Russian Journal 2013 - Day 5
Day 5 - Taxi Sir?
We start today's entry with a Vladimir fashion update. The man about town himself, the pensioner who refuses to slow down, the brain that is constantly ticking over ideas and opportunities, the talker and charmer himself, the man who has an answer for everything, the silver haired fox from Moscow was today wearing a close fitting pair of pea green nylon shorts with a sleeveless dark green top, sandals and to finish the look off his El Capitaino hat. This thrown together formation of styles and textures will be available from all leading branches of Primark.
As i write this i'm lying in bed. It's late and its been a long day. Before I close my glimpses (see Star Trek Voyager Episode Nemesis) lets recap the days events...
We woke to another scorchingly hot day. Breakfast was swift and then to the beach. Our taxi was imminently due but Vladimir insisted on going to buy Max an ice cream. You can guess what happened. The taxi arrived and we ended up waiting several embarrassing minutes while Vladimir was selecting either a double choc chip or a Strawberry Swirl?
Eventually Vladimir arrived, climbed in the car and climbed our again. He'd forgotten something. Another five minute wait and he emerged. By this time the taxi driver was non to pleased.
We drove to the beach and alighted the taxi. I'm not much of a strong swimmer but I've been getting along ok in the sea, in fact it's very enjoyable. Again we received turned heads and double takes from Russians who have had time to bronze themselves.
Back to the apartment and our lunch was awaiting. Meat and veg soup (Russians usually make it fairly watery) but it was fine. That was followed by potatoes and veg hot pot (without the pot).
After a short rest in which me and Max watched the 2008 Doctor Who Christmas Special, we again hot footed it for the beach. Vladimir Had realised at this point that his mobile phone was missing. Another taxi was called and we again found ourselves at the beach. A quick scout around, and no phone was found. Where, prey, had Vlads phone gone?
Meanwhile, in a taxi cab uptown. The driver, who just happened to be this mornings unhappy recipient of Vlad's happy go lucky personality found the said phone. Well, he must have giggled, and chuckled to himself at this twist if fate (I'm sure there's an ice cream called that!). He held in his hands the phone of that annoying man who had cost him a couple of fares by wasting his time. I can see the sinister grin on his face now and the shaking clenched fist of his victory.
Meanwhile we finish up at the beach and call another taxi (our 43rd overall) to take us back home...
...sorry fell asleep. A short rest and yet another taxi is called. Vladimir talks to the taxi company and discovers that the taxi driver has his mobile and are willing to return it. For a small fee!
Now, I would have thought that that driver would take full advantage of this situation and ask for a fairly substantial reward for the phone. But no, his price was only £3. I was a bit disappointed with this to be honest. But really if you sold the phone it would probably fetch less.
So, we are waiting for the taxi to take us to the cable car ride (Vladimir was recommended by a fellow sun worshiper at the beach that we go there), one taxi turns up, and then, another taxi turns up. The first taxi is taking us, the second has Vladimir's phone. Vladimir has to pay a ransom to get it back. By doing so he delays the other taxi, as he has to step inside the apartment to get some change. Are you following this?
The whole farce could have been inserted into The Benny Hill Show, and it wouldn't have been out of place. In fact Vladimir does have more than a passing resemblance to Mr Hill. Which is scary.
So, after all that confusion what we really need is some clarity. Clarity and forward thinking. We take the taxi to the cable car ride. On the way we go past the cable car ride. Eh? Where's this taxi taking us then?
Turns out it's taking us to the Safari Park. (Which was also recommended by the same lady on the beach - boy does she have a lot to answer for). Vladimir wants to check the prices for the park. It's £20 each and we all agree that it's a waste if time. We only want the cable car. Which we passed five minutes ago!
We hot foot it across the road bridge. As always Vladimir is a hundred metres in front. He's found a bus which goes back the way we came. He shouts to us to quickly come. Me and Max are lagging behind. Max is far to busy with another ice cream that Vlad has bestowed upon him. I pick him up and scarper down the stars to the waiting bus. We squeeze on and off we go. After five minutes the bus stops. It's very apparent that this is not an official stop, as when we alight, it's into a waiting ditch. I'm sure Vladimir is behind this. He's told the driver to stop purposefully so that the moody English man can take a dive.
We cross a busy road and walk the remainder of the way to the cable car ride. At last we arrive. All this could have been avoided by a little forward planning. How about the Internet for instance?
