chernihiv residents, who finally left to settle in their hotel. I wanted Cricova champagne, but the store where I saw it, we have long passed, and in those that we came across along the way, it was not. Primoriv our guides, said goodbye and went home. But our mission has not yet been completed! We still needed to get water in the pump room. Taking the bottles, we went to the nearby square, where the pump room is located. But it (pump room) was already closed! Well there is no way! Then we went to the store, and out of chagrin we bought cognac. They had dinner.
I slept great in my new place! In the morning we woke up, against the usual six, as much as seven o'clock! It turned out that the phone was dead. I managed to charge it quite a bit. We had breakfast and went back to the pump room, which worked from 8. There was a line, mostly of men with a bunch of five-liter eggplants. There was no information about the composition and origin of the water. After standing for about ten minutes and collecting our two small bottles, we returned home. The water tasted completely normal. No hydrogen sulfide, no taste of mineral water. Maybe she is the same as in the crane? Only free?
Our plans for today included a trail of health. Our new friends are not as early risers as we are, so we went out on our own. The day before, LaFifa showed us where this trail begins. On the way to it, I wanted to try local kvass from a barrel. Rare bullshit! Absolutely no gas! Never buy!
The trail was quite picturesque, if only mountains would grow here! By the way, the weather that day was not like yesterday. There was an absolute calm, and the sun was roasting kinder. We took divers and a towel, therefore, having gone down to the beach that we liked, we decided to settle down here for a while. The locker rooms had not yet been set up, and they were crowded under the parapet. With an open door, they went out onto the same parapet.
Quite without a second thought, I went there and changed clothes. It was only later that I noticed that although I was not visible from the sea, I was clearly visible from the top of the parapet, where sometimes someone roamed around! Well, think about it! I have nothing to hide from people! True, I covered Vadik with a towel.
Replenishing the ranks of the few, so far, sunbathers, we sat a little on the towel, called Matveyka, who had already awakened, and said that we would call him later. But just sitting is boring, and there is nothing to lie on. I went for a swim. Going to the water, I realized that it was completely impossible. The water was just fe! Solid slime.
Then I went behind the neighboring breakwater. The water was clear there, and I went into the water. It feels like 12 degrees. And in the forecast they wrote 7. As always, they lied! Having bathed herself, she drove Vadik into the water. He went in up to his knees, washed himself and went out. Before reaching the towel, he turned around and went back. Still bathed! How it is? To be at sea and not swim? Moreover, we are unlikely to get to the Black Sea this year. On the way, we saw signs indicating the temperature of water, air, and even sand! First time I've seen this! Very valuable information. Sand in the summer is, I think, 50-60 degrees. As a rule, all the signs were still empty, but in one place it was indicated that the water was 11 degrees. I almost guessed! Forecasters are resting!
Changed and went further along the path, joining the crowd, thirsty, like us, for health. People walked, ran, rolled on bicycles and scooters. There were also lazy people on tourist electric cars.
Periodically, we turned off the path to look at the beaches. Once again, going up to the cliff with a camera, I saw a group of nudists. I hurriedly retreated, afraid that they would think that I was taking a picture of them! I did not expect that they were here at all, and even in such a quantity! Crimea is resting! There, they are bored, as a rule, in secluded places. And here, after all, the feature of a millionth city! There were several such boring beaches.
Then we came across a beach where there were no nudists, but there were absolutely amazing rocks.
Near the beach, tempted by the shurpa boiling in cauldrons, we dined at a very nice and expensive Santorini restaurant.
Everything is fine, but Vadik began to resent: “What kind of alcohol tour is this? Already half a day has passed, and we are not in one eye! He threatened to start drinking beer.
Next, there were closed, clean beaches belonging to the SBU and border guards.
Who would have doubted! The best for children!
And then there were all sorts of catering establishments of various kinds, the crown of which were the Ithaca and Ibiza clubs, separated by a pier.
We went to the pier.
The sea is a creepy fairy! However, this did not stop some from enjoying it! A flock of Indians frolicked in the cold water.
Goa, no matter what!
A child can't get cold either!
A dressed-up girl, walking sedately along the pier, at the end of it fell to her knees. I thought she fell. But no! This is she on purpose to crawl to the edge and thus look into the abyss!
Perpendicular to the sea, there was a promenade with a water park, a mini-botanical garden, boutiques, cafes, fountains and other attractions.
Very crowded and festive. In the evening, it must be incredibly beautiful here!
Further on, a metropolis with ultra-modern buildings began. Glamorous girls walked towards. One of them was wearing flip-flops, like homemade ones, with fluffy membranes. Then a father came out of the car with a small son. The son was in a warm jacket and! hat!
