–I wish he wouldn’t spoil our trip by dying… – mom whispers into daughter’s ear.
–Don’t bother, mommy. It’s organized, in case… – the girl kisses mom’s cheek.
Six hours flied: black tea in old-fashioned glasses with holders and cheese-with-meat sandwiches, prepared with love by the caring daughter; old movies on the train TV; dozing.
CHAPTER 6
Moscow. Our girl has thought everything over long in advance: a taxi driver meets the family by the carriage, helps with the luggage and chooses a “sightseeing route” heading towards Sheremetyevo . The traffic is heavy, but parents are not bored: they are childishly staring out of the car windows, eyes expressing curiosity and cautious happiness. Amazing architecture is slowly moving by: the Kremlin, the white high-rise beautiful building on Vorobyovy Hills is Moscow State University named Lomonosov, Hilton Moscow Leningradskaya, embassies; blocks of flats with huge impressive advertisements stuck on high buildings; imperial churches and majestic cathedrals: Nativity Church at Putinki, The Cathedral of the Annunciation, Arhangelsky sobor, Ivan the Great’s Belfry, gothic catholic Church in Presnya, colorful Pokrovsky Sobor on the Red Square is partially visible now…
Parents are totally fascinated by the changes since “perestroika”, when every single thing was grey and identical: buildings, restaurants, clothes, even city plans and street names in Russia were alike in every region. If you felt like dining out, you would know what is on the menu wherever you come: modest dishes, which you could find in any home, tasty but all the same. No variety.
If you desired a different dress, the only way to get it was to sue it yourself, in case you’d managed to “obtain” a piece of fabric in that “uniform” or as school-girls called it “incubator chick” society.
Airport. Parents’ wide-open eyes. Planes. Mountains and seas in the porthole. Daughter is smiling happily seeing that mom is on the top of the world!
CHAPTER 7
Antalya. Extremely bright light, fresh breeze, a conditioned buss welcomes the tourists. The driver kindly lowers the threshold helping mom in.
–Sweetheart, everybody’s so gentle to me… – mom is almost crying remembering attitude to invalids in Russia. When mom takes her daily stroll she’s about to be knocked out by a group of students rushing for a smoke and to get some snacks at the kiosk between lessons. In winter she slipped on the ice and fell down. Nobody gave her a helping hand so she was lying there in the middle of the sidewalk, humiliated, feeling unprotected and helpless, not able to stand up, until some woman eventually raised her. – I will not worry anymore… I like it here! – says mom as tears of happiness are streaming out…
A beautiful hotel on the seashore is like a small town surrounded by Bushy Mediterranean pines and eucalyptus trees. Flourishing vegetation is everywhere.
Turkish buffet is breathtakingly beautiful, abundant. Parents, who haven’t had enough food since “Perestroika”, are in great perplexity. They slowly go by the desks with viands and sit at a small table in the corner. A waiter has already flied to them offering the drinks.
–Go, take the dishes and put there what you like.
Parents got all mushmouthed.
–It’s “all inclusive”… All is already paid.
–Mm… Everything?
–Yes.
–All this food? Can we take whatever?
–Yep! Mom, what would you like? Let’s go see!
Mom takes her stick.
–But I can’t choose…
The first problem is that she can’t realize what is on the plate, the second is – she has never had such a choice in her life.
Father is standing by one of the salvers with meat astounded and immobilized. Albeit daughter hated him with all her heart, a discrepant feeling of content was filling her seeing the man happy.
After breakfast they used to walk in the garden and along the beach. Winter in Turkey is rather mild and the temperature on the coast doesn’t go lower than five degrees Celsius above zero, while the water is about sixteen degrees Celsius in January. They say that Turkey is the only country where in April you can enjoy skiing in the mountains and then go down to have a swim in the Mediterranean sea. May be it’s ok for those who love a refreshing bath: Internet info shows that the sea is only eighteen above zero in the middle of spring there this year.
Anyway, it goes without saying the climate was nicer than Moscow.
January midday sun is warm and lovely. The family is napping on beds on the beach.
CHAPTER 8
Saint Nicholas Cathedral
A mountain road is rising up to the clouds, the sound of hard rain in the ears. Relaxation. Everybody’s staring around: rocks, few abandoned houses and a fell-into-decay hut, where an old couple arranged a souvenir market and toilet for tourists. The toilet was so insanitary that people preferred to use the grass around, while an old German couple decided to endure till the next stop.
Mom and daughter are happy to spend much time together. They go out to buy something and take pictures, rain beating against their faces, they are just laughing in return. Nadezhda is splendoring with a traditional Turkish fez on, Grethen takes few shots with a tall mountain in the background.
Saint Nicholas cathedral is situated in Demre.
The country is sinking in fog and coolness.
– It’s forbidden to trade here!!! Immediately pay the price offered by the seller!!! – screams the guide with a deterrent tone. – Such things are sacred!
Fake-silver icons become obliterated displaying pink copper a year later. Business. Eventually, after having dragged the flock of sheep, oops sorry – the tourists, through the souvenir shops, the guide, a former Russian teacher named Natasha, leads them inside the cathedral, the place where a kind-hearted man Nicholas used to serve sufferers and made great deeds. There is an unpretentious house located few meters lower than the ground level around. They go inside, all is in darkness, only the altar is sprinkled by the beams of the sun rising from behind the clouds and percolating through the narrow windows. The guide brakes the silence and starts talking about Likia – this is the name of the country which was there long ago.
– In the first millennium BC this area was notable for an original culture it had. Later was invaded by Alexander the Great, by the Romans and the Turks, none the less keeping the autonomy, being a part of the Empires. The largest in the antiquity city and the center of Lycia Xanthos was situated on the like named river, originating in the Taurus Mountains.
The land here is fertile: Lycians provided themselves with wine, bread and other products typical of Asia Minor.
Talking about the cultural heritage, which remained from those times, tomb-monuments carved in the rocks were perfectly preserved.
And now about the church itself, which is here in Myra Demre in Turkey. In the fourth century the bishop of the city in ancient times known as Myra was Nicholas. Here he was buried in a marble sarcophagus.
After the death of St. Nicholas a church was built in his honor, but an earthquake reduced it to ruins. Then a basilica was erected here, but it was destroyed, this time by the Arabs.
–Let's go back to Nicholas. You all know, of course, that the prototype of Santa Claus is
Nicholas.
Margarita had no idea that the country with the famous all-inclusive had the Orthodox shrine, and in general was confident that St. Nicholas had been Russian!
– He was born in a wealthy family. In early age the boy believed in the teachings of Christ thanks to his servant. Throughout his life Nikolai was preaching Christianity.
