rarely take a book to review. I have so many titles on the shelves, screaming for attention that I have no such need. As for other reasons, silenced. But there are such books, for which please herself, and so was the case. Honestly I beat their breasts - and I wrote wyżebrałam, because they are such texts, which are still under development are of my rapid heartbeat. I used to think that I was in Georgia, but as my mother used to say - he was in the ass, shit seen. Carefully studied the map and our route and my husband and what came to light, not like me at all, and not at all. Namely, we arrived only to the borders of this country, while remaining within the administrative borders of Abkhazia. And now I thought I could be the occasion of this book pomądrzyć and submit their reminiscences of their stay. Sure, and so I pushed the boat out there, because staying on holiday in Sochi, upieraliśmy Although the trip, because how much you can lie on the beach ichniej, how much can Loic musztardówek cognac with theirs (or at least similar-looking glasses), but in 1988 was even communism and opportunities for travel, their freedom, were significantly reduced. Besides, most people who got to the coach, was interested in open air markets in other cities and commerce at large, and we like these two Gulls (because as we look in their eyes? "), Instead of checkered bags with the goods - with the guides in their hands, pasowaliśmy there like a flower to a window-dressing. Every time we stopped in some town, the whole bus of people left, and our two to the right, look, talk, fry, taste - a pity that we did not have time such an apparatus, which are now on sale. No nothing, but that's not supposed to be me, but about the book. While these reviews in the total of me is always through the prism of books read, this has probably got used :-))
flew across the text as dżygit through the city - an old Lada, no brakes, the rauszu, barely earning a cornering . At times I felt as if I had drank gallons of traps in the wine, and not the authors, together with the heroes of the story (anyone who has a minimum term of the Caucasus knows that anything that happened from the Georgians did not know about dry mouth). A multitude of names, people, places, names, events - calls dizziness. Sine, rapid transition from serious topics - politics, history, poverty, war, humiliation, oppression - the themes of light as down in the wind - the host, eating, drinking (which I say, drink the priest during Mass, they are simply łoili ), love, friendship and beautiful views - was giving a sickness. In a moment I forgot to breathe with emotion when reading about Martin Mellerze snipers shot at, or fleeing during the war, the ship from Abkhazia to Sochi (could it be in my footsteps, haha), just after I was suffocating with laughter over the descriptions of the exploration country - here's an example (or quote):
Guide, Amiran getting along with the question of the horse over the phone, he lived two houses away. I was glad that pretty well speaks Russian, but it was a joy it is premature, because the peasant pointed to a stocky young man and said:author, so to make fun of his 'ups and downs', but such human nature that most are all the lugs, as someone crash.
- This is my son Lasza. From there you go.
- And speaks Russian?
- A little bit, a bit - he smiled proudly, my father and I have to admit that especially as Georgia just in this declaration there was the slightest exaggeration. More specifically, the Russian could Lasza say "a little bit, a bit 'just i' diesat ', or ten. Why yes, not five, nine or sixteen to the third power, I do not know, but it became clear that we get bored during the journey will not.
not I had time to read the linguistic reflection, because before my head zamachały two stocky horses manes. Lasza, which, as each local mountaineer, although shattered in ebony, rosy cheeks, he quickly strapped them to my backpack and his bundle, and a gesture resembling a jump into the water showed me that I ride a merry pet. Byłem trochę skonfundowany. Myślałem, że zanim ruszymy, objaśnię wszem i wobec, ze to trzecia w moim życiu styczność z koniem. pierwsza miała miejsce w trakcie robienia fotografii na kucyku w Zakopanem, kiedym był przedszkolakiem, a druga, gdy wybraliśmy się z Anią trzy lata wcześniej na lodowiec Uszby w Swanetii. Wtedy prawie natychmiast spadłem, ale na szczęście turlając się, zatrzymałem się na głazie i nawet niczego sobie nie złamałem. Teraz miałem nadzieję na jakieś, jakby to ująć, szkolenie? Próbowałem to na migi pokazać, ale nie wiedzieć czemu, Lasza zupełnie nie zrozumiał, what's going on, and smiling, "said Jeno:" A little bit, little bit, "I'm sorry
do not know how this book they take people who do not feel the spirit of this country who have never been there, or not at all 'Russian climates' (Russian in the sense of the former Soviet Union as a whole, not just Russia) interested. I knew from the first pages, "so this is it." And as I read the description of an aircraft, between the bundles and animals, where imprezka on the whole, people drink, smoke and sing - I knew that I'm home. I've been there - as they say English-speaking, when they want to emphasize that they know they feel exactly as referred to. Well, actually once I flew this plane gay, so I confirm the personal dignity that the author does not dim.
Finally, I can not mention it here just Pakosińskiej Catherine, who loves Georgia as fiery as marriage Mellerów, of which I in the book and it is on romansowo. Until I turned off the tear in his eye, I say only. I watched it on TV programs about Georgia's, and now I draw from her blog rules and I will try wymodzić khinkali, indeed chaczapuri alone at home. I know I will not be as sunny and hospitable Georgia, but what to do?
book I recommend, cuddling contributors to heart, and the evening will raise a toast with wine for them - at least half an hour :-)
Gaumardżos!
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