I decided, it was, to drive to the center. We got on the tram number 5. While Vadik was looking for a change and waiting for the conductor, I already decided that we had sat down here in vain - the seats were all occupied, and you couldn’t see anything standing. At the next stop, we got off and wanted to move on. But it was not there! Carriage respected car respected, two times younger than us, shouting “Young people! Pay for the ride! ” rushed to us from the tram, throwing his steering wheel (or whatever he calls it). Vadik had to pay off the stubborn driver with a triple for me. He himself is a pensioner. And I'm an unfinished hare.
So, we walked further along French Boulevard. Behind the fence was a vast green and rather abandoned area. We came across the entrance with a sign from which it was clear that behind the fence, it turns out, is the Botanical Garden.
Entry cost 30 UAH. But we were exhausted not even by Narzan, so we did not go there. Maybe tomorrow?
And then we found a hole in the fence, through which every now and then someone got in and out. So, apparently, no one goes to the botanical garden through the gate. And then we came across (oh happiness! ) A champagne factory.
No, well, we knew that Odessa champagne is a rare nastiness, but there is a fish for lack of fish and cancer! We went to their company store, located on a quiet green area of the plant. Without hesitation, we bought a bottle of nutmeg brut for 70 UAH. And where would you drink it? Maybe return to the hole in the fence and climb under some secluded bush in the botanical garden? Vadik offered to drink it right here, without leaving the cash register. So there is a bench under a yew tree, next to a sculptural composition, apparently symbolizing the harm of child alcoholism.
The cast boy was holding the severed arm of the cast girl. I told Vadik that the guard would shoot us by hanging if we started drinking here. But then I had the brilliant idea to ask his permission. With this intention, I broke into his booth and asked in an unctuous voice: “And if we drink a bottle of champagne on your bench, will you drive us away? ” He nodded his head from top to bottom. I regarded it as “Yes, I’ll drive it away! ” and wanted to run. But, after a reciprocating movement from the lips of the peace officer followed: “Drink! ” Joyful, we rushed to the shop, where the drinking happened.
What can I say? Expected - . . vno . . vnom. True, not just . . obviously, but nutmeg! But the taste of Muscat completely overwhelmed the taste of carbonic acid. However, we bought another bottle just in case. Well, at least give Verka. Finally, after pestering the guard once again, asking where we are and how we can get to the center, we left the hospitable courtyard.
But we did not take the fifth tram again, as the guard advised us, but turned off the boulevard into some lane towards the sea. After wandering among the orphan huts, we went to Filatov's clinic. And then they went down again to the path of health. OOOO! The whole green area was just packed with those who were eager to spend health!
Smoke from the braziers was dizzying. Or were they bubbles of golimy Odessa champagne? It so happened that we again went to the beach on which we had been in the morning. They freaked out one more time. We drank the second bottle of shampoo (sorry, Verka! )
We wanted to call our friends, but it turned out that the phone was completely dead. Damn! The people will think that we are frostbitten and decided to throw everyone! Therefore, in order to save time, we didn’t go on foot, but climbed up on the funicular, akin to what is in the center of Yalta. This pleasure cost as much as 35 UAH.
Champagne was already pressing on all the internal organs, I had to go to some cafe in order to freshen up. Feel better. On the way we went to a grocery store to buy groceries. Seeing Cricovian brut for only 130 UAH, they bought it too. At home, we quickly changed clothes and slightly recharged the phone. We were finally able to connect with our friends. They were sitting in a cafe on Deribasovskaya. We said that we would now hit the road to Privoz for wine and join them. The delivery turned out to be, oddly enough, very close. The people were already resting, and we, like fools, almost sober, were still rushing about in search of booze.
We knew the wine shops closed at 6pm. It was already about twenty minutes before we broke into the gates of the market.
Immediately at the entrance, we found one of them. But she ended up with Tairov wines, which, as we already knew, are a rare poison. However, Marsala was found there, which, however, cost as much as 150 UAH. per litre. Having drunk a glass for testing, Vadik just hung on it. I barely got him out of there. In search of the Ovidiopol point, we ran around half the market. In the process, they ran into the fish rows. The smell there reminded me a lot of either Sri Lanka or Goa. Prices are childish. There is no fresh mullet. Where is the Ovidiopol wine? No one knows. Called LaFife. We were told to go out to Panteleimonovskaya (or Panteleevskaya? ) Street. We ask Moldovan radish traders what kind of street we are standing on? They are neither be nor me. While we were running, it struck six! AAAAA! Everything is lost! Now we will turn into a pumpkin!
When it was already past seven, thanks to the instructions of LaFifa's husband, we finally found what we needed in an absolutely incredible nook. There was no time to try, and we bought a liter of bear blood and TWO liters of Cahors. Breathing a sigh of relief, we went to a meeting with friends who were sitting on Deribasovskaya in Clarebar.