The cable car ride is worth the wait though and is pretty spectacular. I thought they would be closed cars but instead they are like ski lifts. It's pretty hairy stuff. Glad it's not too windy. We wait in line and small Treadwell and large Treadwell take one car while Ira and Vlad take the other. The ride takes about ten minutes. On the way up we are serenaded by music blasting out of the speaker system. Something sounding very much like Richard Clayderman. I think the idea is that this will lull us into a feeling of serenity and safety while we are dangling hundreds of feet in the air. But it's effect only riles me. I mean, surely there could be better choices of music than this. How about Stairway To Heavon, Learning To Fly, or Free falling (well perhaps not that one). I decide to have words with the operator at the top and offer my services. But then I realise the operator will in fact be a big Russian male with biceps the size of small houses. I decide against the idea.
When we reach the top the views are amazing. You can see the entire horse shoe shaped bay of Gelendzhik and the Black Sea beyond that. Children might like to take the opportunity of having their photo taken while sitting on a cunningly placed stuffed ram! I kid you not.
Also at the top is a fare. Which has children's rides, food and free entertainment in the form of dancing children's costumed characters and competitions. While we were there one character, a female with large fake bosoms picked an unsuspecting playmate from the crowd (a young teenager) and started dancing rather suggestively with him. Eventually she ripped of her top to reveal her breasts (though not the real ones) and continued the dance.
After small Treadwell had had popcorn and ice cream and a go on the bouncy castle, and the big wheel, it was getting dark and things were about to turn very nasty.
What had been a joyous happy place began to turn into a scene from a Hitchcock movie as the crescent moon rose over the peaks of Gelenchick, so it became a matter of escaping from mosqueto mountain.
They were relentless, blood seeking missiles aiming directly for the jugular. We joined a line for the cable car ride down to safety. The whole queue were doing the mosquito two step. A free style dance incorporating the slap of the legs and involuntary arm spasm. We all looked like a very bad 80's body popping dance troupe who had come last place in the Worst Body Popping World Championships.
Eventually we were on our way down. Descending into the darkness of dusk. It was really quite serene and relaxing. And our musical accompaniment for the decent? Well of course, it was the theme tune to the x-files! Doh, what else!
Another taxi was hastily called (our 78th) and we called into a nearby pizza place to refresh our stomachs. By this point it was way past young Treadwells's bedtime. Another taxi ride and we were delivered home, our eyes heavy with the sea air and contentment of another day well spent.
We start today's entry with a Vladimir fashion update. The man about town himself, the pensioner who refuses to slow down, the brain that is constantly ticking over ideas and opportunities, the talker and charmer himself, the man who has an answer for everything, the silver haired fox from Moscow was today wearing a close fitting pair of pea green nylon shorts with a sleeveless dark green top, sandals and to finish the look off his El Capitaino hat. This thrown together formation of styles and textures will be available from all leading branches of Primark.
As i write this i'm lying in bed. It's late and its been a long day. Before I close my glimpses (see Star Trek Voyager Episode Nemesis) lets recap the days events...
We woke to another scorchingly hot day. Breakfast was swift and then to the beach. Our taxi was imminently due but Vladimir insisted on going to buy Max an ice cream. You can guess what happened. The taxi arrived and we ended up waiting several embarrassing minutes while Vladimir was selecting either a double choc chip or a Strawberry Swirl?
Eventually Vladimir arrived, climbed in the car and climbed our again. He'd forgotten something. Another five minute wait and he emerged. By this time the taxi driver was non to pleased.
We drove to the beach and alighted the taxi. I'm not much of a strong swimmer but I've been getting along ok in the sea, in fact it's very enjoyable. Again we received turned heads and double takes from Russians who have had time to bronze themselves.
Back to the apartment and our lunch was awaiting. Meat and veg soup (Russians usually make it fairly watery) but it was fine. That was followed by potatoes and veg hot pot (without the pot).
After a short rest in which me and Max watched the 2008 Doctor Who Christmas Special, we again hot footed it for the beach. Vladimir Had realised at this point that his mobile phone was missing. Another taxi was called and we again found ourselves at the beach. A quick scout around, and no phone was found. Where, prey, had Vlads phone gone?
Meanwhile, in a taxi cab uptown. The driver, who just happened to be this mornings unhappy recipient of Vlad's happy go lucky personality found the said phone. Well, he must have giggled, and chuckled to himself at this twist if fate (I'm sure there's an ice cream called that!). He held in his hands the phone of that annoying man who had cost him a couple of fares by wasting his time. I can see the sinister grin on his face now and the shaking clenched fist of his victory.
Meanwhile we finish up at the beach and call another taxi (our 43rd overall) to take us back home...
