We live like on a volcano... (piece No. 3)
Live like on a volcano. . . >>>
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Sleep disgustingly. At dinner I managed to overeat. And how do poor friends survive in their Holiday? There, according to rumors, complete intestinal fornication. True, it is not the same as a year ago. Then they even served honey in combs.
A couple from Zaporozhye, Ira and Yura, said that food was much better in our hotel last year. Oh mom! I wouldn't survive. I devour passion, as I love!
Today (Thursday) was marked by the fact that the Ottoman lift, which raises to a height of 3300, was launched, and from where, according to the diagrams, a couple of black slopes should descend.
Well, let's see, let's see.
Rise. There was a mass photo shoot here.
Well, as for the black track. . . There was one black-black drop here - a rather short section, licked to asphalt hardness, with stones sticking out of the snow. A crowd gathered in front of him. The teapots, rising for spectacular selfies, frankly spectacled, not daring to do anything, and blocked the space for the rest. Others jumped in one fell swoop and raced on. This section could be bypassed by a traverse, which some did. But the bulk of mediocre skiers, like me and Ira, somehow crawled right here. Pleasure is below average. And then there was the usual good red track.
After going down a couple of times, we decided that there was nothing to do here. By the way, the route did not go at all as shown in the diagram. Apparently, due to the small amount of snow, they simply arranged it where it was.
As for the cannons, they were here, but they never seem to turn on. Vadik said it was too expensive. In addition to a powerful pump for the formation of snow, the guns also have a heater. Even though I have a technical background, I don't really understand how it works. But it doesn't matter. The fact is that the Turks are very economical.
Going down to the cafe, we finally met Verkin's husband and co.
During the trending process, I asked if anyone knew how to check the rest of the lifts on the ski pass. People said to look at the turnstile board.
The next time I got up, I looked. There is little left somehow. And where did it go so much? I thought, thought - something does not add up! And Ira and Yura, who instead of one ski pass for 100 lifts, like us, bought two for 50 each, which cost them an extra 50 lira, generally stated that although they traveled together all the time, they had a different amount left. How can this be?
I found the answer to this question the next day. From the guys who returned two weeks earlier, I knew about one life hack. If you snuggle up close to each other, in addition to enjoying close contact, you can slip through the turnstile in one "peak". (“Peak” is the sound the turnstile makes when activated). We did such a trick once, when there was a rather long queue for the lift. Another time, the trick failed - the rope operator noticed and, threateningly waving his hand, forced me to once again pass my hand in front of the sensor. By the way, where is this sensor located - xs. Sometimes the turnstile stubbornly did not want to work, no matter how much I waved here and there.
So, one day we were standing in front of a turnstile. The man, who had just passed through it, ran into the crowd in front and, standing immediately behind the turnstile, was telling something to his companion, emotionally waving his arms. And then I noticed that he (turnstile) turned. Apparently, the sensor reacted to the man's ski pass, which lies in the pocket of the left sleeve (there is one on ski jackets, especially for the ski pass). We did not fail to take advantage of this. As soon as the man moved far enough away from the turnstile, Vadik and I, having become a train, leaked out in one peak. Don't accuse me of cheating. It seems to me that their turnstiles had me more than I had them. Otherwise, why did it take me more lifts than I actually did? So, be careful with gestures, citizens!
We were also entitled to a free trip to the city from Coral. Of course, with a visit to the leather store. We didn't want to at first. But then we thought, why not? Ira called Suleiman on Thursday and booked four seats for us on the bus on Friday. We were promised that we would spend no more than 20 minutes in the leather store, and then we could walk around the city on our own, even in the Forum shopping center. We were supposed to be picked up at 16.00 and returned by dinner. I was told that no one would sell us anything in the shopping center without HES codes. Suleiman was puzzled. He sent them to us via viber within half an hour.
At first I agreed to go, and then I regretted it.
We will return from shopping, at best, at seven in the evening, and early in the morning we will leave for Cappadocia. As long as we eat, that's it. I also wanted to book a hotel. Yes, and it would not hurt to look at the routes of our upcoming wanderings. I faithfully printed them at home, but did not look much. I thought that we would figure it out on the spot.
The girls from Kiev, who bought a flight on a balloon, said that the departure to Cappadocia was at 5 in the morning. Ohohohonyushki! Anyway! I won't sleep again! That's all.
On Friday we decided to ride Hadjilar. But to get to it, you need to stupidly spend several climbs. In order to save money, we decided to use the free shuttle that runs between the ski lifts. He rarely goes, and, apparently, few people know about him. The Kiev guys threw off the schedule for me. Where they got it, I don't know. I didn't see it locally. Yes, and in Ukrainian!
Shuttle schedule
In order not to row as much as 200-300 meters in boats, Vadik and I, as well as Ira, Yura and Sasha, used the hotel bus to Tekir station. We crossed the road and took up position at the bus stop at the mosque. Exactly at 10.05, as stated in the schedule, a pristinely empty green bus with the inscription "Erciyes Ring" arrived. The driver demanded that we put on masks. Apart from the five of us, no one was going to go. Set sail. We stopped at Hisardzhik (Sofa), defended the required few minutes. No one came. Exactly at 10.20 we went further. They arrived at Hadjilar five minutes earlier than expected. Too long, however. 35 minutes. On skis it turns out, about the same, but in the fresh air. And for money spades.
