Sochi, Russia was our stop today. It was brief, just about nine or ten hours. We were anchored so the getting ashore thing is a bit complicated. Sochi is located in the Black Sea above Turkey, on the right side and a bit north. [43.35N 39.45E] This city is well known in Russia, but little known outside of Russia.
You will hear more of Sochi over the next six years because it is the chosen site of the 2014 Winter Olympic Games. Yep, they got it. Vancouver 2010, then Sochi 2014. I imagine that there are Russians in Vancouver now seeing what we are doing.
Sochi is not prepared for foreign tourists, that is for sure. Russian red tape lives and is thriving in Sochi. The Russian immigration people set themselves up in the lower deck and we all had to parade by while some overweight rather grumpy Russian women stamped our passport, then we turned in a Xerox copy of our passport to another overweight Russian woman, then we received a pass of some sort from some sullen uniformed Russian official. They also must learn to smile.
Off to the tender where the 15 minute trip to the pier was uneventful. The day by the way was as sullen as the officials on board, gray, sombre, threatening.
We were met onshore by a slinky tall beautiful tour guide by the name of Marika. 39 of us on the bus. All with extremely low expectation levels. There are virtually no cruise ships stopping here. It is a Russian Black Sea Spa city, a winter resort as well with skiing etc. In the good weather, rather overfed wealthy rotund Russians have been coming to 'take the waters' for decades. Stalin came here often and decreed many of the buildings and monuments to be built.
I am not too sure of the happenings here during WW ll, but it appears to be all original buildings, some very beautiful, built in what I believe is called neo-classical. A touch of Roman or Greek with modern and fancy accents to it. Some are absolutely gorgeous.
The place is really a lovely city that is 140 kilometres long and about a kilometre deep. Needless to say the main road runs parallel to the shore, and traffic can very easily get hung up. There are about 400,000 people that live here in what we would call a well to do setting. The buildings are all in excellent shape and scads of new construction leads me to believe that it was thriving before they got the Olympics.
Our run in the bus got off to a bad start. First the microphone had a loud hum in it. The solution was to cut it off and Marika just spoke loudly. Then the people in the back could not hear, as they so loudly proclaimed. Then the complaint was that it was too hot, so the driver turned down the heat and turned up the air conditioning. Then all the windows steamed up. I felt so sorry for our guide it was a no-win situation. To boot the windows were so stained there was no chance in a zillion of even thinking about a photo. Welcome to Russia.
About this time I was ashamed to be on the bus, but we eventually we got to our destination, silently, the Spa. It looks like something out of a Ben Hur extravaganza, massive and cold looking, not a soul to be seen.
The door was locked and we shouted up a Russian woman who looked like she had never heard of the word brassiere. She was about 60, had had about eight kids and had a figure about 48 - 42 - 48. Gad it was disgusting. The top 48 was merely inches above the middle 42. The front door was eventually unlocked and we were allowed in. Into the shop area only, where we lingered for another 15 minutes as they discussed whether to let us go further.
The building was about 100 years old, built of marble and fit for Caesar or Stalin. It was so cold and sterile that it was laughable. I really expected Miss Marple to come wandering out to meet us with a cup of tea in her hand, with her woollen sweater on. It was almost that the place was out of business and had not been used in years. However they told us that the clients come in the morning for treatments and it is all over by 1.00 PM. [?]
Eventually another very large Russian woman in a white smock, [scary!] came and gave us a bit of a tour, all of it being translated by our svelte young guide. Hard to believe that very likely all these large ladies were also slim when younger, must be the food. Whatever the waters miraculous powers are they certainly are not slimming.
I really cannot believe that a spa of this Victorian Era is still functioning in the world. Can you imagine the shock waves if tres chick western women book an appointment there in the Olympics and are asked to slip into that tub that looks like it was used to get Joan of Arc to confess?
By now, we all realized there was not really any expectation of seeing anything today of any meaningful value. Next we went to the source of the water, equally 'forgettable' as one lady said to me.
Back on the buses and we were told we were going back to the ship! We all had expected nothing today, but we had seen less than nothing. Then a phone call came and the guide said we had a reprieve because of the late start and would be going to the Park. Wow, a Park! Actually we are about three weeks too soon. It was a bit like going to the Opera three weeks prior to the first performance without music or costumes.
By now I actually realized what was happening. We were in a very interesting and exciting city before it was spoiled by tourism. We were actually seeing Sochi the way it is/was before it geared up for the Olympics. Today there were no beggars, no hawkers, no prices in US$. No signs that said 'Welcome Cruise Ship Passengers'. It was delightful. We also were not stared at by locals nor abused and I saw no people sleeping in the park. I enjoyed the eye contact with parents, kids and merchants even though I could not buy or even ask them how much. Nobody speaks English. Beautiful.
We took the tender back to the ship, downloaded our pictures, had a wash and a drink and went to dinner at the Lido with Moe and Barb, who were on the same tour as us. My very brief encounter with Gail and Jim leads me to believe that their trip to a proposed Olympic Site was also 'forgettable', it must have been bad because the Cutler's are usually very upbeat.
Around seven we weighed anchor and headed west to Sevastopol, Ukraine.
Clocks go BACK one hour tonight, we will then be only 11 hours ahead of Vancouver.
I think that today, in the end, I enjoyed this little 'nothing stop' in Russia more than most people on the ship.
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