We sat with them for a while, drinking the purchased Cahors, which turned out to be not at all as good as the one bought yesterday at the New Market. But don't spill it! Let's go for a walk. The guys showed us many more beautiful buildings, but as it turned out, I ran out of memory on the camera! It was less necessary to take pictures of sparrows and other miscellaneous nonsense! There is, of course, a phone, but it's barely charged!
It was getting dark. Many buildings are illuminated. Beautiful!
But then Vadik suddenly twisted and began to vomit uncontrollably! I had to rush home. My poor little girl was literally turned inside out. And what was it? Shurpa? Wine? Everyone ate and drank the same. I, nevertheless, sin on a roto-virus infection in the sea. Although the water temperature for her is still quite low. Be that as it may, the heroic organism coped until the morning without outside help. But Vadik was afraid to have breakfast with scrambled eggs and I boiled hard-boiled eggs for him. Then she hopefully asked: “Are you going to drink champagne? ” Oh, naive!
Catching up on yesterday, we went to where we were in the evening - to Teschin Bridge, turning on the way to the Opera House, which we did not bother to properly examine yesterday.
We were approached by guides in an electric car with an offer to go to the catacombs and somewhere else. A homeless person passing by swore at them and said that he would have told them better than they. He has been living here for 43 years and knows for sure that . . it's your Odessa! We seized the moment and fled.
On the mother-in-law bridge, we sat on a bench and drank Moldovan champagne.
So what? Again nonsense! Remembering that the store was located on Malaya Arnautskaya, they thought that smuggling should be like that. Read the label. It was written on it that the champagne was made by secondary champagne in some kind of tanks !!!!! ! In what other, pancake, reservoirs? We were in the Novosvetsky factory of champagne wines and saw that the wine is champagne directly in the bottles. It's an insanely painstaking process. And then there are the reservoirs! Brrr! Well, they drank, of course. We watched an aunt who brought a bunch of children on a tour. Aunt was in all black, including a hat and gloves!
It was time to move out. We had a bite to eat at home, packed our clothes, and called the realtor that we were ready. The hostess came. I suggested that she count the spoons and forks, but when she saw the live remote control from the TV, she gave us a deposit and let us go in peace. They dragged the junk to Lada. Having become better acquainted with the owner's cat and leaving the junk, we went to finish our short acquaintance with Odessa. First we went to the seaport, but it was very hot there even for me.
But we saw dolphins frolicking in the water area. We moved to the park on a bench. Then they sat near Nemo on a wooden deck, their legs dangling. Beer brightened up leisure. Then we decided to have a bite and went to some cafe on the Longeron.
When there was an hour left before the departure of the bus, we deigned to leave the institution. Having taken things from Lada, we went to the bus station near the railway. Lada accompanied us. Arriving at the sixth platform, the number of which was persistently given to us by the cashier when selling tickets, five minutes before departure, we did not find the bus there. I got worried. I asked the people sitting on the bench: “Where is the bus? ” To which I was told - I left! How did you leave? I'm drunk, drunk, but I figured to run to the cashier. I poked the tickets in the nose of the cashier and asked if the bus leaves from this bus station? No, on the other! AAAAAA! Here is an ambush! I run to the taxi drivers. How far to another bus station! Hundred! Go! We jumped into a taxi exactly at the hour of departure of our bus. We drove for five or ten minutes. Jumping out of the taxi and handing him a hundred, she told the driver to wait, if anything. Running to the platform, I found my bus, peacefully standing, and not yet started. Phew! My relief knew no bounds!
We found our places. And what do you think? These turned out to be exactly the places that I wanted, but Vadik did not want - behind the second door. At night, I lifted my legs as I wanted. But this did not save me from sitting out all the soft, and not very, places. I hate long distance buses. And what's interesting! This happiness cost us 570 hryvnia from Mariupol (per person). From Odessa it was 30 hryvnia cheaper, which in itself is outrageous. But, having learned from Chernihiv friends how much they paid, we generally went nuts. Their tickets were almost half the price for virtually the same length of journey. Well, yes! We are still the richest region! We still milk and milk! Ugh! Disgusting.
Well, I'm not talking about that. Regardless, I enjoyed the trip. Odessa, as it seemed to Vadik and me, is much better than both Kyiv and Lvov. And this is not even taking into account the presence of the sea, which in itself is a huge plus. That there are many more ancient buildings that are absolutely different from each other, that super-modern heterogeneous ones. If you choose where to live from these three, Odessa is definitely! But to go here is far and expensive for us. And this is, after all, a city. Urban city. I still love Yalta. And nothing can replace it for me. For the price, by the way, Odessa is almost at its level.
But what is the main thing on a trip? For me, it's an experience. I got them through the roof. Enough memories until the next still such a long trip. And a lot of the credit for this belongs to my new friend LaFifa. God bless her!
