Journey to Grenlandia

Extreme overnight in a Quiet Bay

Day 23 (16.09.2004)

Travelled: 27 km
Just path: 3h
Pedal: 2H 10 min
CP.speed: 19 km/h
Air temperature: 27C

Over the swaying ripples of the water rises from the depths
Desert ridge lands: the ridges rocky ridges,
The black precipices, streams of red gravel —
The mournful unknown outside of the country.
M. Voloshin

Until the morning I never fell asleep.
Sat in front of the exit of the tent with the canopy and watched the sea.
Then started cooking Breakfast, giving the kids to sleep.
We sunbathed almost until lunch.
Rinat was still secretly shooting Nude women using your telephoto lens.
Don't know how ethical it is in General, but to publish these pictures of course I did not.

By 9 o'clock the sun warmed the air and the beach began to fill with people.
No moral force is in the realm of nudity we left and we met on the road.
We had to go through the whole long stretch of beach from beginning to end along the edge of the surf. There was no other way. The sand was more or less dense just by the water.

We walked about half an hour.
The legs and the wheels sank a little, but the whole move was quite normal.
If not, the picture to the left of us. I tried not to look, only occasionally beveling glance. Rinat did not hesitate to go all the time ,turning his head 90 degrees.
The trial ended when we came to a dirt road.
It could get in the Resort village at the foot of Karadag(the ancient name of the Lower Otuzy), or to go further in the direction of Shchebetovka and next to Koktebel.
We decided not to go. Why is this time and I did not insist.

After a short perevoshchikov our eyes opened Otuz valley with its vineyards.
It is the patrimony of the state farm-plant "Koktebel", known for its achievements in withIvanyi grapes, as well as fine vintage wines and cognacs. Central HOMESTEAD farm is the village of shchebetovka.
Settlement (historical name - Otuzy) renamed in honor of Lieutenant schebetova who gave their lives during the great Patriotic war for the sake of rescue of life of the inhabitants of Otuz.
Otuzy become Shchebetovka in 1945.
"Otuz" — on-Tatar "the thirty" — so many here were yards after the resettlement of Greeks in 1778

Generally in the Crimea, very many Soviet names, which are valleys, mountains, rivers and cities.
They were received after the war and deportation, apparently to erase the memory of Tatar names.
Now it seems to go in reverse.
Heard that Kuchma, who came to the Crimea in the autumn is welcomed. Gave the go-ahead so to speak.

Continue past the village on the highway moved to Koktebel.
By the way, too, bearing the name of Planerskoe in the Soviet Union.
It's hard to say what about the other renaming but the name of Koktebel ("Kok-Tepe-El," edge of blue tops) I like it definitely more:)

The road bends around Kara-Dag is an ancient volcano, active about 150 million years ago — an amazing natural monument, one of the most beautiful places on earth!
It is the only European part of the CIS volcano of Jurassic period, which preserved the external features of their origin. His age — 170-150 million years!

Its area is small—only 8.7 square kilometers, including the adjacent waters of the Black sea, the height of the Holy mountain, crowning the massif Central, 576 m
Coastal ridge drops off steeply to the sea fancy ridges and cliffs, between which are cozy, amazing beauty, the Cove Carnelian, predatory Edge .
Gloomy ridge of the Elm, which completes the group of mountain Kara-Dag in the West, was clearly visible from the beach Fox Bay. Among the peaks and precipices of the shore stand out of the cliff, the outlines of which supposedly guessed the king, the Queen, "chestwoode" towards the sea, to the Throne.
Behind them stood in a subservient bow to the entourage — the group of teeth of stone... At a known share of imagination you can imagine.

This unique geological formation with a variety of flora and fauna in 1979, declared a national nature reserve.
Before that there was relatively free access.
Under the onslaught of hordes of vacationers and tourists a unique nature began to die.
Was vytaplivaete of grass, broke down and burned the trees , even the stones were carried away.
More than ten years, this area was completely closed.
And nature is recovered, regenerated itself.
Now there are conducting paid tours under the management of scientists from the biological Station, located at the foot of the Elm.

Well, that and the famous Koktebel - once a place of Bohemians - writers, artists and actors.
Our cavalcade left on noisy quay.
It's all built up with cafes and entertainment establishments institutions.
Quite narrow and we were traveling at the speed of turtles, weaving between people.
And yet the perch I like more!

Near the house of Maximilian Voloshin we took pictures on the background of the fountain.

His name is linked to the whole history of the city of the last century.
I really like his poetry and, therefore, will briefly talk about this person.
Who are not interested skip this paragraph.

