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A nice boozey reminisce November 23, 2005

Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
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I’ve just been having a lovely, boozey electronic reminisce with an old friend from my time studying in Petrozavodsk in 1998. It was his birthday and he drank wine sitting at his computer in Moscow and I sat drinking wine at mine in Berlin. Not the worst solution. Unfortunately, I am microphoneless, so couldn’t chat to him via skype. Anyway, “what was that bit of town near such and such a place where such and such a person lived called?” I asked. Drevlianka, I was told. (Is it all flooding back?) And what was that fucking gorgeous lake just a few minutes’ drive from there out of town? Something salmony? Lososinoe, I was informed. I dashed to google. And I found this. A heavenly lake, five minutes from concretey high-rises where you could swim and make kebabs and generally lap up the beauty. (By the way, the photo is taken from here and many thanks to its author, whom I tried to write to, but the e-mail came straight back.) It’s making me have a minor pine for northern Russia, although now could be an especially masochistic time to go…



1. lukeski - November 24, 2005

Now, Dezik, was Lososinoe the place we went to very late on. I’m thinking Russians catching crayfish, Slavic Beauties (both Polish and Russkii). Camp fire.

2. Broke in Berlin - November 24, 2005

Liukchik, I’m not sure we ever went to this lake together. I think I only went twice, both times with my hosts. Ralphchik was there once. Pavlik perhaps too. It was where I befriended a consumptive friend of Vital’chik and Vitul’chik who coughed a good chunk of lung up every couple of minutes and constantly invited me to go off with him for a friendly, laddy waz. “Дез, пойдём писать.” How could I refuse? But definitely the oddest invitation I’ve ever received, and there was certainly no cunning intent behind it. (He was a very nice bloke, actually, and his wife-to-be was an English teacher who quickly boned up on her Big Ben and Houses of Parliament knowledge while she had the chance.) Anyway, that place just provided all the joy of the northern summer. We would go there on, say, a Tuesday evening after my hosts got back from the office. With the length of the days, there was no hurry. And you could swim, drink, eat, be merry and EVEN waz till your heart’s content. In some ways, Russians have freedoms that many of us can only dream of.

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