Irrelevant story - 2
Since we did not dare to go to the Elbrus region, we decided to try out the domestic Bukovel. But how far and inconvenient it is! There was a Donetsk-Vorohta train. And who did he disturb? However, there were times when even Mariupol-Ivano-Frankivsk existed, but, apparently, they also considered this an unaffordable luxury. I had to invent a route with transfers. We came up with a transplant in Kyiv, and friends - in Lvov.
In order to make our vacation as cheap as possible, we bought promotional ski passes on the Internet almost a year before the trip, and even for the low season. It came out something like 100 UAH. in a day. The low season began immediately after the Nightmare day of all men - March 8th. To go from one holiday of life to another - what a delight!
On a clear sunny morning in March 2012, we arrived in the capital of our country. Before the next train Kyiv-Ivano-Frankivsk, departing late in the evening, there was still a carriage of time. And it is necessary to spend this time somehow culturally. They dragged their very numerous luggage to the storage room. In addition to skis and boots, we also had to wear helmets, because we were incredibly lucky, and this year the resort management introduced their mandatory wearing in the territory entrusted to them. Rave! We don't wear hats. The maximum that I wear in severe frost is a hood. And here - on you! I had to borrow from friends, and I got a children's helmet of a cheerful red color, which was absolutely not in harmony with the rest of the outfit. Well, okay, not to eat food, but with your own samovar (instructor, in the sense).
We got rid of the junk and went down to the subway. Where would he go? We were in Kyiv a couple of times, and then a very long time ago. We poked around the center, went to Khmelnitsky and the cathedrals, went down past the funicular to the Dnieper. Some suspicious noise caught my attention. It turned out that it was the rustling of fragments of ice, no more than window glass thick, crawling onto a concrete support, and then sliding back. After watching this fascinating process for some time, we went further and found on the opposite side of the street a very attractive object for us - the Massandra on Podil store in the form of a huge wine barrel. Just a holiday! We went inside - the interior is impressive, the prices, however, too. Screwed up badly! Well now, deny yourself the pleasure? We bought our favorite “Bastardo” and the question arose before us, where can we use it now? This is not Yalta for you, the guards are watching so that no drunks, like us, break the riots. But nothing is impossible in the world, and a secluded place has been found! We crossed over the footbridge to the island (or was it the other side? ). There were thick ice floes on the beach. Beautiful! But the place is not very suitable for drinking. Went inland. In the thickets they found a log on which they nested and indulged in their favorite vice, giggling that, they say, they have lived, they have to drink such exquisite wine God knows where.
Finished with the bottle, went back. No, we did not leave her, as you might think, but carried her to the trash can. In this regard, there is no more decent us in the world. Later they told the “come in large numbers” girlfriend where we walked. She was very surprised, and said that none of the locals walk there because of the dogs that attacked people. And we did not know what to be afraid of and passed by. We didn't care about them, but they didn't care about us.
We dined at the Pot-bellied Hut, and, since there was still enough time, we went on foot to the station. On the way we went to the Bessarabian market, went nuts from the prices and quickly retreated. We went to Ecomarket and realized that we wanted to continue the banquet. We bought cognac. And again the same question arose: “Where? ” The guardians of order around are like uncut dogs. After wandering around the station and the surrounding area, we finally found what we were looking for. A half-empty station buffet in a back street, and this despite the fact that in the rest of the station there was absolutely nowhere to even just sit. Having taken something to chew for decency, they settled down at the table farthest from the guard. However, he was very passionate about his laptop, and did not pay attention to anyone. But with the glasses we missed, thrown away with an empty bottle. Well, and this is quite solvable, if you really want to (and you really wanted to, as you understand). They made a “scoop” from the throat in turn.
Since the time was nearing departure, we went to pick up things. And then, by some signs, invisible to others, I see that their nobility is still cut. I can't figure out why, am I normal? Then I thought that, apparently, his "kovt" was at least two times larger than mine. Here's a greedy horse! And how, sickly, did he carry a backpack with helmet boots and a case with two pairs of skis! While loading it all on the third shelf, someone almost nailed it with skis. He was swearing, but stoically endured everything, after which he instantly passed out.
