Rus Articles Journal

Anapa - the children`s resort. To aunts and uncles the entrance is prohibited? Part 1

Everything is journalism - it is not a profession. It is the diagnosis. After holiday instead of just placing the photo knee-deep in the Black Sea with the signature “Seychelles - 2011“ on “Schoolmates“, you begin to write article - the report. Which began to compose on the way to warm edges.

the Infection on a tariff

In the resort town of Anapa I was somehow time journey - we with the wife were forced to spend the night on the way to the Kabardian there. Strong was engraved in the memory that Kobzon`s photo hangs on an honor roll at them. The hostess of our temporary bungalow who pulled out us on bus station by extremely sweet voice promised “apartments for two in the center“, naturally, with all possible conveniences.

In reality we beheld a long stocky barrack in a kitchen garden of this strange woman where dwellings were poked as if in a couchette car. Our number reminded me of an insulator from the movie “Escape from the Shawshank“ - almost all space of a floor was occupied by two hospital koyechka divided by narrow pass, and the window - a loophole under the ceiling deprived of us hope for flight.

Despite this short and not too positive acquaintance, two years later we decided to get acquainted with the city closer, and having captured with ourselves children. Anapa is associated at many not only with strong wine with an inconvenient cover, but also with the children`s resort...

The unknown vezukha began directly with the exit moment from the house. The taxi driver bringing us to the Saratov station externally looked very decently. But illusion was scattered when he began to talk to someone from the relatives by the cell phone.

- Yes, here I go with the last bit of strength, - he complained in a tube after warm greetings.

We with the spouse strained. To stick out in a passing column thanks to the exhausted taxi driver did not smile to us at all.

- Temperature under forty, I cough, just I cannot! - continued to please us bombed. - Came to work that money for the weekend to mow down.

At this moment we began to estimate whether there will be enough for us air gathered before landing in the car until the end of a trip. The imagination already began to draw the marvelous southern nights spent over temperaturyashchy children.

- Moreover and furunkulez this tortured me! - the taxi driver resolutely interrupted our experiences with a breath delay.

Heat under forty, cough, furuncles - what else it is necessary to the person for rest in Anapa? But our traveling adventures only began with it.

At the station of mother and bride also enough sober soldiers said goodbye to the whole squadron young. At the sight of a camouflage I already for certain knew that all this dashing one hundred will go by our car. When by order of the commander they moved exactly to our train, I is very convex imagined an apocalyptic picture of simultaneous removal of two hundred tarpaulin boots in stuffy to a reserved seat. .

But everything left not as I represented. Soldiers came into the next car, and we were not left without payment for this unexpected good luck. In the brand new train No. 318 “Saratov-Novorossiysk“ we managed to find the one and only old car. Of course, without conditioner and as it became clear later, even without boiled water. In attempts to give itself some tea from the titan conductors gallantly sent us to the next car.

And nothing that in our compartment the rack of stray dogs from Vladivostok, seemingly, traveled, and the atmosphere in this strange section car successfully competed with a microwave. But we go to the South...

Hope and wait

30 hours through impregnated with dense smells of hereditary dog breeders and escalating gratitude to the railway administration of Later, we drove up to Novorossiysk. The hero town met us by optimistical heavy rain and continuous clouds.

We fondly expected to place the exhausted bodies in a comfortable taxi, but all cars near the local railway station safely drowned. Vodila of these “submarines“ philosophically let out a tobacco smoke in a crack of “windows“, watching rough streams on streets near the station. It was necessary to sit down in deep-water transport - the city trolleybus. The morning trip with children and bags in the filled trolleybus across the flooded Novorossiysk was unforgettable...

We found housing in advance - on the Internet, having seen and having cast away hundreds of options. Fortunately, the hostess of our future dwelling did not deceive and met us on bus station of Anapa.

Our dwelling really was a cottage, and not a barrack on the waste ground at all, and it could not but please. And nothing that the promised conditioner dried out to the sizes of the fan which besides did not work. And at all trifles that the TV in our room did not show anything - long ago it is proved that viewing of the zombie-box damages health. But we in the yard had garden swing, violently blossoming roses and a brazier. And neighbors in a cottage were the most good-natured tourists from Samara, but not silnopyyushchy kickboxers.

Having had a bite quick, we went to look on declared in the advertizing “the sea in 15 minutes of walking“.

No, do not think, deception any was not. We really could see the long-awaited sea in fifteen minutes. However, at the same time felt the cats walking on nine-storey building eaves - rough waves hit into a steep under us, and descent to this magnificence nearby was not expected.

The transaction did not take place...

In two hours after our arrival to the resort town of Anapa of the juvenile son of our owners the cyclist brought down. As a result the boy received the decent cone on a nape. Having remembered everything the events (the furunkulezny taxi driver, the dog car, the drowned taxi) which happened to us over the last two days, we began to expect delegation of residents of Anapa with rich gifts and a huge request to us to leave quicker.

But residents - the resort were inattentive to an event row, and in vain. Next day the unprecedented storm, similar which was not remembered in the summer even by old residents burst. Wind, as well as is necessary on the Black Sea, blew exactly three days. It became clear that here accurate regularity is traced - strong wind blows either three, or six, or nine days. Neither it is more, nor it is less. Meteorologists here of a laf - also do not need no supervision over the Chukchi who follows firewood.

Clouds rushed on the sky as in the accelerated movie, waves furiously fought to rocks, and we rejoiced to the fact that though we stay at home, but in the south...