Prussia in Peru

Kirill Sergeich (instructor), as always, was at his best - after his routes in any particular country, you can safely put an end to it. In the sense that there is no point in returning there anymore. Unless you forgot your passport or your wife there (inadvertently).

Endurance is the most important thing in our turbulent times. At the same time, it is important not only in interethnic and political upheavals, even in everyday routine you cannot do without it. You also need to be able to post “photos” from last year’s vacation in accordance with this restraint. Take an example from me, a filigree guardian of “slowdown” - almost a year has passed since the last full-length vacation, even such mastodons and noble slow-pokes in terms of reports as Kirill Sergeich have given birth to videos, and I have just released two or three photos and am gradually adding texts and photos. In general, the year is the best time for a seasoned and well-established vacation post.

Especially in the context of the fact that with the current dollar exchange rate, my next real vacation will be around the same time when my long-suffering woman gets out of the crisis - maybe in a year, maybe two, or maybe never...
But let’s not talk about sad things - here is the first opus from a multi-page story about my Peruvian journey in the company of 10 brave pioneers. Although what kind of “daring” is there - as before, everything is quite simple - two transfers, a night in a London hostel and a couple of thousand dollars - and now you are in the desired place. Sun, air, height, our best friends! Let's go!

Part one, jungle road

2. Early the next morning we moved to the protected area - the Balestas Islands. The goal is banal - to see penguins and seals, to breathe air, to appreciate the perspective and space, and, on occasion, to rush through the Quiet to your small homeland. Swim. Like the hero of Tsyganov from "Space as a Premonition". At the transfer point, such beauty awaited us - peace, smoothness, tranquility and... surfers. Hey God, I don't understand where they found the waves here - in the bay, not a single small, small, significant bar was caught. But the view is calming.

3. When leaving the bay, the waves become a little larger, as do a variety of cormorants and pelicans. Not a single unnecessary object in the frame, even if you put it on your wallpaper...

4. Kirill Sergeich, as always, was at his best - after his routes in any particular country, you can safely put an end to it. In the sense that there is no point in returning there anymore. Unless you forgot your passport or your wife there (inadvertently). His Peruvian route, like others, was full of variety, the only thing it did not include was a visit to the legendary Nazca with large-scale drawings. But we managed to meet one on the way to Balestas. We were delighted. A zealous guardian of Peruvian self-identity and a wise historiophile of these places, San Vasilich, suggested that this particular candelabra was left by none other than a visiting patrol from the planet Grabelki-8. It was on shovels (ordinary shovels) that humanoids once rode down the hill, but now we see and don’t understand - why would we draw something like that in the desert?

5. After a half-hour walk we reached lonely islands in the ocean. I don’t know what the penguin thought when he saw five boats with a cloud of tourists in orange lifeguards. Let’s imagine that this penguin is none other than Alexander Vasilyev, singing to us “Welcome to this end of the earth, where everyone is our own.” In the end, we will be right - behind the penguin there is nothing but 10 thousand kilometers of water and air, and only there, in the very, very distance, looms the spirit of the homeland - Vladivostok.

6. Here I don’t even know what to add, except the obvious: this is a stone sticking out of the water in the form of a pyramid. The water is blue. The sky is clear. Birds are flying. We are on the ocean and have two more weeks of vacation ahead.

7. The next morning we had an early morning transfer with one transfer to the jungle area in Porto Maldonado. The feeling is ambiguous - you board a plane in low clouds, strong humid wind and +14 Celsius. An hour later you are already at an altitude of 2.5 km, where the sun is scorching wildly and the invigorating temperature of +5 makes your teeth hurt, another hour and the plane with a hellish howl dives into the real jungle - where it is wildly hot, humid, and fu-fu-fu. Again, like in our native Vladivostok in July:) Let's return to the frame - the Amazon is in front of you. And in the sky just to the right is a Piranha from a cloud, preparing to grab a worm. It just happened, I didn’t even think about it when I took the photo.

8. We went into the jungle on purpose - to stir up the mud, feel the living life and feed the malarial mosquitoes. It was for this reason that two days before the trip we stubbornly ate all sorts of Lariams, drank liters of water and read the manuals, waiting for fateful glitches. Of everything described, there was only dirt, heat and wild humidity. There were mosquitoes too, and, what’s most interesting, they even bit us a couple of times. What's the point? In general, the uninhabited jungle looks like this - dirt, dead wood, grass, shadow and tourists confused by all this...

