Chronicles of the besieged peninsula
Chronicles are us, hopelessly chronically ill with Crimea. And as usual with the chronicles, the expected spring exacerbation happened to us. Until May, there was no strength to endure. The long weekend of International Our Day loomed ahead, the prospect of four days of unbridled gluttony and all-consuming drunkenness was terrifying. It was decided to run. We wrote to two landladies with whom we had previously stayed. One was occupied, and the second agreed to rent an apartment to us at last year's price - 800 rubles / day. Having asked how often the power is turned off, they received an answer - for an hour and a half in the evening and for a short time in the morning. The prospect of sitting without light did not frighten us at all. Another thing was annoying - eyewitness stories about the selection of products at the border. I found on the Internet a certain list of grubs allegedly allowed for transportation. There was no alcohol, of course. Where are we without him? You have to smuggle. But lard and cheese (though soft) were on the list. In general, my smuggler's kit looked like this: cognac poured into eggplants from under Dyutik whiskey, three pieces of vacuum-packed smoked brisket and five Druzhba cheese curds. On the eve of departure, I called the carrier and ordered two places to Simferopol, I tried to find out how things are in real life with the selection of products. I was told that that list is fucked up, everyone is taken away! Hmm, sadness! On reflection, she put aside the largest eggplant 0.7 from under Old Monk. Okay, let's break through!
On a gloomy Saturday morning, we arrived at the bus departure point. Here we were in for a surprise, oddly enough, a pleasant one - on the occasion of March 8, all women were given a discount on travel in the amount of 50 UAH. Having thus paid 950 hryvnias, we hit the road. It began to rain. For some reason, a slight shiver ran through me. Probably, this is how smugglers feel when they go into business. In order not to be bored on the road, we began the partial destruction of contraband. The driver of our bus at one of the parking lots, noticing what we were having fun with, said that we should drink brandy to the border, otherwise they would take it away. Aha! Finish all the cognac? What if firewood is also smuggling? How do we get through customs? : ))))
We arrived at the border. It hadn't rained here, but it was still overcast. Judging by the new sign, we are entering, it turns out, the Crimean Tatar Autonomous Republic! The customs officer put his hand into the bag and fumbled for a while. Naive! Order in a women's bag, or rather its absence, is a byword. How many times it happened, looking for, looking for the keys, but they are not! And it’s not clear where the phone is torn! And it's good if there is one compartment in the bag. If two - it's just a disaster! And since this time it was I who was engaged in collecting the travel bag, it could safely be equated with my everyday reticule : )))))). Having found nothing military there, they let me go in peace. Brisket and processed cheese were saved! We also had a backpack with us, in which we initially wanted to put booze. But at the last moment they changed their minds and put one eggplant in the inner pocket of the jacket, and the second one for me....(well, we won't elaborate). I can only say that I felt like an unfinished Marilyn Monroe, I was afraid to make some awkward movement, while dropping the ill-fated eggplant at the most inopportune moment. But everything went smoothly. And no one even looked into the backpack. On the Russian side there was a sign prohibiting the import of lard and other pig products. But nobody checked the luggage.
The closer we got to Simferopol, the brighter it got. At fifteen zero zero our time, we were already on the railway. It was absolutely sunny here and that made it even more joyful! There were decent queues at the bus ticket offices, but, nevertheless, in half an hour we were already sailing to Yalta. Driving through Simferopol, we noticed trees already blooming!
We were in Yalta at half past seven local time, found the key under the mat, threw our bags and ran to the market. We were lucky and he still worked. Prices, as it was last year, no longer shocked us. Firstly, the exchange rate of the ruble fell from 5 to 3.6, and secondly, our prices have considerably caught up with the Crimean ones. We found horse mackerel for 90 rubles (last year it cost 100-150) and fish giblets (caviar and liver) for 200 rubles. And there is no mullet! Here's a bummer! The sellers said that her season starts in April! And I can say I came for her! Okay, let's get by with the horse mackerel!