In the morning we arrived in Ivano-Frankivsk. Met a friend and her adult son. They went to Lvov, and then they planned to go by some train to Yaremche, but they did not take into account the fact that the train arrives there late at night and, since we did not plan to live there, it was considered impossible to find accommodation for one night. Therefore, in Lviv, they handed over tickets (they almost did not return the money), and bought them to Ivano-Frankivsk.
There is also a bus station at the railway station. There were more than enough people who wanted to leave for Bukovel, and we would hardly have been able to get on the first bus. But friends who were there earlier gave us the phone number of one peasant (I won’t name it so as not to burn it), who reserves seats on the Ivano-Frankivsk-Bukovel bus if you call him the night before, which we didn’t forget to do, despite the fact that were drunk. A peasant was found near the bus, he put us in the best seats, and we paid him exactly the price of a ticket at the box office, without overpaying anything. At first I could not understand what was the catch here, what was the interest of this man? Then we carefully studied the tickets that he gave us - some were bought at a discount on disability certificates, others - to Yaremcha, although we needed to go to Polyanitsa. In general, handsome - and we feel good, and him. Only the owner of the bus is bad (I don’t know if it is public or private).
I was in these parts for the first time, despite the fact that my grandfather, now deceased, was from here. Hutsul was still the same. Despite the fact that he spent most of his life in the Russian-speaking region and was married to my Russian grandmother, he babbled in his own way. The language barrier did not prevent them, however, from giving birth to as many as six children.
The homeland of my ancestors was somehow not impressive, rather dull, I kept looking out - and where are the mountains? After Yaremche, the landscape became more cheerful, it became more interesting to look out the window. I was impressed by the number of chapels (chapels in Russian). The locals are so pious, in this regard they are very similar to the Georgians (as I found out later). I pinned the house upside down, sorry I didn’t have time to take a picture.
We arrived in Polyanytsya. The owner of our future home met us in a black jeep. Coolness, however! Khatynka stood on a hill, about 5 minutes walk from the main road. But the climb turned out to be so steep and slippery that it was possible to get there only on an all-wheel drive unit. The owners' phone number was picked up by one of their friends. Pretty brand new wooden two-story house with three guest double rooms upstairs. In addition to the rooms, there was a hall, a balcony, a dining room and a combined bathroom. The rooms are small, the beds are so-so, in every room and in the dining room - on TV. The walls, the floor are made of natural wood, the smell is like in a sauna. They heated well, we did not freeze. Here are just a bathroom - sadness. Firstly, it is one for the entire second floor (for 6 people), and secondly, the door is glass and almost transparent. Well it was necessary to think of such a put! But you can immediately see whether it is busy or not. It's good that no one lived in the third guest room, and the four of us somehow fell apart. On the ground floor there is the landlord's territory and a small kitchenette for the tenants, where simple meals could be prepared. And this pleasure was worth - 75 UAH. per person (in March). In the high season - supposedly 100. Very even budget. Dinner could be ordered by the hostess from the menu, the leaf with which lay in the dining room.
We were hired to take us to the mountain by a man in a Niva, whose phone number was given to us by the landlady. For some reason, the owner did not do this, apparently he was saving the car. And the road is there - do not bring, Lord! They bombed it back in the Second World War, and left it like that. We were charged 50 UAH for transportation to Bukovel. for the car in one direction, and 20 of them took up the extreme ascent to the house. They were brought either to the 1st or to the 5th lift, as we say.
Well, what can I say about the Bukovel resort? Of course, everything is civilized, modern. It’s just that after the Caucasus, these hillocks about 1 km high, proudly called mountains, were unusual for me. Only on the horizon were Goverla and Petros visible, remotely resembling them, although they also have a height of just over 2 km. But with the weather at that time we got lucky. Despite the assurances of our friends that we won’t see the sun there, and therefore taking sunscreen with us is nonsense, all the days were sunny, and our faces were tanned, like Siamese cats (or pugs), and a friend with her son in general managed to get burned.
