4 June
Woke early to a sunny but cool morning. Post breakfast (fried toast!), found a great supermarket across the road from the apartment. We did a morning stroll up ul Krasnoarmeyskaya, where we enjoyed the turquoise hued Russian German House at #71, the Peacock House at #67a, and the dragon finials jutting from the gables at #68 (the Dragon House of course).
Did shopping at the supermarket on the way back, picking up freshly baked bread, and rolls and sweet buns, and pre-prepared meals including Chicken Kiev (which could not be resisted), and packaged salads. We went back to the apartment for lunch, washed down with cold beer, and Russian lemonade (which was much sweeter than I remember it from 1982).
After a rest more touring in the afternoon, first walking through Tronsky Sliver park, before a ride up to Resurrection Hill on the rattletrap tram No 1 (16 Roubles, 40 cents). A fair view of the town from the former location of Tomsk Fortress, now just wooden viewing towers.
We walked through the Jumble of Ploshchad Lenina, where old Vladimir stands amongst the flowers on a traffic Island, a wreath at the foot of his plinth. He is gazing south, arm outstretched toward the ugly concrete mass of the Drama Theatre, presumably exclaiming ‘Comrades, what were you thinking!’ Fortunately, the freshly blooming tulip beds soften the brutality of the concrete lump.
To the north is the Epiphany Cathedral, and we walk to the embankment of the Tom River, where the Russian version of the afternoon passeggiata is in full swing. A rock band plays covers to an appreciative crowd, two bare chested young fellows especially enthusiastically bopping along.
Opposite the Slavyansky Bazar restaurant, stands the famous statue of writer Anton Chekhov, the ironic comment of the city on the writer, who it is said, described Tomsk thusly,
’Tomsk isn’t worth a damn. A boring city…with dull people. A drunken city…with no beautiful women at all.’
The inscription on the bronze statue reads ‘Anton Pavlovitch, through the eyes of a drunk, lying in a ditch’. The statue is popular for photos.
Back to Prospekt Lenina, I took a detour along ul. Tatarskaya, where more fine wooden buildings, and the statuesque Red Mosque are found on the tree-lined street. Minuk took the shortcut along ul Lenina, looking in the shops. We met at a bus stop, and returned to the apartment, stopping to buy more supplies for tomorrow’s train journey to Yekaterinberg, and also chicken wings, fish and salad for dinner.
Woke early to a sunny but cool morning. Post breakfast (fried toast!), found a great supermarket across the road from the apartment. We did a morning stroll up ul Krasnoarmeyskaya, where we enjoyed the turquoise hued Russian German House at #71, the Peacock House at #67a, and the dragon finials jutting from the gables at #68 (the Dragon House of course).
Did shopping at the supermarket on the way back, picking up freshly baked bread, and rolls and sweet buns, and pre-prepared meals including Chicken Kiev (which could not be resisted), and packaged salads. We went back to the apartment for lunch, washed down with cold beer, and Russian lemonade (which was much sweeter than I remember it from 1982).
After a rest more touring in the afternoon, first walking through Tronsky Sliver park, before a ride up to Resurrection Hill on the rattletrap tram No 1 (16 Roubles, 40 cents). A fair view of the town from the former location of Tomsk Fortress, now just wooden viewing towers.
We walked through the Jumble of Ploshchad Lenina, where old Vladimir stands amongst the flowers on a traffic Island, a wreath at the foot of his plinth. He is gazing south, arm outstretched toward the ugly concrete mass of the Drama Theatre, presumably exclaiming ‘Comrades, what were you thinking!’ Fortunately, the freshly blooming tulip beds soften the brutality of the concrete lump.
To the north is the Epiphany Cathedral, and we walk to the embankment of the Tom River, where the Russian version of the afternoon passeggiata is in full swing. A rock band plays covers to an appreciative crowd, two bare chested young fellows especially enthusiastically bopping along.
Opposite the Slavyansky Bazar restaurant, stands the famous statue of writer Anton Chekhov, the ironic comment of the city on the writer, who it is said, described Tomsk thusly,
’Tomsk isn’t worth a damn. A boring city…with dull people. A drunken city…with no beautiful women at all.’
The inscription on the bronze statue reads ‘Anton Pavlovitch, through the eyes of a drunk, lying in a ditch’. The statue is popular for photos.
Back to Prospekt Lenina, I took a detour along ul. Tatarskaya, where more fine wooden buildings, and the statuesque Red Mosque are found on the tree-lined street. Minuk took the shortcut along ul Lenina, looking in the shops. We met at a bus stop, and returned to the apartment, stopping to buy more supplies for tomorrow’s train journey to Yekaterinberg, and also chicken wings, fish and salad for dinner.