9. We drove and drove, and finally arrived. Wikipedia suggests that the area around Porto Maldonado is “the flora and fauna capital of the world.” According to the price list, from this abundance they showed us - Ara parrots (they let us look through binoculars), caimains (they let us hold them), tarantulas (they let us pet them), a sloth (they assured us that he was SOMEWHERE ON A TREE)... and something else swam and splashed, but I didn’t remember, because I ate... I generally eat often, and not only at work. Overall...we ate the whole track again:)

9. This photo is worthy of being printed on the scale of a banner over Tverskaya/Khreschatyk. As soon as this happens, peace will descend into all minds, all nonsense and arrogance will sink into oblivion. I'm a dreamer, I admit. In general, I don’t require any copyrights - copy, put on wallpaper, look and enjoy every pixel. I don’t feel sorry for something beautiful for you:)

10. A day later we flew to Cusco again. From there, a 4-hour drive to a city with the unpronounceable name Otolai-something, two hours by train, another hour by bus and...here it is. Now I can say, “yes, I was there.” A brief excursion into history allows us to draw a certain parallel between Machu Picchu and, for example, our St. Petersburg. They built some kind of absurdity, for cosmic purposes, in the middle of nowhere, settled in, exalted it, and... abandoned it. Only it was not possible to abandon St. Petersburg - people there are still suffering from gray skies, snow and absurd rulers. Pikcha was a little more lucky - she was almost swallowed up by the jungle. But wise archaeologists stumbled upon it and began to study. I have not yet finished reading the book written as a result of the analysis, but the construction itself is good. But to live here, without food, water and the Internet - excuse me...

11. But in this photograph I already doubted whether I was there. Oozing unreality.

12. A few words about the local residents. A sexually mature male Peruvian aborigine is not very different from the average Russian (Ukrainian) man in the street - he is always unshaven, constantly hungry, and at every opportunity he begins to giggle. This copy came to us at the London airport, so it was not possible to leave it at home. According to rumors, he is currently working somewhere on television. They love the South American flavor there. You should have heard him pronounce the eternal word “borcsch!” You can listen!

13. I don’t know who it is exactly. Because one of them is an alpaca, and one is a llama. A beast without much charisma, moderately curious and adoring the Polish cracker "Tuc". I stroked him, he sniffed me and tried to make contact. In general, greetings to you from the Picchi Lamas!

14. Bydyms...and here we are again in Cusco. We were completely lucky: we found ourselves in a week of festivities, when each of the city formations, be it a company, a school or a cycling club, organizes a demonstration performance for the population. Everyone gathers in the square, enjoying the views and the colorful movement in unison. Flags hanging around them. Deputy Milonov is nothing more than a symbol of the city, nothing more.

15. One of the popular Peruvian trends is street acting. If the Soviet guardian of easy money in the 80s had to dodge and look for a monkey somewhere in the Sochi beach area in order to pester vacationers for “that legendary photo,” then in South America this action took on an original formation. All you have to do is splash around in a silver tank and learn to portray the pre-terminal stage of paralysis in order to feed yourself and (probably) the producer of the silver tank... In reality, it turned out to be not so scary - for some ridiculous money we were presented with a business card of a “performance agency”, and allowed to take a photo with ourselves for a long and fond memory. Remember the native with Machu Picchu a couple of frames above - so he’s wearing a helmet, yeah. PS Stas (Nikulin), if you are reading these lines, then rejoice that you were born in Russia. I saw this character's piggy bank. In Peru you wouldn’t even be able to feed your cat with this craft:)

16. Another night trip by bus and here we are in Titicaca. This lovely body of water with a name that is not very euphonious to the Russian ear is, by the way, one of the largest alpine lakes in the world. Digging into geodata brought me to several interesting points that are worth mentioning. This lake is located at an altitude of 3812 meters above sea level, just below Mont Blanc and above Fuji. A study of the topography of the Andes, the fauna and chemical composition of the lake and other bodies of water showed that the lake was once 3,750 meters lower than it is now, and was generally a sea bay. In short, this is a full-fledged washing remake at an altitude twice as high as the peak of my native Khibiny. Inspires everyone - from the views to the vomiting from the change in altitude:)

17. It is also the highest navigable lake in the world. Its name consists of words from the Indian language: kaka - rock and titi - puma, and not what you thought. The puma, by the way, is a sacred animal of the local Quechua tribe. Yes, yes, yes - you heard right. Anyone who has ever been to Decathlon and carries their fleeces, backpacks and boots will be pleasantly surprised that the Qechua logos on all their travel gear are not an invention of French perverts, but simply the people of the southern outskirts of Peru.