We returned, boiled the fish soup and fried the fish, and just started the meal - the lights went out. Light a candle - romance! It went on for exactly half an hour. We've already hit it off. For some reason, we did not want to go to the embankment, and with a clear conscience we fell asleep. I don't know how much I slept - I was awakened by slamming doors and loud conversations. In Shanghai, where we lived, there were a lot of flats and apartments for rent, like ours, and the doors of all several tiers opened onto a courtyard-well. Hearing is amazing. I honestly tried to sleep, but the clapping didn't stop. And then the violators of my sleep went from talking to deeds - they began to sing in chorus! No, they didn’t sing “the hard years are passing away” at all, but some kind of Baptist nonsense. That damn it, you sing in the room allotted to you! The walls are thick, you won't hear it. What the hell is singing on the balcony? Then everything suddenly calmed down. There were no farewell kisses, no long send-offs.
I didn't get enough sleep. But that's no reason to chill out. We have only four days and a lot of plans! For today, I had planned Mount Koshka, Simeiz, Vorontsovsky Park and the Sunny Path. We were in Simeiz, but not on Mount Koshka. I read on the Internet that you can climb the mountain and go down the path to the village. Having reached the destination by bus Yalta-Sevastopol, we walked along the path,
The cat climbed on the scruff of the neck and began to look for a way to get down to the village. And figurines! Having poked around in different directions and never found a more or less safe path, without sipping salty, we returned to the highway and went to the village along the road.
Nothing has changed there, only the peasants on the alley have finally been given hands, and not only.
We climbed Divo rock. The last time we were here in January 2011, a terrible wind was blowing, I was almost blown off the cliff. So what? Now it was the same in terms of wind.
Taking the 115 bus, we got to the Vorontsov Palace.
We wandered around the park and sat down on our bench.
The paths of the park were sprinkled with fresh screenings. Kind children did not fail to take advantage of this and, picking up full handfuls, threw it into the lake. Some parents made comments to their children, while others did not bother with such trifles.
On the same bus 115 we got to the sanatorium named after. Rosa Luxembourg and went along the Solar Path.
In Livadia, we went to a wine cellar, where last year we found Massandra's bastardo on tap at a reasonable price. But alas and ah! Everything had already been drunk before us. There was, however, both port and Cahors, but not at all Massandra, but....Bakhchisarai! No thanks! In frustrated feelings, they left for Yalta.
Let's go to explore the range of local supermarkets. ATB has already been renamed PUD (food at home), but Furshet has remained so. The range is the widest. Ukrainian products, by the way, are also present. Seeing some vodka, the price of which, in terms of hryvnias, was even cheaper than ours, I could not resist and shot it on a tablet - they won’t believe it! The security guard came running and said that this was no way to do it! I explained to him why I was doing this, and I tried to remove the frame, but they kindly allowed me to keep it.
This evening the lights were not turned off at all. At night, no chants woke me up. Apparently, the Baptists only choke on Saturdays.
On the second day, a completely new route was assigned, found on the Internet. We were to enjoy the waterfalls in one of the gorges above Yalta. But to get there, you have to sweat. The description of the route with photos was printed out. I knew before that somewhere, over the Sevastopol highway, you can climb and always looked out for trails, driving a minibus in that direction. But the approaches to the mountains were built up with all sorts of different huts, and it was completely incomprehensible how to seep into the mountains. And finally it happened. We are going there. After crossing the highway, we went along the route. We passed the service station, some dachas, went along the river. Seeing a woman with a dog on the shore, we decided to clarify the route. Turns out we left early. We had to turn around for the next gas station. Well, it's okay, it's possible. The woman very intelligibly explained to us how to find the gorge we were looking for. Having rounded the vineyards and passed through the forest, we finally reached the path described in the printout. We found the lower waterfall without any problems.
But where the top, called "Diana's font", from the description was completely incomprehensible. Fortunately, we met an elderly couple who showed us the direction. At the end of the trail, they found a hole in the rock, from where the Temiar River flows out and clearings densely overgrown with snowdrops. Full delight! The best flowers for me are not those that die in a vase, but live, and preferably wild.
