Rus Articles Journal

Vistula Spit - the place out of time. Part 2

the Beginning

All our trip for some reason (so stars rose!) occurred on a reduced rate. Sky Express (as I regret that this cool airline came to an end!) offered the stock on which return tickets cost us for two 7 thousand rubles - practically at the taxi price in / from the airport. However, the departure was late, inconvenient, into place we arrived by the night. However keep to the point this flight was cancelled and we were replaced to morning flight so, we flew to convenient time on a tariff inconvenient and still managed to drive across all Kaliningrad region with the friends who met us - it was healthy.

“Gold anchor“ occupied someone in the studio reserved by us (and, both for the night after an arrival, and for the night before a departure) therefore both of us time at the price of the smallest studio were lodged in huge three-room luxury. However, thanks to it in the room where we slept, there was no TV (since. it was placed in the next drawing room), to splash bare feet at night on luxury open spaces to the room with “conveniences“ was far, and to search for the belongings scattered in the evening in passion on all rooms of luxury on morning was long!. Konstantin about us, in general, forgot therefore the autolodge reserved by us was occupied, and it was necessary to lodge us to it at the trailer price in more expensive room in the house. In the room there was a fireplace, the huge hall with conveniences was applied to the room - in which there was still a room which at that time was empty. On a fireplace, by the way, we sank down in vain - it was necessary to burn down it only in the presence of the owner, and it, understand, absolutely not so interestingly.

Across the Kaliningrad region we traveled about during a rain. Zelenogradsk and Svetlogorsk, Amber and Pioneer. Waves, pines, sea, sky. Wind-driven generators. Embankments. And a yanta - and - and - ar. The rain came to an end as soon as we landed on the embankment of Baltiysk.


in the morning the ferry, we came across the boatman offering the exclusive express at the ferry price - transportation through the passage on an inflatable small boat with the motor. The attraction seemed amusing, and here we already slip from the high mooring in the boat. I was afraid in the middle at once huge the passage in this fragile skorlupka be mercilessly - but the crossing took only a few seconds!

I here, having thrown things in the uninhabited room - about us forgot, did not wait for us, and now hastily prepare for us the room - we go on a water edge afar, in anywhere. The Baltic Sea blue - blue. The wind penetrating. Cold. On a waterway there are ships - barges, bulk carriers, liners, a huge sailing vessel with one thousand sails, still barges. Waves with a roar rush on sand, roll pebble, with hissing crawl away back in the sea. Seagulls rise in splashes of waves, vspugnuty our approach. Sun. Beauty. Happiness...

Beaches of Vistula Spit are absolutely deserted

, even near the settlement. Locals come to the beach only after especially strong heavy sea - to collect the amber brought by a storm. And here it is few visitors. Who is - those hide from wind behind coastal dunes, having spread on hot sand.

At the entrance to Strait of Baltiysk - fort ruins. Same is also on that party - in Baltiysk. The passage as a great value, protected for a long time. Far the narrow strip of a breakwater goes to the sea. At its beginning the viewing tower forgotten by all towers. Old. In the evenings we get to watch a decline at it. From our lodge to a tower on the bank of a minute three, we manage to reach here with is even hotter the shpikachka fried in the yard on a brazier for dinner. Waves fight about fort walls. Occur among seagulls huge, one of them for some reason does not fly - lives in a lake where there was a serf ditch earlier.

On the untouched desert beach, towards to wind, counter to the waves running on the coast we go afar, to the horizon, towards Poland - there where it is hardly distinguishable an eye, but well visible to a telescope, the viewing tower towers in a coastal strip. GPS promises to it distance about 7 kilometers. Near a tower there is a thrown guard house, an outpost - reminiscence of the military who left from here. Whether left? I do not decide to get on a tower - very unreliably looks. I lie on untouched sand, I look at the husband clambering up a short flight of stairs, I am anxious - the construction would not collapse! Here it already on the top, surveys vicinities in a telescope...

As always, being in direct a bliza from bodies, my husband begins to make jokes with them - remembers army and youth. I am rather afraid of these provocations. I am not able to communicate with fighters, in different we with them the planes exist, we do not understand each other. I am afraid, it will come to no good... Here and now some heterogeneity, such “heart“ which is looked through on a satellite map - to it - that became object of its close attention and our expedition after a tower goes. According to the plan we have to, having passed through the wood, to cross the Spit and to come to the coast of the gulf. And already then, having seen enough of the gulf, of swans in it, and it is possible, and having bathed on lee side of the Braid, coming back to the settlement on the abandoned road - it is looked through on the card - to leave somewhere to the region of “heart“ and to find it on the district, being guided by hints of GPS. It is the theory. And in practice we already know that from the settlement here on the road you will not pass - it is blocked by a barrier. Check point. Military zone. Pass is closed. All go from here. However we do not go from the settlement, we are selected “with the back“.