The lifts are convenient in terms of the fact that you can pass without taking the ski pass out of your pocket; in the Elbrus region and in Georgia, every time you had to pull it out and insert it into the slot at the turnstile. And everything would be fine, but my relationship with the lifts did not work out. On the very first day, having not briskly driven away from the chair after disembarkation, I earned a seat on the back of my head, exactly just below the helmet. Okay, survived. The next misunderstanding occurred a couple of days later during landing. The flags had already begun to close, the darling slipped through, and I hesitated, and, nevertheless, squeezing through, somehow caught on and crashed. Contrary to expectations, no one turned off the cable car, the young man in the booth slowed down, and I, lying down, see chairs approaching me. It was quite difficult to get up in skis, I see that I won’t have time to do this and I flatten myself on the ground so that the chairs don’t hit me. It had to be seen! Oil painting! From the category - if you want to live, you won’t get so upset yet. Shame! Then they stopped the cable car and helped me up. Partly, of course, it’s my own fault, I had to wait for the next chair, and not climb where I don’t need to, but the workers, I think, should be quicker. Okay, I survived this time. And the last incident occurred when disembarking from a chair. The ski toe caught on something, and I crashed very unsuccessfully, twisting my knee badly. Again, it didn’t work out quickly, again no one turned off the cable car, the next chairs with skiers were already approaching from behind. Somehow I was pulled aside. In short, I express my “fe” to the cable car workers. Luckily it was the end of the day and we were on our way home. The knee really hurt, and if it happened in the morning, the day would be lost. Somehow I went downstairs. At home, she first applied ice to her knee, and at night she put salt wrapped in a rag. The measures taken, in principle, helped, but I couldn’t squat deeply, and for a couple of days after that I didn’t even approach the black slopes.
In general, of course, with the safety of riding here is lousy. There are a lot of idiots who barely got on their skis, rushing to the black slopes. And a sort of, so to speak, skier flies, in a straight line, on straight legs. And God forbid to be in his way - he will not be able to slow down or go around. The consequences are predictable. Having seen enough of such beauties, I looked back ten times before starting to move. In theory, a special patrol would have to take away their ski passes, but I didn’t notice if this system works.
But they do the tracks, they spend it on their conscience. We always arrived at the very opening, in order to have time to ride along the "velveteen" several times. The people, for the most part, have not yet woken up, the tracks are empty, beauty! But by dinnertime, everything turns into a mess, and the people are decent. And this is in the low season. What's going on here at the top? Scary to imagine. By the way, about lunch. Despite the abundance of cafes, the prices there are beyond our means and are simply amazing. For example, a glass of empty mushroom soup - 25 UAH. For the same price, the hostess prepared for us such decent portions of real yushka with an abundance of porcini mushrooms. And it looked like it was made from a bouillon cube. Again, some acquaintances suggested that under the second lift near the cafe there is a free samovar with herbal tea. Such a cool samovar, it seems, is old and two-bucket. The tea in it was surprisingly tasty and even sweet. There were also disposable cups. This is where we grazed daily with our sandwiches. The free gull, apparently, was a marketing ploy of a nearby cafe, but, apparently, unsuccessful, since it was no longer there the next season. It would be better if prices were lowered.
At that time, we got friends - Mom, don't worry. A friend, an avid skier in her youth, for some reason did not go to the mountains for a long time, and her son learned to ride in the city. Believe it or not, we also have our own ski slope. A few years ago, several enthusiasts of this business invested in this rather risky venture. It’s risky because we rarely get snow, and if it does, it’s a crazy wind blowing, and it’s uncomfortable to ride. There is even a snowcat and a couple of guns, but what's the use of them if there is no frost? In general, the shareholders have not recouped the costs yet. So, this couple finally reached the mountains and rode now to complete swelling. And we, being tied to them by transport (it’s quite expensive to travel separately), respectively, also rolled to death. The guy still strove to stay for night skiing, but this is already too much! But how much happiness it was to come home and finally take off your ski boots! Yes, be glad that the arms and legs are intact. And drink, finally, a bottle of beer! And then eat the mistress of the mushroom soup! At such moments, you feel especially keenly that there is happiness (it cannot but eat).