18. Well, this is not the most interesting thing. When leaving Puno (a coastal town) by boat, an interesting surprise awaits you: wild reed thickets. These are the kind of peat floats on which...living people float. This people is called Uru and they inhabit as many as 42 islands. Life there is quite complete - we saw a wedding, cooking and all other everyday life. Considering the format of our visit, I can assume that a significant part of the residents are only engaged in meeting and seeing off tourists, trying to sell them a local hand-made flavor...

19. And this is our guide, a simple Peruvian guy with the beautiful name Jose Emil Joshua Addon Ibn El Aziz-Garcia. He accompanied us throughout the trip that day - he cheered, danced and talked passionately about his local life. The sadness in his eyes and the pointing finger are associated with a great country, which I will tell you about a little later. And this is not Peru:)

20. National Peruvian image.

21. National Russian image against the background of Peruvian. Those who can identify Petruchio in 20 pixels can safely say that this is a national Ukrainian image against the background of a Peruvian one, and a Russian one against the background of a Ukrainian one. Be that as it may, changing the places of the terms does not change the sum. We are all together and we are all glad that we are together.

22. So here are a few words about that very desired country that our guide pointed out. If you look into the distance for a long time, you can see hills and a couple of snowfields. This is nothing more than the other side of Titicaca and, at the same time, another state. The same Bolivia that was promised. According to the vague reasoning of our guide, this small but proud country contains a drop of the passionately desired spirit for every Peruvian and Peruvian woman. I just can’t think of any more logical explanation for the fact that they pronounce the word “Bolivia” with a breath and pressing their heads into their shoulders:) Although studying some facts lifts the veil of secrecy over such an attitude. For example: Bolovia is one of the main suppliers of cocaine to the world trade market for this rubbish. And in general, despite the presence of untold wealth (and it is), the country remains one of the poorest and least developed countries in Latin America. And here you are telling me about the national idea...

23. In the photo - Coastal ripples. Despite the rather warm weather, I didn’t feel like swimming at all. Due to the altitude, the water temperature in the middle of the lake is practically constant and is 10-12 °C, but near the shores the lake often freezes at night. After walking around the island and breathing in the local color, we will move back to civilization.

24. Having finished with Titicaca and having wandered around Puno at night, we took a bus to Arequipa. By the way, bus traffic in Peru is very developed. By purchasing a ticket you can even go to Ecuador and Argentina. Buses are usually two-deckers - the lower "business" with large comfortable seats and the upper "cattle carrier" for mere mortals. In total, during this trip we rode on three (?) buses and everywhere it was pleasant, cozy, even on the second floor. On long-distance flights, everything is like that of cultural airlines - the stewards insistently ask you to fasten your seatbelts, feed you relatively tasty food and give you free Wi-Fi at a damn indecent speed (I mean sad...) In general, you will be in Peru (without Anya), go for it!

25. Apart from the traditional “interregional” movements, the upcoming 500-kilometer journey did not foreshadow any surprises, with the exception of one - the altimeter needle promised to rest at an altitude of 4 kilometers. At the moment of this very peace, we were lying on the second floor of the bus in a half-smeared state. Some tried to read, some (like me) transcribed something, but most struggled with the lack of oxygen and pressure.

26. I have already posted various formations of these photographs more than once on all possible social networks, so I will not go deeper and summarize - it’s worth going to Peru at least for this road. The landscapes are worthy of a full ride here, and better on two wheels. Yes, by the way, during my two and a half weeks in Peru I did not see a single normal motorcycle there, what is surprising - to have such fantastic roads and not have the only correct means of enjoying them? In general, they have room to grow. In the meantime, you can stop near this factory in the desert and film your own version of Star Wars.

That's all for now, I take my leave. I leave this bright bush to you as a reward for having finished reading and persevering. There will be some fresh stuff, but not soon. The era awaits my daily achievements and I promise to fit a post on this blog into my mercilessly bursting schedule. It will be for you!

Arequipa bale

We were passing through Arequipa, in the very, very south of Peru. The town is pleasantly sunny, and the fact that we were in it for at most 8 hours added spice to our acquaintance. Look at the map - it’s almost on the Pacific coast. Lima is 1000 km to the north, and one of the local beauties is the El Misti volcano. In general, what is not a resort? Numerous guidebooks claim that the city is the second largest after Lima, and also the culinary capital.
In the historical center of the city (carefully protected by UNESCO), there are many buildings of the Spanish colonial era, but I couldn’t really select anything from the photographs of the city to show you. I was lucky only with photographic material in the Santa Catalina monastery.