Distinguished poet and translator, a brilliant critic, fine artist Maximilian Alexandrovich Voloshin (Kiriyenko-Voloshin) was born on 28 may 1877 in Kiev in the family of a collegiate adviser.
Father, Alexander M. Kirienko-Voloshin led descended from the Cossacks. The ancestors of his mother, Helena Octoballoon, nee Glaser, was a Russified Germans. As he recalled the poet, he was "a product of mixed blood (German, Russian, Italian-Greek)".
In 1893, Maximilian's mother moved to the Crimea, in Koktebel (onCHP died when the boy was 4 years old). And since then his whole life and creative work - poetry and painting are inextricably linked with this place, no matter where he was in Russia or Europe.
In 1900, he was deported to Central Asia for participating in student strikes at the University of Moscow, where he decides to devote himself to literature and art, why settle abroad, "go West."
In 1903, the poet returned to Russia.
A versatile talent, kindness, wit and colorful appearance made Voloshin especially popular figure among the intellectuals of the "silver age". In "Koktebel by Voloshin" gathered many poets, philosophers, artists. He seriously engaged in painting (famous for his wonderful Crimean watercolors).
In 1909 Voloshin becomes the initiator and co-author of the loudest literary hoaxes in Russia: it is associated with the young poet Elizabeth Dmitrieva, where he coined the nickname "Cherubina de Gabriak".
This story is long stirred the whole literary Petersburg.

The rise and fall of the lame poet Cherubina de Gabriak

To the editor of the magazine "Apollo" on the Moika embankment was delivered in an envelope sealed with a wax seal.
In it the editor of Sergei Makovsky found poems that belonged to the mysterious Cherubina de Gabriak, and a cover letter in French.
The verses described the Catholic Spain of the time of the Inquisition, chivalry and war of the crusaders, the striking beauty of the poet, her aristocratic origins, fanatical Catholicism, mysticism, spiritual suffering, blatant sensuality and demonic pride.
Cherubina de Gabriak made such an impression on the editors that they believed in it and welcomed as a "new poet" and "poet of the future" that awaited Russian modernism.

Makovsky, which was considered in St. Petersburg arbiter of taste, was delighted and poems, and letters.
The next day Cherubion called Makovsky, and began a rapid correspondence a novel.
A selection of poems Cherubini was printed, and became the talk of the whole literary St. Petersburg: in Russian even do not write.
No one saw a beautiful Spanish girl, half Russian in origin, but could draw yourself a portrait of your dreams.
Mythical Cherubina fully consistent with the image of a woman-poet that yearned for the St. Petersburg Bohemia: Russian, beauty is definitely rich, that is seemingly happy, but at the same time unhappy.

In fact, Cherubini was mystically minded poetess Elizaveta Dmitrieva, teacher grammar school, studied Spanish medieval literature at the Sorbonne.
In life Dmitrieva was not beautiful, was lame from birth.
Maximilian Voloshin was her friend and had Dmitriyeva offered secretly this hoax, and became its co-author.

A good hoax ended sadly when Makovsky saw a real Cherubino-Dmitriev, he was stunned.
Cherubini was a woman that did not comply with exalted aesthetic expectations of the literary public.
And then suddenly the poetry, which enjoyed absolute success even in such demanding literary judges as I. Annenskii, suddenly lost value.

Deceived Makovsky wrote about the Present as about the terrible Chimera that stood before him is a beautiful woman, with whom he was in love.

To the frustration of another controversial incident.
Dmitrieva was the cause of the duel Gumilev and Voloshin, the last famous duel in the history of Russian literature.
Poets were shot from antique guns, of course, on the Black river, and 20 steps.
Fortunately, both missed. This was written in the Newspapers, on Voloshin and Gumilev amused all and Sundry.

Razoblachenie was a severe blow to the Present.
She broke up with literary circles and left poetry.

I - in andtalauma the link
In these cursed walls.
Blue, delicate veins
Struggling back into his pale hands.

I sorted the beads;
Heart like the mountain almond.
For binding grid
Smoky crystal is crying.

Even Ronsard sonnets
Not have cut me sadness.
All that said, the poets,
Know it by heart.

Darkness will not take away the sad
Sign of the cross.
And the disgraced Princess
Took even the jester

But her literary fate was not over.
Dmitrieva got married, I became interested in theosophy and antroposophy, and after a few years returned to poetry.
20 years wrote, along with Original plays for children's theatre, worked as a translator, met her future bibliography Arkhipova, who collected and published all of her work.
Shortly before his death, living in Tashkent, she has created another hoax - wrote a cycle of poems from the fictional person of the exiled Chinese poet Li Xiang zi.