We dined today, for the sake of broadening our horizons, in the Hadjilar edal "H 2650". Presumably, this means the height at which it is located.
This dish costs 25 liras, which is 100 hryvnias. I can imagine how much for such happiness would be slapped in Bukovel!
There were 5 more lifts left on our ski pass, but we had to go down already in order to be in time for shopping.
There were three more victims from another hotel in the bassik that came to pick us up. We agreed that we didn’t look at anything, didn’t touch anything with our hands, otherwise we couldn’t get rid of the bailiffs. Yes, it was not here! We must pay tribute, the models were sooo interesting! It looks like a coat with a coat, but in fact a fur coat! And down jackets turned out, upon closer examination (feeling), to be leather jackets. Very unusual and cool. But sooo expensive! But what about show-offs? No one will see and appreciate that you are not wearing a down jacket, but a fortune! I conscientiously tried to pretend that I was not interested, and the rest, succumbing to the charm, began to try on. I made scary faces at them, transparently hinting that decorum was observed, the 20 minutes allotted for us to loot the store had already passed, and we could go. Our fellow traveler, a man who accompanied two ladies, swore to the sellers that he would definitely return and buy half the store, but not today - he forgot to withdraw money from the current account.
Barely broke free. We sat back in the mikrik. But Ira and Yura are not there! I already thought that they would come out with a purchase. But no. It worked out. They liked the jacket, which cost, according to their estimates, at best, 200 bucks. After a furious bargaining, they agreed to sell it for 800! They left. Everyone agreed that fur-leather is no longer our format. Everyone still has premature sheepskin coats. The man said that he even has a men's fur coat with a label, bought by him on one of his trips, just to unhook. Everyone now prefers simpler and more comfortable clothes. Show-offs are a thing of the past.
Then we were taken to the Forum shopping center. At the entrance, our temperature was measured and we were forced to show our passports. It's good that we took them, and remembered them at the last moment. Suleiman did not tell us anything about this. But no one checked the HES code. Perhaps he would have replaced the passport. I don't know.
Our main goal was to buy beer. Well, go to Waikiki, see something for your granddaughter. Ira and Yura had slightly different tasks, so we decided to part ways.
Waikiki was found fairly quickly. But only the women's section. Grabbing some jeans, I went to try them on. While measuring, I got tired. Do not like! Ugh! Go here! I'm never a shopping goddess. I can't stand this job. I didn't see the children's section. In the men's dress, she tried to force Vadik to try something on. He grimaced and refused. We're wasting time! We urgently need to find a supermarket. With difficulty, but found in the basement "Migros". Beer was found. The price, however, was depressing. Ephesus cost about 14 lire for 0.5. Moreover, in glass, it cost a little less than in tins. Oddly enough, it's usually the other way around! Well! You have to pay for love! We haven't had a beer since Sunday! It's already Friday.
We still had a whole hour left, so, having decided that we would buy 2 packs of 4 bottles, we went, for now, to the children's department next to Migros. There were very nice little winter jackets at a discount. With our money, they cost only 240 hryvnia. Freebie! Without deciding which one I like more, I bought two at once.
At the checkout, for some reason, the girl asked me to write her last name and first name on a piece of paper. Along with the purchases, I gave out some kind of printout. Hmm!
We returned to Migros. There was a bunch of junk for sale. I liked the fleece and pants for Vadik. Only 47 lire. There was nowhere to measure, so they figured it out and took it. Having stocked up on beer and loose pistachios, we went to the cash register. The cashier asked for some kind of card, apparently a discount one. I threw up my hands. She sighed, took out a pack and began to fiddle with it. I decided that she wants us to issue it, and waved her hand, like, no! There wasn't much time left. She shrugged her shoulders and began punching through our purchases. And then the thought came to my mind that without this card, the discount on clothes would not work. But it was too late. We checked the check. This is true! Fucked up. Cheap junk went at 100% cost. Anyway! Where ours did not disappear!
We went outside. Where will they be waiting for us? And FIG knows! It turned out that the shopping center has several entrances and exits. Not the fact that we entered the same place where we left. Spinning and spinning - no one you know is visible. We did not notice any landmarks, such as a man in a jacket and a tree “in”. Ah, carelessness! They remembered only the brand of the bus and three digits on the number. Where will he go?
I sat Vadik with the bags on the bench and started circling like a bee. But not in vain. There was also a bassist and fellow travelers.
While we were shopping, Ira and Yura managed to walk near the fortress and take a picture of our Erciyes in sunset pink tones. I slammed the photo.
Without delay, right on the bus, we opened a bottle of beer, and with incredible pleasure, drank, brightening up the half-hour trip.
After dinner, we read a message from Suleiman that the bus would pick us up at 4.15. Time after time it doesn't get any easier! And when to sleep?
I went to booking. com. He writes to me that nothing was found in Gö reme on our date. Oh really! It can't be! I tried again. And he writes to me that I cannot book a hotel in Turkey from the territory of Turkey. It's not verbatim, but that's the meaning. What is this news? Well, you went! This is me Bookingu. We can do without you!
On that optimistic note, we went to bed.
We live like on a volcano. . . (kusmanishche #4) >>>