...sorry fell asleep. A short rest and yet another taxi is called. Vladimir talks to the taxi company and discovers that the taxi driver has his mobile and are willing to return it. For a small fee!
Now, I would have thought that that driver would take full advantage of this situation and ask for a fairly substantial reward for the phone. But no, his price was only £3. I was a bit disappointed with this to be honest. But really if you sold the phone it would probably fetch less.
So, we are waiting for the taxi to take us to the cable car ride (Vladimir was recommended by a fellow sun worshiper at the beach that we go there), one taxi turns up, and then, another taxi turns up. The first taxi is taking us, the second has Vladimir's phone. Vladimir has to pay a ransom to get it back. By doing so he delays the other taxi, as he has to step inside the apartment to get some change. Are you following this?
The whole farce could have been inserted into The Benny Hill Show, and it wouldn't have been out of place. In fact Vladimir does have more than a passing resemblance to Mr Hill. Which is scary.
So, after all that confusion what we really need is some clarity. Clarity and forward thinking. We take the taxi to the cable car ride. On the way we go past the cable car ride. Eh? Where's this taxi taking us then?
Turns out it's taking us to the Safari Park. (Which was also recommended by the same lady on the beach - boy does she have a lot to answer for). Vladimir wants to check the prices for the park. It's £20 each and we all agree that it's a waste if time. We only want the cable car. Which we passed five minutes ago!
We hot foot it across the road bridge. As always Vladimir is a hundred metres in front. He's found a bus which goes back the way we came. He shouts to us to quickly come. Me and Max are lagging behind. Max is far to busy with another ice cream that Vlad has bestowed upon him. I pick him up and scarper down the stars to the waiting bus. We squeeze on and off we go. After five minutes the bus stops. It's very apparent that this is not an official stop, as when we alight, it's into a waiting ditch. I'm sure Vladimir is behind this. He's told the driver to stop purposefully so that the moody English man can take a dive.
We cross a busy road and walk the remainder of the way to the cable car ride. At last we arrive. All this could have been avoided by a little forward planning. How about the Internet for instance?
The cable car ride is worth the wait though and is pretty spectacular. I thought they would be closed cars but instead they are like ski lifts. It's pretty hairy stuff. Glad it's not too windy. We wait in line and small Treadwell and large Treadwell take one car while Ira and Vlad take the other. The ride takes about ten minutes. On the way up we are serenaded by music blasting out of the speaker system. Something sounding very much like Richard Clayderman. I think the idea is that this will lull us into a feeling of serenity and safety while we are dangling hundreds of feet in the air. But it's effect only riles me. I mean, surely there could be better choices of music than this. How about Stairway To Heavon, Learning To Fly, or Free falling (well perhaps not that one). I decide to have words with the operator at the top and offer my services. But then I realise the operator will in fact be a big Russian male with biceps the size of small houses. I decide against the idea.
When we reach the top the views are amazing. You can see the entire horse shoe shaped bay of Gelendzhik and the Black Sea beyond that. Children might like to take the opportunity of having their photo taken while sitting on a cunningly placed stuffed ram! I kid you not.
Also at the top is a fare. Which has children's rides, food and free entertainment in the form of dancing children's costumed characters and competitions. While we were there one character, a female with large fake bosoms picked an unsuspecting playmate from the crowd (a young teenager) and started dancing rather suggestively with him. Eventually she ripped of her top to reveal her breasts (though not the real ones) and continued the dance.
After small Treadwell had had popcorn and ice cream and a go on the bouncy castle, and the big wheel, it was getting dark and things were about to turn very nasty.
What had been a joyous happy place began to turn into a scene from a Hitchcock movie as the crescent moon rose over the peaks of Gelenchick, so it became a matter of escaping from mosqueto mountain.
They were relentless, blood seeking missiles aiming directly for the jugular. We joined a line for the cable car ride down to safety. The whole queue were doing the mosquito two step. A free style dance incorporating the slap of the legs and involuntary arm spasm. We all looked like a very bad 80's body popping dance troupe who had come last place in the Worst Body Popping World Championships.
Eventually we were on our way down. Descending into the darkness of dusk. It was really quite serene and relaxing. And our musical accompaniment for the decent? Well of course, it was the theme tune to the x-files! Doh, what else!
Another taxi was hastily called (our 78th) and we called into a nearby pizza place to refresh our stomachs. By this point it was way past young Treadwells's bedtime. Another taxi ride and we were delivered home, our eyes heavy with the sea air and contentment of another day well spent.
posted by Nic Treadwell at 8:07 pm
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