Gulf and truth very beautiful! What always struck me on Kurshskaya and on Vistula Spit is incredibly sharp contrast between natural zones. It is impossible to believe that from the sandy coast of a raging sea these coast of a boundless smooth surface of the gulf overgrown with red currant separate only several hundreds of meters. Having bathed and having gorged on red transparent berries, we come to the road. After a while life from which we for today already weaned is ahead guessed. Well, here and fighters. The first us stamping from the alleged opponent (from Poland!), the officer wives shirking in carriages of babies noticed. The alarm is given promptly, and already on bushes fighters lie down around, the ring of a siege is narrowed... I, understanding that it is better to intercept an initiative right at the beginning, loudly I address the neighbor: “Dear! And how to us to leave to the sea?“ . It is necessary to notice that we got to a part arrangement in the most improper for this purpose a look. I have not only no documents, but also anything, except a dressing gown, the camera and a handheld transceiver. And the husband, on the contrary, has a lot of everyone - he has a handheld transceiver too, and he has a telescope, GPS and a satellite map with “heart“ in phone, and at it are a beard, as at the spy and dark glasses. Moreover, keen on searches of confidential object, he does not pay attention to the situation which is heated in the eyes and interrupts me: “Why to the sea? Here to a heart it is necessary to us - it already closely!“. Caused on dismantling with “civilians in an arrangement of part such - that, bearing an active service and carrying out such - that a fighting task“ (listening to all this, we strain - probably, we ALREADY learned much from the official report of the tell-tale superfluous about this part!) the orderly officer grows dark: probably, his hopes for some fast permission of a situation are not equaled.

- it is illogical

... - the fellow filters, listening to my explanations as we got here, having come on the beach of the sea from the settlement. - Here on the gulf, you speak, went and why there to go - that, on the gulf? To look, you speak... And what to watch there - that? The gulf it is also the gulf and there some more cities the waste merges.

Eh, not romantic you, tell-tale! I suspect that the question and what it we and on the seashore here seven kilometers trudged when the sea - and in the settlement the sea will follow further. The husband it seems, having experienced, at last, gravity of the moment, hid the espionage equipment on pockets. I try to distract the ofitserik which is tensely wrinkling a forehead a question: “Yes let it pass, with the gulf, and tell better how to us to the sea to leave?“ . Here and itself shuddered.

- it is illogical

.... - will tell now. - You said that you from the sea go, and now again to the sea ask? What it?

But here the husband, at last, who understood an artful design of a satellite map promptly puts in our conversation!

- Aha, - he says. - To the sea! We here on this path will go - and waves a hand in the direction of a footpath, zmeyashcheysya somewhere aside close “heart“, through couple of tens meters from us the path is partitioned by some gate, but there is practically no fence around this gate - it is possible to bypass.

Ofitserik even shudders.

- Not, there now only not on it! There we have it that if there all - brings you, then to pretend that you were not here, it will not turn out any more - all should strain and to write one million pieces of paper!

On it also left - there is a wish to write pieces of paper to nobody. We move ahead to the sea in the way to round of confidential object specified by fighters. Only the husband continuously mows with an eye for bushes, looking out for the ears of “heart“ which are sticking out from there, and everything strives to lose the specified course.

the First time after a trip at the sea the strongest impression remained not a sea surf, but a heart-rending crash of grasshoppers and singing of birds on the thrown runway of airfield. Such loud. So emphasizing absolute silence around. And the flowers which are making the way through concrete with pieces of amber, vplavlenny in a runway... And sun. And the sky with clouds over a concrete road arrow among the sea-buckthorn wood.

Already now, having decided - to write down the impressions of a trip, let though with such delay, I read on the Internet of the word of the commander of the Baltic Fleet vice-the admiral Victor Chirkov:“ It must be kept in mind that on Vistula Spit for placement of hydroplanes the airfield of the Soviet era will also be reconstructed, and it is information deserving attention“. And what now Vistula Spit? Who was not in time, that was late?

Olga (Anykey) Fokht