After an hour of torment, I still decided what I would write here, in the first part of this, about Theodosius - a bright and simple city, bathed in the sun. To begin with, I will say that I love him very much. I can’t say that there are obvious reasons for this, besides a conscious first acquaintance with Crimea through him, as well as a sufficiently distant call of my ancestors, which is clearly and obviously echoed in me. Here lived my great-grandmother with her sisters. Here in Feodosia. Long.
And in 2014, I also recognized this city, which, having passed through the well-known upheavals, like the whole Crimea, smiled and seemed to care for all the events anyway - it didn’t cease to rejoice at something, make noise in the surf and reveal its rainbow-colored hugs to newcomers or newcomers here.
I was shocked by one feature of this city - regardless of the season, people who come here to relax here in the summer or the strong sea wind in winter and early autumn, the city, I repeat, always smiles. How can this be? I do not know. How can a city maintain its coziness all four seasons in sweltering heat or in heavy rain? Can. And saves. And the city does not come to life in the hot season, as often happens in coastal cities, at this time it only increases the number of people and opens more tents and establishments, but the atmosphere and its liveliness remain unchanged. The whole city is, as it were, flocking to the sea. And it would seem that this is absolutely obvious because here is the embankment, beach, sea, but I did not notice such a feature in other cities - neither in Yalta, nor in Sevastopol, nor in Sudak, nor even in Yevpatoriya. And I cannot explain this phenomenon.
To better imagine, I will explain this with a simple example. I live in Moscow and a 7-minute walk from the house on both sides - a forest, a landscape reserve, 20 minutes - a forest, a lake and picnics, 15 minutes - a huge forest park "Troparevo", and this is generally a huge array, there is an incredible amount of houses around trees - chestnuts, apple trees, cherries, and there are many of them. And if someone lives without a green zone near the house, if there is no park nearby, then it can be a little difficult for them to imagine that you can go out and find yourself in the woods in the heat, for example, while the person living there doesn’t really pay attention to it his attention (as for me - I appreciate it every day, it is a great blessing, especially in Moscow), because he walks without hesitation among the greenery and each time in the magnetic direction to this green massif.
In the same way, in Feodosia - everything is attracted to the sea. You can safely walk to the sea. Someone even went out to the store or took a walk, sat by the sea, went on about his business. For me, it is so strange and amazing that sometimes my mind cannot contain it. It is so simple. This is an ordinary life.
And when the beach season opens, you did everything at home and just went ... to the sea, just like, say, I just go out and after 7 minutes in the landscape reserve. And you are among vacationers in the sea that you see daily, just like I am among those who come to our park. I understand that everything that I wrote may sound incomparable, obvious and unintelligible, but for me, it causes some kind of super-feeling that takes my breath away. And the long promenade ... along with it in the morning, jogging lovers like me go for a morning run. And if I run in the forest along with the mighty oaks, then they run along the promenade and along the sea. It seems to me. if I lived there, I would run there from morning to night and throw my headphones out as completely unnecessary(:
And old rescue towers or dilapidated houses somewhere do not bother me. They have their own Feodosian history, maybe not so long and ancient, but it is. The city as it is. And from this, the soul is warm and good. There is no pathos. He is simply absent.
And more people. This is a separate pacifying impression. Their faces are calm. No one is running anywhere, not in a hurry, not frowning. They go quietly about their business, smile at the sun, greet the sea, laugh. Or strolling slowly, walking dogs, playing with children, running, reading on the beach. And I repeat - this is as ordinary as my life here is ordinary. And I understand that not everyone realizes this, because, naturally, having been born and living there for a very, very long time, the boundaries of the familiar are erased.
I don’t want to describe the sights of the city here, although I could, about the Aivazovsky or Green Museum, the tower of St. Konstantin, about the statue of Venus of Milos in the gazebo-rotunda at the cottage, built-in 1911 for the successful Feodosian businessman Ibrahim Samuilovich of Crimea, about the lighthouse or museum Marina and Anastasia Tsvetaeva, etc., you can read about it from Wikipedia to a guide, there would be a desire, but little is said about the life of the city itself, invisible, but always present.
So I can’t say much, I can only take pictures of this cozy atmosphere. And now, outside my window, it rains and winds and the foliage rustles on the trees under my window, and there, when it rains and the wind blows, the sea rustles ...