But they just couldn't find a place that matched the photo of "Diana's font". There was a steep rock, completely dry, but, apparently, water once flowed from it. We thought that the waterfall had dried up and, disappointed, set off on our way back. On the path we met another couple, about our age. They asked us: “Well, where is the font? ” We replied that we did not find it, and probably the waterfall had dried up. To which they said that they saw another path and went with us to look for it. And, lo and behold, she led us to the font! We just got carried away at the fork in photographing the views that opened up and therefore missed the mark, not noticing another path. And the guys, although they were locals from Yalta, had never been here and also followed the Internet description. After waiting for them to take pictures and leave, I took a bath under the waterfall.
It was still early enough, and we decided to go further to the source of Babu-Koryto, and then also try to find the waterfalls of some Luke in the gorge of the same name, casually mentioned in the same description. The source was found without problems, they poured out the water collected in the waterfall and collected this one. I don't think she tasted any different. From the spring there was a wide road down and a narrow path up. Some kind of crumpled iron arrow without any names pointed to a narrow path. After a short discussion, I insisted on going uphill. Then there was another fork. This time the path was going up steeply, and we decided that it led to the yayla. So we went down the road. She led us to the river. Moreover, above the road it was dry, and below - water flowed. We went down the river. Well, I don’t know, the waterfalls here were quite low, it was hardly what we were looking for.
And then we ran into barbed wire. Then the water intake for the city and the sanitary zone began. We returned to the road and went to Yalta. On the way we met another family and asked them about the waterfalls. The man said that he was born and raised in Yalta, but he had never heard of any Luke waterfalls. So this moment remained a mystery to us. And this is good. Something to do next time.
This night was fun again! Behind the wall in a nearby alley, some kind of murder began. First, the sounds of broken bottles, then a heart-rending woman's scream, then a man's mat-replay. Then the clatter of running feet, then the same thing, but in the opposite direction. Finally, everything was quiet. I never heard the police sirens.
And the next day was the eighth of March! On this occasion, as well as on the occasion of insanely painful legs, we decided to confine ourselves to a light walk. Its object was to be the Nikitsky fault. I found a description of this attraction here, on Turpravda. But no one has been there yet. It was necessary to fill the gap! According to the Internet, it should have been somewhere very close to the highway. Having arrived on the 29th bus, next to Nikita, to the Shkola stop, we crossed the road and went somewhere. No crack was visible. Something long we go! And the path is narrow. And in this cleft, judging by the descriptions, the films “Children of Captain Grant” and “Sportloto-82” were filmed. But how did they bring equipment and artists? Then the path smoothly merged into a wide road that led us to the rock. We climbed it. Beautiful, but not that!
Somewhere we missed. We got back on the road and went back. We saw another group of rocks. Climbed - not that. From the highest stone surveyed the surroundings. They saw something in the distance that matched the description. Let's go there. There was movement between the trees. Hare! I looked closely - no, roe deer! They began to creep closer, holding the tablet at the ready. And there were two of them! But a twig crunched under my foot, and the swift-footed creatures darted off into the thicket before I could clack them. Wow!
It was already close to noon, New World champagne was waiting for us in the fridge, and we were wandering around looking for who knows what! Already spitting and deciding to leave, they suddenly went to the desired object. How much happiness! Nothing special, just a few sheer cliffs, on which a climbing boy was already hanging. But it's cool that the fault is located, really at the very track. And we thrashed who knows where!
While waiting for the minibus, we enjoyed the heat at the bus stop. And the bastard buses rush by without stopping! Neither the Gurzuf, nor the Partenit, nor even the Simferopol buses stopped. Only the same bus 29 from Nikita took us.
And in the city it was not at all as hot as in the mountains. The wind was just freezing! Nevertheless, we went to the beach, taking a shampoo with us. Hiding from the wind behind the pier, we undressed and sunbathed for a couple of hours. Then a cloud slid down from the mountains, and it became chilly. Therefore, I quickly took a swim, changed clothes and we went to finish the walk on the embankment.
