At 9:30 am I am engaged in a walk on Victory Avenue. The car I did not vote stops – there are three in the taxi. A drunk man, to the right of the driver, asks:
– My compatriot, where are you going? – on my chest, I have a piece of the number “50 RUS”.
– Yes, in general – in Irkutsk. But at least before leaving for Kurgan.
– Zalaz We’ll take.
I climbed on the free seat behind. “Countryman” fell asleep.
Within 500 meters of the post office, the driver stopped and said: “Everything. I will not go to the traffic police station. “I went out, I thanked the driver and asked to replace the” farmer “asleep in the back so he does not bang his head in a dream.
Suddenly, the “peasant” catches up with me and asks me 10, then 5 rubles first! Motivating by saying that “… we raised you”. I explain that we did not agree on the money, that I asked for a tour “en route” and that in general, you stopped alone. The man scratched his head and went offended towards the car.
Fellow citizens! I am ashamed for you (us). All the way from Moscow to Chelyabinsk, I’ve never been asked to pay the fare. And here is “such” as I hear from “compatriot”. Shame
On the track – a continuous stream of summer on cars. For thirty minutes, I counted in this stream only seven cars of the “no 74th region” and only two trucks, which however have already taken the passenger.
People! Do not leave the big city on weekends!
At 10:25, I took a gazelle in Miassky. At 10-50 came out at the fork. The guy with the bag also votes in the direction of Barrow. After half an hour, I stop the fast “Lada” towards Shchuchiy. Behind the wheel – Caucasian, also a fan of fast driving. At 12:10 I go out at the turn “Pike”. Five minutes later, I sit in the gas. Alexander comes from Chelyabinsk and saw me in a previous position. Seeing that I am writing in a notebook is interested in their purpose. It turns out that his daughters (15-year-old twins) also have Internet. I give him a business card with my address to send him this book when he appears.
So, talking about computers, school and other things, we came to the turning point to Yurgamysh, where Alexander died. There was a traffic police station, a coffee shop and a “KURGAN 62” sign.
This seemingly good position turned into one of the longest of my votes on the whole trip! Tolley, my mood got so bad or there was a magnetic storm on the sun, I do not know. In general, I often have bad luck on the 11th. In June, I went from St. Petersburg to Moscow more than one day that day. By the way, there was a terrible heat.
Then, cars with Kurgan numbers passed in front of me, “Drovers” drove in empty cars, even a 50 RUS minibus with only three passengers. And again, I commemorated the nasty word “compatriots”. Well, you saw a voter from the Moscow region between Chelyabinsk and Kurgan. At least he stopped, he asked who he came from … But no, he slowed down, he saw me and … left without stopping. Eh! And also – “compatriot”! Voted with a backpack and without, with a hat and without a hat, standing and sitting – nothing helped. It was here that I thought it would have been easier for both of us to introduce ourselves – we could encourage ourselves, support ourselves morally and better lead with our companion.
From 15:15 to 15:45 took a break for lunch. Baked in coffee mashed potatoes on milk powder and chicken cubes. I drank tea with bread and sweets.
Only at four-thirty BMW stopped.
At 5 pm, the driver turned at the first corner towards Kurgan. Goodbye, I asked him:
– And where is the entrance station of the traffic police?
– Yes, there, you go up on the bridge, so immediately after the bridge, there will be a pole.
– thank you And how much does it go on foot?
– Yes, I do not know, I did not go there. Well, about three hundred meters behind the bridge …
– Thanks for the help. Have a nice day.
“Immediately beyond the bridge”, you guessed it, it turned out to be exactly 2.5 km. What I had to walk, because the road was coming down and cars were driving fast. I had planned to drive even in the dark for at least 200 kilometers, but this ride in the heat was so tired that when I reached the turning point “with the traffic police station,” the head of the stops was “no”. The post was in the direction of Kurgan, it was already 18 hours, and I took the summer resident to a foreign car in town. The man was so hospitable that he not only drove me all the way up the city to Sunny Boulevard, but that he also walked the way told me, “… here is such a factory, here is such a neighborhood … “and so on …
On the list, I took a cold shower (there is no hot water in summer in Kurgan), laundry and dinner. In the evening, Sergei and I read Wise Books, looked at pictures and even went to the Tobol River. Sergei bathed and I did not want to lose a new “tiredness”.
Kurgan is the capital of U.ZH.D.
I open the great Soviet encyclopedia. I read:
“… The boulevard is a broad avenue lined with trees along the street, the seaside, etc. The creation of a network of boulevards plays an important role in urban greening. ”
Contrary to what the Encyclopedia says about Sunny Boulevard in Kurgan, there were no trees, but there was a lot of sun. “Boulevard” was a loose dam in the steppe, on both sides of the sidewalk lined with groves of weeds and other extensive steppe vegetation. True, the houses were large, beautiful and composed of several families. It was called CFC (Youth Housing Cooperative). A hundred yards from the boulevard, the Tobol River flowed. People walked with towels and wet shorts. The lack of hot water is a good reason to go to the river. I did exercises, swam, had a delicious breakfast.
On Sunday, I decided to take a city tour – I really did not like hitchhiking on weekends.
From the micro-district to the center, there are two buses # 13 – to the market and # 16 – to the train station. I decided that if there was not a single car before the bus arrived, I would sit on the bus. So it happened. The price was 1 ruble for the conductor.
The train station was very old and big, but without suburban trains. As the policeman explained to me, the electric trains leave from another station.
At the same pity was “Bus Station”. Between them, on a high pedestal, was an old steam locomotive, painted with gay flowers.
