December 29, 2014, the morning after the New Year corporate party … “Damn it, why did you have to buy tickets for that day ?!” – flashed through my head, while my hands mechanically turned off the alarm. The backpack was prudently assembled two days earlier, it remained to throw a toothbrush there, get dressed and go. “Oh gods, where ?!” – you ask. I will answer: “To the Carpathians, of course.”
The road to the Carpathians promised to be long. First, the plane transferred me to Kiev. There I spent half a day devoting this time to getting to know the city, and at night I went to Ivano-Frankivsk by local train. Sleep sleep!..
“Ivano-Frankivsk through Pivodini!” – notified the conductor. Well, ok, who is the extreme wash? .. At the station I was met by our future guide, a great connoisseur of the Roman mountains. It turned out that another participant in the campaign, Tanya, arrived on the same train. Roma very kindly booked for us an inexpensive hostel in the city center in advance, we went there, dropping on the road to the local tourist equipment store, where I bought a cool water-repellent ointment. Looking ahead, I will say that it was thanks to this ointment that my old berets survived the campaign and peacefully rested at home.
The rest of the day was traditionally devoted to getting to know the city. The city blinked amiably with New Year’s lights, lured into cafes and souvenir shops, and pleased with its unusual architecture and color. Later, Roma said that a trend was noticed: people sell their houses, drop everything and move to Ivano-Frankivsk. Um, well, sort of … wow …
We left the hostel with ease, but it turned out to be difficult to get back. The building was reliably hidden from space radars, the navigator’s arrow smartly jumped from one block to another, local residents shook their heads: “Street N? No, I don’t know … ”Well, with a sin they found in half. One uncle suggested: “It’s over there, right behind your backs.”
Once again in the morning we went to Sberbank. There they began to recognize me, they smiled. “These are my last rubles, so I won’t come again,” I afflicted the workers of the currency front.
From Sberbank, Tanya and I stomped to the station, to the group’s meeting place. Only ten people, all Ukrainians, I am alone from Russia. We met, no one remembered anyone, plunged into the car. Drive a few hours, therefore spaat. Through my sleep I heard “Marina! .. Vitalik! .. Marina! .. Vitalik! ..” and bursts of laughter. “Funny, that’s good …” I thought peacefully.
Damn, sleep is cold. I clumsily pulled on my backpack and climbed into the ranks. New Year’s Eve was getting closer, the sun was disappearing, the snow was rustling and silvering under the moon, the trees were swaying measuredly, the people were sniffing and purposefully walking forward to the hut, lost in the middle of the Universe, where we were to cross in 2015.
Zelene village → Polonina Skupova.
Here she is, a hut, “X-number one” on the way. Oven, table, trestle beds. After some time, the guys lit a fire, a decorated Christmas tree materialized in the center of the room, and tasty nishtyaks appeared on the table.
“And let’s spend the old year Moscow time! ..”
“And now we will meet a new one! ..”
“And now, according to Ukrainian time! ..”
In general, it was fun. Gifts, oranges, bonfire, contagious laughter and all that. And the next morning is the first day of the new year. What’s the plan? We finish the unfinished, finish the unfinished and move on. That would be forever.
Polonina Skupova → village of Stovpni → Mount Ludova.
We walked on the first day of the new year for a long time, we went a lot, came dark. Kolyba, “X-number two,” had an intricate interior and made it clear that her patrons were people with imagination.