Russian Journal 2013 - Day 9
Day 9 - Whisky & Baked Beans.
We woke early this morning and attached our sea legs, as today we were going out into the wide blue yonder.
I was slightly nervous at the thought of getting on a boat with Vladimir as the last time we were on a boat, things didn't turn out too well. We were in Scotland on the Isle of Skye taking a boat trip to look at the black mountains. When we arrived at the port Vlad and my wife went climbing on some rocks while I took the walk to the mountains. When I came back the tide had come in preventing them both from descending safely and the boat had to rescue them. Hence my concern this time around.
Vladimir had checked out the times of the sailings the evening before but still felt the need to roam around the sea front checking out routes and prices.
Eventually the deed was settled and we boarded a boat along with a hundred or so others for a mystery location. The boat travelled out through the bay of Gelendzhik and turned left up the coast of the Black Sea. Our destination being a stretch of coast not far from Praskoveyevka (see map).
On the way we passed the lighthouse, the creamy cliffs that look like they should be part of a gigantic meringue, and a strange rock outcrop called "The Sail" that rises up out of the sea and is wafer thin with a little tiny whole in it.
The journey took us about 35mins. On arrival at the beach near Praskoveyevka it was immediately apparent
that the quality of the sea water was superior to any other we'd swam in. The water here was completely clean, clear and warm. You could see the huge smoothed shaped stones of the sea bed quite clearly from the surface.
The beach itself although again stoney was, compared to the main sandy beach of Gelendzhik, clean and uncluttered. I think there is a way to get to this beach by road but it seems the boat trips bring in the main majority of beach dwellers.
We had an hour and a half to make the most of the beach here, before the return trip. So we quickly got in the water. What a joy to swim in such beautiful sea. I've never had the chance to experience this kind of sea before. I felt positively healthy just getting into it.
After a quick dip Vladimir wondered off in search of some information about buses between Gelendzhik and Praskoveyevka, he arrived back and started going on about re-locating to this place from Gelendzhik? He'd seen some apartments were available here and had a mad idea that it would be better for us to move.
With only three full days left of our time here I really didn't see any point in moving now but Vladimir was his usual insistent self. Ira went to view the said apartments with him, after I refused.
Fifteen minutes later they return. I ask how it went. Ira told me it was not worth mentioning. I ask what kind of state the apartments were in, she described them in one word, "apocalyptic".
A couple of days ago at the beach Vladimir chatted up a couple of ladies in their senior years. He's a bit of a charmer with the ladies is old Vlad. Anyway by some form of coincidence or something, these three ladies turned up on the same boat trip. I think there was a bit of forward planning here by old Vlad. I think he had ulterior motives.
We spent what little time we had left there by swimming and soon the boat was on the horizon and docked up on the beach ready for boarding.
On returning to Gelendzhik we headed back to our apartment for a rest. One thing about staying in such a warm humid place to take into account is how much it zaps your energy. So regular rests are a necessity.
We have a spot of lunch and retire for a rest. Vladimir heads out to the shops while we watch Doctor Who on the iPad. I'd pre loaded the iPad with DW's before our trip so we'd have some entertainment during downtime.
Vladimir returned armed with a bottle of Russian Whisky and a large bottle of baked beans? I wonder where this could be leading and come to only one conclusion. Anglo-Russian bonding time is here again.
Yes, the baked beans - soaked in that yummy tomato sauce represent Britain in all its mad eccentric goodness while the Ruskie Whisky represents, well, erm, the ability of Russians to consume large amounts of alcohol.
The bonding ritual, began with Vladimir arranging the seating, and then the standard beckoning, "N-i-c, please!"
I knew what was coming. I prepared my mind and body for it. Made a silent prayer to the god of binge drinking and baked beans and took my place at the table. Vladimir poured the entire contents if the large bottle of beans into a single plate, and prepped to spoons. Thank god. I thought we were going to share a spoon!
A huge hill of beans rose before me. I gulped. Vladimir poured to portions of Whisky into two glasses. I'd say the measure of which equalled perhaps a quadruple. Beans and Whisky. A brand new experience. We chinked glasses and I downed the Whisky, took a couple of gulps of Pepsi and then a mouthful of cold beans. Mmmmm. Strangely it seemed to work.
The bonding had begun. As I consumed more whisky my hunger for more beans grew and grew. We threw a couple of pieces of bread into the mix. Beans on toast, minus the toast. We had another couple of double whisky's, it was like we were old friends sharing our last meal.
By the time we reached the final baked bean we were both a lot closer.
As Ira had come down with the dreaded sickness that me and Vlad had had, she stopped home while we took Max to the beach for more swimming fun.
In actual fact Vladimir fell asleep on the beach and I swam with Max. I suppose Russians just can't handle their whisky.