The October revolution Voloshin accepts as a historical inevitability: the test sent to Russia.
The revolution and the civil war contributed to yet another transformation of the poet: pupil of the French masters turned his soul and thoughts to Russia. During the civil war, living in the Crimea, which often varied power, Voloshin has managed to be "above the fray", to save from death not "red" and "white", but simply – people.

House in Koktebel Voloshin turns to the house of writers and artists.
There were Maxim Gorky, Mikhail Bulgakov, Marina Tsvetaeva, Andrei Bely, Alexander green and many others.

The poet died of pneumonia in Koktebel on August 11, 1932.
Buried, at his own request, on the highest mountain in Koktebel Bay – the hill Kuchuk-Enishar.

Now the house of the poet dismantled for reconstruction.
For 100 years it was pretty rotten. I want to restore it completely.

Along the promenade reached to size.Zina of vinsovhoz "Koktebel".
Until the end of our journey was little and it's time to stock up on gifts for relatives.
In this shop there is a mini tasting room, where any jelousy can try wine before you buy.
Rinat Marat bought dessert Koktebel wines and old habits die hard, took brandy.

Then while the boys rested, I went to the nearby Internet cafe.
The relationship was disgusting. I was only able to see the weather. All the best for the speed of the Internet was in Yalta. In other places of the Crimea with the Internet a big problem.

Upon reaching the end of the quay and ran into the river the shores of which are overgrown with rushes.However it is rather a small stream.
A mosquito place. Up for the night as wanted tired companions, it would be masochism.
I insisted to go along the coast as possible in the direction of Ordzhonikidze.

Crossed the Creek on the Feodosia highway across the bridge and turning onto a dirt road went in the direction of Cape Chameleon, like reptile, drinking water from the sea.
And yet its color changes depending on the weather, lighting and time of year.

From the height of the high, steep Bank panorama Dead Bay, bounded on one side by the impressive Chameleon. The beach itself there is a narrow strip of rocky shore.
But the water! Pure and transparent greenish color.
All the rocks from a height clearly visible.
But to go down there and loaded the bikes would be problematic. A trail there leads not flat and not wide.

With a sigh, moved on. We waited a Quiet Bay.

Koktebel is deservedly called the birthplace of domestic gliding.
In 20-30 years, there was regularly gliding competitions.
It was here that the gliders up in the future academician, chief designer of the spacecraft Korolev, the aircraft designer Ilyushin, Antonov, Yakovlev. masteritsa your plywoodnye gliders, more like shelves, but these structures on the mountain Klementieva fly.

The fact is that in the area of mountain of Klementyev(Biyuk-Yanyshar) all the time the wind blows. Apparently this is connected both with the difference of temperatures of atmospheric layers.
The discoverer of this phenomenon was Maximilian Voloshin.
Legend says Voloshin, walking around the village, climbing the mountain and reflecting on the fate of the Motherland, threw against the wind, his wide-brimmed hat and, "donner vetter!", hat flew off, swaying disappeared in the Quiet Bay area. The hat still is not found:)

That is why in 1938, Koktebel was renamed planerskoe.

And we know about this phenomenon is still flooded here in assuming that the Bay is Quiet in vain do not call!
However she used to like just called Janissaries(Anychar Tartar). Janissaries — preferred infantry Sultan of Turkey (in 1475г in this Bay, landed Turkish troops) Because all the mountains around are console Anychar.
The mountain Kuchuk-Enishar near Cape Chameleon(with the grave of Voloshin), the ridge Biyuk-Enishar.
Its highest point Dzhan-Matoran Brokeback top with steep slopes and ravines.
Loosely translated from Turkic it means “save, help!”.
If I told the guys before, they definitely would not have got back to me the next morning:)

Quiet Bay located at the Cape Chameleon popular for its solitude, sandy beach and a shallow bottom.
Kind of reminded me of the Fox in the same long, beautiful beach.

However the solitude this fall, there was no smell.
Once upon a time in a Quiet Bay wanted to create the reserve.
They say that already the documents were ready, but prevented the collapse of the Union.
In the days of the Soviet Union, this area was guarded by more than Askania-Nova(biosphere reserve, Kherson region): everything was Packed with constructions of relevance to the space program and testing of new weapons.
On the commanding heights was based anti-aircraft missile complexes, the coastal strip was under the watchful supervision of guards. The second Balaclava in General.

Driving up, we were still some distance away uvedeli huge encampment on its banks.
Cars, tents, a lot of people, a police UAZ and the blue flag with a stylized letter "T".
Drove closer - damn!! Crimean Tatars!
Women, children, but more men. All swarthy, dark-haired.
Barbed wire, anti-tank, sweaty colonels in uniform.
We went ashore next. Tatar men are fucking laughing at us.
Rinat say - let's castaway the bait fish will be. Rinat though Tatar, but the species is not correct from their point of view.
Never seen them him found.
Well, we stood there for a minute or two, I saw all this action and back. Uncomfortable began.