We decided to dedicate the last day of our stay to the paths already passed last year - Botkinskaya and Shtangeevskaya. But here, too, something new had to be introduced. I found everything on the same Internet that from Wuchang-Su you can return to the track not along the road, as we foolishly did last year, but along a path in the forest. Well, or by bus, if we can't find a path. I downloaded the bus schedule all in the same place.
Having reached the Glade of fairy tales, we went along the Botkin path. Not very high, on the bank of the river, enthusiasts equipped a new place of rest - a table and benches. For which they were "rewarded" with a small pile of rubbish. Well people! Pobivav!
In three hours, having overcome 4.5 km and an elevation difference of 450 m, we finally climbed Krestovaya Hill.
Then we went down the Shtangeevskaya path to Uchan-Su. I have already described this route, not the easiest.
However, this time we met a family with three children - two years old, six or seven, were stomping themselves, and quite a baby was hanging on the mother's stomach, but with her face forward. Here are the tourists!
Having reached the upper reaches of the Wuchang-Su waterfall, I refreshed myself in the river of the same name, and we sat down on a bench to refresh ourselves. Garbage pigs managed to leave even in this beautiful place. I found a sales receipt with full name lying around right there. buyer.
Dear Evgeny Borisovich! I will not, so be it, call your last name, do not do it again! PROTECT NATURE, YOUR MOTHER!
Having filmed a hyper-extreme video from the very edge of the waterfall, we went down to its foot. It was 12.50. The bus to Yalta left at 13.00 and was already parked. But after all, there were still ten minutes left, and I decided to take a quick look, what if the Wicket cooperative is not working yet and you can go to the waterfall for free? So yes, it didn’t work, and we freely approached and photographed the waterfall from this angle as well.
Run back. It was two minutes to one. And the bus was already gone. And the next one will be only at 14.50! Pah you! Well, then, so be it - let's go down the path. By the way, we found it without difficulty and after 40 minutes we were at the zoo, in the same place where we started our route in the morning. The circle is closed.
Arriving in the city, we first went to the market. Yesterday there was just a sea of flowers, and today it was absolutely empty. And where did it all go? Despite the rather large number of people, they simply could not sell everything. Probably, the flowers suffered the fate of unsold Christmas trees. It's all sad.
Tomorrow we are leaving, but today we decided to splurge and bought a liter of expensive Massandra port for 550 rubles. We found it in a liquor close to home. Last year we already bought something there, but we didn’t like it. And this time we asked to try. It really was him! But our extravagance did not stop there. We bought 50 grams of caviar by weight at the market (3800 r/kg). Eh, walk so walk : )))
Having quickly dealt with caviar, and zaev her ear, we went again to Massandrovsky beach. They no longer took the bedding, because it was not so early and not so hot. On the way, we heard a wild roar - it was the generators at several stores. By the way, I didn’t say – all establishments are equipped with generators. Further, there was light in the shops, and the generators did not work.
It was still pleasant on the beach, the pebbles were warm, and we drank a port bag not without pleasure.
Then we went to the embankment, which was fairly deserted.
And yesterday there was pandemonium! We collected water from the pump room, sat on a bench and went home to have dinner and get ready. Today the light was turned off again at exactly 20.00 and again for exactly half an hour.
In general, I concluded that the weather in Yalta - in January, in May, in March, is about the same. If we get lucky. This year we were lucky, and it was sunny all the days, although there were rains before our arrival, and after - a cold snap was predicted.
On the way, I noticed that trolleybuses now run only from Simferopol to the pass. Further - no. And in Yalta - only minibuses.
A minibus was waiting for us in Simferopol. And there were only five passengers with us. But the discount for girls was still valid and in rubles amounted to a hundred. We paid 1500 r for two in this way. On the way to the border, they finished drinking contraband. It got darker and darker. The sky was overcast, the cognac was over, and with it the holiday. Welcome to the gray routine!
Py. sy. The trip budget was approximately 11.000 rubles and 1.000 UAH.