Perhaps throughout the entire trip I have never experienced such a thrill from the riot of color and its combinations. In past centuries, the monastery shone with decoration, but now there are three to five dominant color dominants on the walls, emptiness and in some places even dirt. But even these combinations systematically bring delight and bliss to the eye yearning for deep experiences: terracotta, azure, greenery, rare inclusions of the natural texture of stone and vegetation, when combined in a jewelry way, could bring an unaccustomed eye to a color orgasm.

The monastery was built at the turn of the 16th-17th centuries on the ruins of an ancient Incan nunnery, destroyed by the largest volcanic eruption in the history of South America. According to the customs and traditions of those times, they tried to “register” the second daughter into the monastery - they gave her a substantial dowry, so the percentage of random people for these walls was minimal. They lived without contact with the outside world, in cells. Here, for example.

The format of admission to the institution also presupposed a certain standard of living. According to the descriptions of contemporaries, the young nuns did not have to forget about the comfort they had been accustomed to since childhood, nor about entertainment. The abbess regularly invited interesting people and musicians from the era to the monastery, and according to rumors, there were even dance parties held there. Reading such descriptions, I am perplexed by some discrepancy between the image of a nun and a cheerful life. This is where you had to invite the venerable writer Diderot to work on his “The Nun,” otherwise you read it and it’s terrifying. And here, as it were, not everything is so bad.

We reach the end of the corridor and the eye gives the brain some kind of completely European picture - here, obviously, is the very place where Hemingway comprehended and put his alcoholic opuses to paper. It would be more accurate if Hemingway had been here:)

They claim that in their hourly thoughts about God, the novices in the monastery were served by up to four black slaves. In general, I support the initiative - when you think about eternity, spending time on everyday vanity is completely out of place. If I were in their place and did a strictly defined set of things, I would probably easily give up sweets, overcome Internet addiction, start going to bed on time and do exercises in the morning. Why suddenly? Yes, just like that. Because the walls are red. Great occasion.

Perhaps we can put an end to the biography of this place. Now the streets are empty and essentially a tourist attraction. There are nuns in the monastery, but they live in seclusion in another part of the town, inaccessible to visitors. You wander between the rooms, marvel at the openwork, catch the vibes of harmony and suddenly you realize that the world is also looking at you and even admiring you. Through these pigeons, for example. PS I don’t smoke at all, in case you suddenly thought something was wrong.

In some places on the territory there is a strong hint of civilization - we came across a cafe with wonderful apple strudels, but the all-seeing eye of the god Zhra took me away from sweets in the name of meat delicacies. They won't be in the frame, but believe me. And the color, just look at the color!

It was this photo that became the inspiration for writing the post - wandering through the footage I realized that everything in it was beautiful. And you have a combination of colors, vectors of long shadows, a rough structure, and moire in the center of the frame from a cheap Chinese polarizer for $3. Extravaganza!

That's probably all. Thoughts have dried up, there are no enthusiastic epithets left to describe reality. We survived, put it in the treasury of emotions and forgot. After we did all this, we climbed the hill and looked at the El-Misti volcano adjacent to the monastery.

As a PS - a frame for true ornithologists. At least one of my friends in the "cosy" is one, so let this photo please his experienced eye.

Part two, mountain walking.

To the delight of my few readers, desperately suffering from sights but not words, the second part of my Peruvian epic will be much less verbose. I will hit you in the heart with slopes, hills, colorful screensavers for desktops and other “cute” nature.
So: in a certain kingdom, in a distant state, there lived a dunce boy. I read books about distant countries and high mountains, and this same boy desperately wanted to get to these very “distant countries” and climb the “high mountains”. The boy, of course, was told that not everything was so rosy and that he had to walk for a long, long time with a heavy backpack, by the way, not always down, and sometimes he would even have to vomit. But they told it calmly, without accents, with feigned importance, like this: “Everyone endures, and you will endure!” I didn’t have enough brain to extract these very accents from the outline of the speeches, I broke down the first time, the second time and now, for the third time. Everything is not enough.
But you’re a little luckier, because “sitting in front of a monitor” means you can’t drag yourself around with a backpack. Freeze, my faithful reader, in anticipation, especially for you I have stocked up with a dozen beautiful views, correctly photoshopped horizons, a real Spaniard Petruchio with a cigarette that is not politically correct these days, a couple of six-thousanders, a horse and a boar. In order not to be branded as a branch of “In the Animal World”, in one of the frames Kirill Sergeich will look at you from behind a pebble with an edifying: “Come to us in Peru!” So I’ll tell you - go, you won’t regret it! And don’t think about vomiting. Will you be lucky?