We woke early this morning and attached our sea legs, as today we were going out into the wide blue yonder.
I was slightly nervous at the thought of getting on a boat with Vladimir as the last time we were on a boat, things didn't turn out too well. We were in Scotland on the Isle of Skye taking a boat trip to look at the black mountains. When we arrived at the port Vlad and my wife went climbing on some rocks while I took the walk to the mountains. When I came back the tide had come in preventing them both from descending safely and the boat had to rescue them. Hence my concern this time around.
Vladimir had checked out the times of the sailings the evening before but still felt the need to roam around the sea front checking out routes and prices.
Eventually the deed was settled and we boarded a boat along with a hundred or so others for a mystery location. The boat travelled out through the bay of Gelendzhik and turned left up the coast of the Black Sea. Our destination being a stretch of coast not far from Praskoveyevka (see map).
On the way we passed the lighthouse, the creamy cliffs that look like they should be part of a gigantic meringue, and a strange rock outcrop called "The Sail" that rises up out of the sea and is wafer thin with a little tiny whole in it.
The journey took us about 35mins. On arrival at the beach near Praskoveyevka it was immediately apparent
that the quality of the sea water was superior to any other we'd swam in. The water here was completely clean, clear and warm. You could see the huge smoothed shaped stones of the sea bed quite clearly from the surface.
The beach itself although again stoney was, compared to the main sandy beach of Gelendzhik, clean and uncluttered. I think there is a way to get to this beach by road but it seems the boat trips bring in the main majority of beach dwellers.
We had an hour and a half to make the most of the beach here, before the return trip. So we quickly got in the water. What a joy to swim in such beautiful sea. I've never had the chance to experience this kind of sea before. I felt positively healthy just getting into it.
After a quick dip Vladimir wondered off in search of some information about buses between Gelendzhik and Praskoveyevka, he arrived back and started going on about re-locating to this place from Gelendzhik? He'd seen some apartments were available here and had a mad idea that it would be better for us to move.
With only three full days left of our time here I really didn't see any point in moving now but Vladimir was his usual insistent self. Ira went to view the said apartments with him, after I refused.
Fifteen minutes later they return. I ask how it went. Ira told me it was not worth mentioning. I ask what kind of state the apartments were in, she described them in one word, "apocalyptic".
A couple of days ago at the beach Vladimir chatted up a couple of ladies in their senior years. He's a bit of a charmer with the ladies is old Vlad. Anyway by some form of coincidence or something, these three ladies turned up on the same boat trip. I think there was a bit of forward planning here by old Vlad. I think he had ulterior motives.
We spent what little time we had left there by swimming and soon the boat was on the horizon and docked up on the beach ready for boarding.
On returning to Gelendzhik we headed back to our apartment for a rest. One thing about staying in such a warm humid place to take into account is how much it zaps your energy. So regular rests are a necessity.
We have a spot of lunch and retire for a rest. Vladimir heads out to the shops while we watch Doctor Who on the iPad. I'd pre loaded the iPad with DW's before our trip so we'd have some entertainment during downtime.
Vladimir returned armed with a bottle of Russian Whisky and a large bottle of baked beans? I wonder where this could be leading and come to only one conclusion. Anglo-Russian bonding time is here again.
Yes, the baked beans - soaked in that yummy tomato sauce represent Britain in all its mad eccentric goodness while the Ruskie Whisky represents, well, erm, the ability of Russians to consume large amounts of alcohol.
The bonding ritual, began with Vladimir arranging the seating, and then the standard beckoning, "N-i-c, please!"
I knew what was coming. I prepared my mind and body for it. Made a silent prayer to the god of binge drinking and baked beans and took my place at the table. Vladimir poured the entire contents if the large bottle of beans into a single plate, and prepped to spoons. Thank god. I thought we were going to share a spoon!
A huge hill of beans rose before me. I gulped. Vladimir poured to portions of Whisky into two glasses. I'd say the measure of which equalled perhaps a quadruple. Beans and Whisky. A brand new experience. We chinked glasses and I downed the Whisky, took a couple of gulps of Pepsi and then a mouthful of cold beans. Mmmmm. Strangely it seemed to work.
The bonding had begun. As I consumed more whisky my hunger for more beans grew and grew. We threw a couple of pieces of bread into the mix. Beans on toast, minus the toast. We had another couple of double whisky's, it was like we were old friends sharing our last meal.
By the time we reached the final baked bean we were both a lot closer.
As Ira had come down with the dreaded sickness that me and Vlad had had, she stopped home while we took Max to the beach for more swimming fun.
In actual fact Vladimir fell asleep on the beach and I swam with Max. I suppose Russians just can't handle their whisky.
posted by Nic Treadwell at 6:02 pm
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