At the bus station, I rewrote the intercity bus schedule for “VE” And began to know where the “train station” was. They explained to me that it was necessary to “make two stops” on Stationaya Street. This street was very interesting, because on this are located all kinds of railway facilities. If there are fans of railways among the readers, then you absolutely have to walk along the street of the station in Kurgan, the others will not regret it either.
Here is a poster on a building: “OUR MOTTO will value the honor of the railway man!”
On another building, in large letters: “KURGAN DEPARTMENT U.ZH.D. – COMPANY OF HIGH CULTURE! ”
So the rest of the department – “low culture”? Here is an interesting picture at the end of the building: a locomotive driver, holding a steering wheel (flying?) In his hands, look forward. Under the picture is an inscription explaining where the driver looks – “LENINIST’S ROAD”. I wonder where the locomotive can go, aside from the “paths”, where are the rails and arrows going ?! Steering in the locomotive is impossible!
On the contrary – the U.ZH.D. Portraits are inserted in the glass niches imitating the windows of the car. There are workers, railwaymen, repairers, the head of the kindergarten and even the main gunner VOKHR. Probably, he shot someone very well, so they hung him up so the others could not fly. Here, HERO OF SOCIALIST WORK. Each portrait – a brief description of the feat. Come read for yourself.
And here is another locomotive, very antediluvian. More like a black cask of kvass. The inscription on the base reads: “The first Russian steam locomotive built by mechanics AE and ME Cherepanovs. Founded August 2, 1987. In honor of the 150th anniversary of the first Russian Railroad. “I think it’s unlikely that the Tcherepanov locomotive, which is even mentioned in the history textbook, survived so well, probably a model.
Finally, I arrived at the suburban station. The building is modern, the waiting room is free. On the second floor – a cafe. Hot buns are cooked – a smell (ah!) All over the train station. I rewrote the schedule, had a snack with a roll of juice and walked to the local museum of local culture.
The museum was very big. On the ground floor is the Hall of Nature: birds and stuffed animals are very skilled. Owls and owls especially liked this, and they sit in nature without moving. Here, there is a complete feeling of the presence of a bird.
On the second floor is the Kurgan story: primitive peoples with Gorbachev coupons and the State Emergency Committee. It was very interesting to see historical documents, posters from the Stalinist era, front and back newspapers and much more.
The art museum and the Museum of Sunday Decembrists do not work?
Then my path was towards the beach. (The heat was below +40 degrees.)
On the way, I went to take pictures at the monument in Krasin. In the shadow of the sculpture, two girls of about 12 years old were hiding from the heat. I asked them to take a picture of me and asked them my favorite question. I always ask this question to the children who live near the monuments: “Girls, do you know who this Krasin was?”
As always, I was told: “we do not know”. But, on reflection, they advised to read a plaque on the neighboring house. The council read:
“Leonid Krasin was born in 1870 in the city of Kurgan. He was a remarkable Soviet diplomat, a statesman, the oldest member of the Bolshevik party. Our street is named after him.
This Krasin was a revolutionary, I knew it from school. Everyone knows that an icebreaker has been named after him to save the Cheluskintsev. But what specific “exploits” he has committed, the story is always silent. Even at the Museum of Local Lore, I did not find any information on this subject …
When he reached the beach of the city, he bathed in a warm river and sat down to write a newspaper. However, the process was slow because it was too hot in the sun and small mosquitoes bit in the shade of the bushes.
Soon, a plane appeared in the sky and paratroopers began to pour over the heads of the campers. Each received a flag on which sponsors’ advertisements were displayed. The paratroopers took turns landing on the beach, and a crowd of screaming children immediately rushed to them. It seemed like they were ready to rip the “heroes”.
Tired of swimming, I went through the CSCC to the bus. In the park, another railway landmark was discovered – the “Children’s Railway” with small cars and a small locomotive. The train used to ride special rails and stop on a real platform with the house “Kass”. The semaphores were also real, of normal size. As the locals explain, the railway was built under socialism, with the arrival of senior leaders in the region. She only worked a few days, but as soon as something broke, no one started fixing it. So, this is worth all this “wealth” so far, so visitors can wonder how much it was before “All the best is for kids!”
I took bus number 16 and went to the apartment. Along the way, I drew attention to a feature of the Kurgan buses: we had already gotten used to seeing the inscription “ZANOS 1 METER” behind the bus-accordion. Here, the inscription on a similar bus was different: “ZANOS 1.2 METER”. Interestingly, the roads are not slippery, why do buses run more in Kurgan than in other cities ?!
At dinner, we had dinner and wrote a description for “VE” After taking a cold shower, I left the house at 9pm. Sergey drove me to the bike. As I had to go quite far from the city to the highway, I decided to go at night, go there no matter how far you were from Petropavlovsk and spend the night in a tent. And in the morning, without wasting time to leave Kurgan, go to Omsk with the “morning wave”.
Almost immediately, a taxi driver took me, who agreed to drive me on the highway leading to Omsk. We crossed the city, then the steppe, and now we say goodbye to the Moscow-Omsk-Tyumen-Kurgan interchange. The car makes a U-turn and returns to town to work. Thanks to the Kurgan taxi drivers!
Over the next 30 minutes, 10 cars drove towards Petropavlovsk. All, adorned with my “nocturnal appearance”, slowed down, but did not take it, either driven near or loaded with passengers. Two “summer residents” and the police patrol even stopped to be curious.
Towards Tyumen, the flow was noticeably brighter. After all, most cars probably passed through Tyumen, bypassing Kazakhstan.
At 11 pm (01 am local time), I set up a tent in the middle of the field and went to bed.
In a detour of Kazakhstan.