Starting in early June, we dreamt of photos in lovely dresses against the backdrop of fantastic, lavender-strewn mountains.
Awe-inspiring purple valleys with the sea in the background. But every day it’s either the heat, or the exhaustion, or shish-kebab, or work. The trip was being postponed even as the heat grew. “Are we going?” — “Tomorrow”. For a month.
But is the lavender going anywhere? It’s been blooming fiercely for the whole month of June. I remember it was like that last year too. And two years ago.
This year’s June turned out to be a very warm one.
One can go swimming for hours, and the air is such that one can spend evenings in the garden in shorts.
Still not too many people, but I’m already afraid of a tidal wave due to the newly opened bridge, and I really believe that that in spite of everything the season will be like it was last year, without the crazy influx which frightens me.
Artists at every step, a crowd of moms with kids, and cherries and strawberries everywhere.
And of course our cherry plum tree and the neighbors’ cherry tree, from which we collected a couple of pails already.
Catch a little Gurzuf in June.
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During the summer, the sky is nearly always blue. It’s difficult to take a photo to make it look beautiful. It’s blue and that’s that.
But the fall fills it with clouds which layer themselves all over.
I don’t like an empty sky.
And I don’t like the summer in Crimea.
I love the fall, when everyone leaves and yearning begins.
The view on Gurzuf from Ayu-Dag.
Gurzuf was painted by Korovin, Shishkin, and Ayvazovskiy.
It’s artists’ Mecca. Even today the old town is full of artists, painting the city, mountains, and the sea. Cypress trees, fig trees, red roofs at one’s feet, balconies, cobblestoned narrow alleys.
They say that Gurzuf renovation plans include its waterfront and parts of the old Gurzuf. I haven’t seen the plan, only heard of it from those who’ve seen it. They want to take down part of the old Gurzuf, along the Chekhov Street. And want to remodel the waterfront.
My grandfather, Lev Knipper and his whole family including his aunt Olga Leonardovna Knipper-Chekhova and the writer’s daughter Maria Pavlovna Chekhova, have lived in this part of the town almost without a break. Many famous people lived and live there still. The place exudes history. These are most beautiful places, old and full of character.
There is an unusual place in Gurzuf, on Chekhov’s Street.
There used to be a faucet there from which anyone could get water. There were many such “fountains” all over this old town. Even in the ’90s they were all over. Then these spots were covered over with concrete and the valves were shut off. Only their pedestals remain.
A mirror appeared on one of them, with bread next to it.
Crimea in autumn can vary. One day there is a strong wind blowing, with trees bending down along the roads. Storms waves beat the rocks, the air is crisp and clear, and there are far fewer people though it is still the tourist season.
Another day, the sun can be blazing so much so that it seems it’s still summer.
It seems this is the best time for these spots.
Today it’s cooler, though the sea remains warm.
I’m sitting in the garden, wrapped in a blanket, and am catching the neighbor’s Vai Vai.
I recently brought acquaintances to my favorite beach in Gurzuf. Wild beach, of course.
The visitors looked at the rocks and boulders blocking the access to the sea and looked at me quizzically: “So, where’s the upside?”
I did not expect this question, so I mumbled something about beauty.
My verbal arsenal did not contain anything capable of explaining the love for wild Crimea.
This peninsula is the site of one sacred place which also has no “upsides.
Maybe it’s good that it doesn’t.
Don’t go there.
Listen, this is too much already.
In response to my posts about the massive crowds of people in Crimea, I was inundated by a whole slew of “evidence” from who knows who purporting to show there are no tourists in Crimea. “Crimean banderites” are rubbing their hands in Schadenfreude. Bad weather, photos of empty beaches at closed resort beaches, proving the absence of tourists.
Whom are you trying to convince?
Today I encountered aspersions being cast on Crimea by someone who’s visited it.
“Tickets are expensive, transportation horrible. Yes, there’s nature, and mountains, and the sea. But the infrastructure! Next year, only Turkey!”
That really hit a nerve, and I still haven’t gotten over it.
Dear me, you still don’t get it, do you? Crimea is not Turkey, or Spain.
Crimea is…Crimea. And it’s good because it’s Crimea and not something else.
If your idea of vacation is stuffing yourself with food until others have to carry you, you need to go somewhere else.
Crimea is not like that.
Crimea is wonderful because it’s wild. It will remain wonderful as long as it stays that way.
Please, don’t pave it over with asphalt!
It doesn’t need high-rises, thousands of shawarma stands and identical motels.
May it retain its sense of freedom.
Laspi, Cape Aya, the alleys of Simeiz and Gurzuf. It is unbelievably diverse–you can find anything you want there. It’s diverse, but wild! And it’s good as long as it stays that way.
Now, point by point.
The view from Bear Mountain onto Artek, Gurzuf, with Yalta in the background.
There was a public meeting last weekend in Yalta concerning Artek’s beaches and lands.
This is a very complicated situation.
Gurzuf’s inhabitants want to keep the beach which Artek wants to use for yet another youth camp.
The conflict is over the legal status of this sizable and important patch of coastal land.
View on the Artek camp from the Lenin monument square