Later I found out what it is.
October 19, about 200 Crimean Tatars blocked the route Simferopol - Kerch at the entrance of the city Old Crimea with the requirement to allocate land for individual construction in a Quiet Bay.
Later, some protesters moved to a Quiet Bay where it was in the time of our travel.

Land in a Quiet Bay you wish to receive more than 1,200 of the Crimean Tatar families living in the steppe Crimea.
The proposal of the government of the Republic on the allocation of plots within the boundaries of the village of Koktebel they rejected, since the proposed lands are at some distance from the sea (about 3 km).
As stated by the leaders of the Majlis of the Kirov, who initiated the fight for Quiet Cove, the land is needed Tatars "for the development of national business."
And, as they say the squatters, "we want that our children could go swimming on our own beach."

Archaeologists, in turn, opposed the settlement of the protected area.
According to scientists, in a Quiet Bay are molossidae ruins of early medieval settlementstion, excavations of which are waiting in the wings.

The Supreme Council of Crimea has twice postponed consideration of the draft which provides for the Declaration of the Bay as a natural monument. Recently, the head of the Crimean Parliament Boris Deich announced that in September this question will not be considered (nor was it considered in October - my note).

No water or electricity in this Bay of course not.
And if you've seen the terrain there, to sum it up there is a lot of money.
So if Tatars there and build all the same - it will be what is Shanghai village.

And it is unclear how such a situation worked filmmakers.
Heard that around this time there was shot a film about Brezhnev.
In a quiet Cove filmmakers shot scenes of the landing at Malaya Zemlya, which is located near Novorossiysk.
In the simulation of military action have taken part employees of the local military unit.
The film will consist of four series, and its plot reflects the period from 1928 until the last days of life of the General Secretary of the CPSU Central Committee.
The film "Brezhnev" will appear on court of the spectator in 2005 on the TV channel ORT.

Reached the opposite (closer to Ordzhonikidze) end of the Bay and again went ashore.
Here have rested the usual beachgoers.
We took our shoes off and along the edge of the shoreline went for a small protruding toe.
Our eyes opened a little cozy Cove. Don't know, it refers to the Quiet or has my name.
Hence the camp of the Tatars was no longer visible.
The place was good, but busy - there were tents of fishermen.
So we had to go almost to its end.
Next was the rock and passage along the shore was not. Holidaymakers were few and they all then dispersed.
The time was nearing evening. There was a gentle breeze. And we decided to spend the night right on the shore.
Put up a tent and swim a couple of times in the clear, but quite cool water.

Made food.oily and lay down in the tent, not assuming that we sleep in the night almost don't have to.
We woke up to wild wind gusts triplexes our tent like clothes on a line.
The wind was not something that would be very strong but what is inexorable.
Handfuls he threw sand in our abode.
Some time we have been lying in bed. But sleep was impossible. The noise was incredible.
've pulled in some pegs (they are so not much stayed in the sand) and began to blow under the tent.
If so it would then we could blow away in the sea.
Got out in the pitch darkness. Immediately the sand by thousands of tiny needles stung our faces and body.
Began to look for stones to strengthen the tent.
I wandered around with a flashlight on the beach and looking for boulders.
Tent our tent fortunately had a so-called skirt on the lower perimeter - wide strip of fabric to prevent snow or water under the tent.
She helped us a great deal. We buried her in the sand and on top of crushed stones.

Don't know what we would do if such a thing we had. And most of the tourist tents skirt has. It is only in some of the tents for extreme tourism.
While about the beach sand has penetrated almost in all places of our bodies. Hair was in tow.

When I reinforced the tent again tried to sleep.
But managed to forget only a short sleep. Another gust of wind and the rasp of sand woke us up.
Apparently we got his Parking lot for the rose of the winds, which allows gliders to soar over the ridge Biyuk-Yanyshar.
But from the realization that we were no better.

Understand a simple lesson of my land:
As Greece and Genoa passed
So Blowjob all Europe and Russia.
Civil unrest combustible element
Shatter... will Put new age
In the everyday sloughs other mrei...
Decay days passes.
But heaven and earth - eternally those WE.
So live for the current day.
Bless your blue okoem.
Be simple, like the wind, inexhaustible as the sea,
And memory is saturated as the earth.
Love the distant sails of the ship
And the song of waves upon the open space.
The whole thrill of life, of all ages and races
Lives in you. Always. Now. Now
M. Voloshin