1. Here it is, the very beginning of the track. The smell of manure is not so sultry yet, the sweat is not flowing in streams and the midges have not bitten your ankles until they bleed. I love the starts of hiking trips: everyone is cheerful and laughing, Snickers are rustling merrily in their pockets, the vacation is just approaching the equator - life is sweet, not burdensome with edification and bestows with anticipation.

2. Literally a 15-minute walk from our first overnight stop. Lovely views, don't you think? In this pond we took a shower before going to bed and even brushed our teeth. This process is important for two reasons: firstly, the water is pure ice (don’t forget where it flows from), on the other hand, upstream there were quite a few campsites for tourists who, like us, took a shower and brushed their teeth in this river. I’m not even talking about the horses and donkeys that roam around the area. In general, you guessed correctly, we are immortals. But it worked out:)

3. On the second day we finally reached the source of our soul. No wonder I was afraid.

4. A little further along the path, a most wonderful combination was discovered - snow, forest, desert and mountains. Maybe in the summer there is a turbulent river flowing here, but in the harsh snowy February (and we were in Peru at that time) everything was quite fun here - even pull on a swimsuit. Yes, ahead of us is a white peak with the modest Peruvian name Rinrihirka. It's only 5.8k in height.

5. Oh dear Petruchio! Where are you now? In which Ukrainian steppes do you ride on a bay horse, accomplishing your good and eternal with a sword?:))) In general, of all the photographs of tourists, this worthy husband came out the most photogenic. The rest, forgive me, are neither here nor there: some ate, some slept, some picked their noses. In fact, there is nothing special to say about the person hanging near the stone; Roman Sosnovsky praised all sorts of qualities. They say you can ruin a person with praise, but I suspect that Kostyan doesn’t give a fuck, because he’s as hard as a rock, yeah.

6. Almost the entire trek we were surrounded by similar views, forests, copses, rivers, and distant snowfields. The view is calming. But some people live their whole lives contemplating such angles. I think we shouldn’t envy him - after all, we have a warm office with lamps, canteen food, a crooked back, myopia and many other amenities.

7. The last pass from the loose powder before the treasured lake. An hour and a half walk and we are at the top. The top in this case is the lower boundary before the snow, nothing more.

8. Not everyone has reached this level of four. We completely forgot someone along the way, but our friend Andryusha was left to guard our things among the mangroves. The cherubic yak attracts the natives with its curls. The place, by the way, is quite pleasant, if only the day was rolling towards evening, the shadow was approaching and the chill was setting in. Having arrived at the place, Petruchio took out a sweet supply - vitamins. He gave it to everyone, shook hands, said that he was incredibly glad to find himself in this place in our company and all that. Everyone was touched. Then we gathered our strength, took a couple of photos, performed a forced toilet, and, accompanied by light laughter well generated by the lack of oxygen, hastily moved down.

9. The sponsor of this photo is the Buruzhin company Baskin Robbins. The photo shows a life-size model of the “Crème Brule with pecans and milk chocolate pieces” ice cream. For me, this is how they make a rare chemical crap that causes addiction, if not after the first, then after the second time. Somehow, many years ago, I fell victim to their sweet weapons, and to this day I see myself everywhere...

10. One of my taciturn colleagues reproached with the opportunity that I was not in a single photo in my magazine. I break the stereotype and make an exception - he is right in front of you. Although with such a face and in my attire, anyone can be passed off as “me”:) An open mouth and a hand on a sign are not a tribute to the canons of posing. Try to climb to this height and breathe normally, I’ll look at you:) I’ll smooth out your emotions - don’t be lazy, click on this link - a panorama will open exactly 50 meters from this point and you will understand that a lot can be forgiven for the nature around you for such a frame.