And so all ten days.
Overall, we were satisfied with the trip. So we have not yet had a budget vacation - 3000 UAH each. per person with the road. So we decided to do it again next year. Again after March 8, but they chose a different route - by Lviv train to the fine mist Ternopil, and then by minibus to Polyanytsya. There are a lot of corresponding transfer offers on the Internet. The distance from Ternopil to Polyanytsya seems to be 250 kilometers, but we did not take into account one factor - the road was similarly bombed there. I have not seen such holes yet, so we overcame them for about 5 hours. Fellow travelers from our mikrik intended to live in Yablunitsa, so at first we brought them, and then returned back to Polyanytsya through Bukovel. There, the pan oligarch built a separate road for himself, but he does not care about the rest. And the weather didn't work out this time. There was a small, nasty rain. Passing by the lifts, we felt sorry for the poor wet skiers. We were not going to ride that day, because it was already noon, and the next day, according to the forecast, the sun was promised.
The hosts were happy to see us. This time there was only one friend with us, who settled alone in a room and paid not for a room, but for a bed. The price, by the way, was the same. The third room was still empty. Instead of a jeep, the owner already had a Niva-Chevrolet and this time he drove us to the mountain himself. Things didn't seem to go very well. Having settled down, we went to look for a rental to take a helmet for me, since I did not manage to snatch the red cap this year. Helmet rental cost me 20 UAH/day. A trifle, but unpleasant - 200 hryvnia down the drain.
The morning greeted us with rain. But no one, of course, did not sit at home. And who is easy now? So we rode in the rain. And even the helmet no longer annoyed me - you can’t imagine a better headdress for such weather. Wet to the underpants. Well, if only it was wet from above, so also the seats of the chairs, too. Brr! Partially helped cognac. But the ass from him did not become dry. Many found a way out for themselves - riding in raincoats. The picture is pretty creepy. A sort of horror flying on the wings of the night. But they were probably dry and comfortable. And we are handsome, we will dress this shame! It is also inconvenient to ride with podzhopniks. One man, with whom they accidentally talked on the lift, it turns out, he decided to make money on it. Invented a new design of this protective device. It was cut out of a thinner material than usual, according to the size of the buttocks, and stuffed into the pants. This happiness cost 50 UAH. According to him, wet-assed skiers scattered with a bang. We were somehow skeptical about this know-how, but they took the inventor's phone number.
The next day it rained again. Well, what are you going to do? My men were even ripe for diapers, they called the inventor, but the required sizes were not available. So we wet our asses further. But everything comes to an end, and so does the rain. It was replaced by heavy snow that lasted for several days. I talked on the lift with a guy who arrived by bus from Kyiv. They had to push the bus and they were several hours late. Then the roads were completely closed. Hotels began to actively offer their guests to stay and promised good discounts. And we have to leave in a couple of days, so we just enjoyed the fresh snow, hoping that the roads would be cleared by our departure. On the eve of departure, the snow stopped, the sun came out, but then - a new surprise - a frost of minus 15. An hour is sometimes not easier! But what beauty is around - the yolki are all in snow caps, everything sparkles in the sun!
In the evening they called the driver of the minibus, he said that you need to leave early, the road is terrible. But we still went skating, at least for a couple of hours. And what do you think? Here the law of meanness clearly worked! The time “h” has come, but the turnstile does not work - the snowcat has not yet cleaned the track, 15 minutes of precious time have been stolen. Further more. Having driven off a couple of times along my favorite 5H highway, I enter a huge queue. It turned out that the five broke down altogether, and when they do it is unknown. I had to take skis on the hump and go to another lift. And the men remained to ride on the yoke. Having managed to move out once on all 16 and on 8, she returned back. Five have already been repaired. But there is no time left. How I did not want to leave, such weather was - just a song. But we still had to get to Ternopil. We got there safely, although we saw several overturned trucks along the way. The driver was very safe, we arrived at least an hour before the train departed and cuckooed at the station. But it's better than missing the train. We returned home, and then it began. That snow that was before, it was flowers! Well, I won't tell you, everyone remembers the end of March 2013. Thank God we made it through
