Life without a sea. What is August in Odessa during the war

With the arrival of the war, it turned out that fishermen are not people, but blessed. No one ever chases them. Already after the patrol leaving, I specifically approached the pier, sat down and looked at the fisherman for a long time through red and white enclosure. And he came to the conclusion that this fisherman sitting behind the ribbons on the edge of the pier is a meter from the Black Sea in the world, for me there is a symbol of the present Odessa.

Couples come to the dusk on the dusk on the dusk. Everyone will carefully go under the enclosure, but try not to tear them, there are still rules of decency. Some people hung colored stripes, trying, why break someone else's work? Therefore, they just go carefully and sit on plates or benches. The lonely look in the sea, the couples almost all with bottles, from wine to rum, and they say something quietly. No one shouts, street (nabely, marine?) Musician with guitar - further behind the ribbons.

Every half an hour, a patrol with machine guns emerges from the twilight, carefully climbed under the tapes, trying not to break them, and politely asks to move away from the sea. No one argues, after the departure of men in camouflage, some return back to the plates. Near the hot kiosk is a queue of people 10-20 and at ten in the evening, as in Yalta in the pre-war years on the waterfront. There is no point in standing, and we go in the dark to the edge of Langeron.

The dolphinarium itself and the fountain playground near it in almost complete darkness, the backlight was disconnected. Several restaurants burn, then dive into the dark again. Cyclists pass by, and trying not to break the leg, pass couples. You can see that it is not possible.

For many years of walks here under the stars and in any state of alcohol intoxication, you remember up to half a meter, where some step and where you fell in the dark three years ago, almost breaking the bone and for a long time and long. We come to the otrada and find there, working without a queue and with cheap cold coffee, a milk cocktail and for some reason dumplings.

Although who need dumplings here in August in the dark one and a half hours before commandant? We arrange on the bench and observe. The beach squeezes with grass and in the dark it descends two with machines and disappear for five minutes. "They bathe in the night time, so the locals," - I pretend to see from curiosity. No, he was wrong. Not local. They do not bathe, but bring a particularly dangerous sabotage in the water.

He in shorts and rubber slippers, very drunken and cheerful and, waving "Swallow" beer, rehearse: "Good evening! We are from Ukraine!". He is being driven somewhere, but they are sorry and they seem to be released. We go further into a darker and calmer place. We sit on the edge of the stairs leading to the beach. I remember that a long -lasting restaurant on the pier seemed to belong to an eccentric businessman Vadik Black. Vadik died of Kovid two years ago. Kovid, as in another life.

Several times from the hotel to the sand leaves the guard and mow on us - who sits, why sitting? In the dark, someone runs into the sea and dived with obvious pleasure. And, having pretended that the tile after the unbearable daytime heat is still warm, I reject and lie on it in the star "Sea Star" - and I lie down for a long time, looking at the stars. They blink, one earthly origin and businesswear flying past.

You can open on the phone Flightradar and check, but laziness, and the empty sky will show. Whether something military or a satellite of Ilon Mask scratches in her space affairs. Nearby, the wife clicks on Instagram, the passing patrol shines on me with a flashlight and quietly goes on, some guys descend us straight to the sea and sit near the water. Almost ten and you have to return to the parking lot and take a taxi - by the curfew with a little thing.