11. The promised conic. Sad and more appropriate than ever. There was also a rider, but when he saw the lens, he disappeared behind the boulders. Not everyone can withstand the shine of Canon L:)

12. Here you can simply remain silent, as Sergei Babkin sang: “Why do we need words.”

13. Experienced readers who were with me (and without me) in the Himalayas, when viewing this photograph, probably had a question: what is the actual difference between the Andes and the Himalayas, because if you put next to this photograph my own, but taken four years ago, a lot of questions arise about the meaning of a transatlantic flight with two transfers and undergoing an additional package torment, in the form of the London Youth Hostel and a couple of other similar pearls. Well, the same view! And our leader-leader, Kirill Sergeich, meanwhile is puzzled by the search for food...

14. Ready to sign a contract for the supply of this (and many others) frame for the new Windows screensaver. Always open to suggestions, please contact us.

15. Child of the earth. Again, keeping in mind my Nepalese experiences, I will make a modest assumption that people of the same latitudes, even spread across diametrically opposite points of the planet, are “slightly united” in their format.

16. Two weeks after the publication of this photo there was no comment on it. Because about dead tasty, it’s either good or not at all. And you all already know what good can be in a tasty pig:)

17. After the pigs and dusty children, we climbed onto the minibus and moved to one of the last points of our route - the lake with the beautiful name “Laguna 69”. The transfer took place by vehicle, according to a simple scheme - from 2 km we went up to 5 km and immediately dropped back to 2 km. On the map there is a peak point where we stopped to take photos. Well, such a cute-looking wader at an altitude of 4.8 km above sea level.

18. While I was breathing like a downtrodden sparrow and moving in small dashes, trying, whenever possible, to settle down in a reclining position, nature outside the window was riotous with views. But I was so bad that I even bypassed this special pedestal for taking selfies. Yes, of course, this is just the official version. I bypassed it not at all because I don’t like taking selfies, but because someone pooped there:)

19. The road to the last night in the mountains. I once complained on social networks that after a month or two there is no trace left of the trip and, in fact, the entire vacation comes down to one such photograph, containing the quintessence of the entire route. Yes, here she is. An experienced eye, when looking at this panel, is immediately drawn into a veil of cuteness. Yeah?:)

20. For good measure, and for the sake of order - a bonus for you, with a slide, keep it on!

London

Just recently I was passing through (from Peru) in London. I analyzed my feelings at the moment of arrival and enthusiastically caught myself thinking that I was going to the city of Nick Cave and Sherlock Holmes. After a hasty farewell to the city and taking off towards home, I realized that I had made a mistake in my expectations and had arrived at the refuge of Guimplen and Oliver Twist. No, of course, I walked along the Thames and visited a lot of interesting places, moreover, I did it at an atypical time for a tourist - late at night. But at this time the city is too gloomy: the gothic overhangs, and coupled with the crowds of drunken youth, homeless people and Arabs prancing on brand new Bavarian handicrafts, in some places it is even repulsive. But overall, it’s a citadel of Eurolife, yeah.

2. A Moscow citizen who sets foot on this land for the first time will not see anything very new: the city is like a city. Roads, business centers, asphalt, stone. I saw the editorial office of the unforgettable Financial Times, looked at the local Aurora, appreciated the scale of the Ferris wheel - all along the classic tourist route.

3. The approach began from the southern bank of the Thames. Directories suggest that this very “southern” has been a classic viper for centuries - rabble, drunks, brothels. "Otozh!" - I thought, “this is exactly what I came here for, let’s move!” But the centuries have not passed in vain - now this hot place is a popular example of splendor: a completely empty embankment, hundreds of cafes and pubs with the illumination turned on. But not a single living soul inside. Complete and unconditional emptiness

4. But the tourist center at night is replete with neon - in addition to the obscene appearance of the establishment, the pain, bliss and melancholy of Mr. Varlamov are rolling around it with hundreds of ladybugs. Although it is not the latest, beloved type (and not a tram at all), it goes and carries! In general, of course, everything has been thought out regarding the organization of transport links in the city - signs, signs, exits, QR cards. I’m too lazy to even describe it - this extravaganza has been enthusiastically chewed on hundreds of times in the domestic blogosphere. Convenient, and nothing more to add.

5. Well, in general, that’s all. In pitch darkness and loneliness we reached the house where “Sherlock” was filmed. If you watched it, you will be annoyed - this is not Baker Street, if you haven’t watched it, then maybe it’s not worth wasting your time? In general, the photo is just a protocol shot from everyday life, taken with wild movements, and for Don Kurbas and Natusik, who went through it with me, it is a photo reminder of one of our shared little secrets. Sapienti sat!

Denis Merenkov, Moscow.