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Tourists in jackets and sweaters sharashatsya of cafes and footpaths in the city. But the air, what a bitch, air. Do not regret that I broke a half-day.
On the beach STRC interviewed rescuers. Those standing on a tiny patch of sand something, shrugging his shoulders, said,. I think that the conversation was something like this:.
- And where, in fact, the beach?.
- Fuck knows, washed.
- What do you think they both rest in Svetlogorsk, two thousand people can fit on this patch of 10 to 10?.
- Fuck knows, we do not care, we are rescuers.
- The authorities of the resort town planning navezti sand?.
- Fuck knows, we're just sitting on the tower.
- And what do you know?.
- Yes, we know nothing, we're put to work, but do not know.
In general, supposed to put fence away from the sea to the sand is not swept away every year. But, apparently, to deliver every year cars pit sand less than once a pile of stones from a barge or whatever it is supposed to 100-150 meters from the beach. I do not care, then I do not swim in the sea. Neither in this nor in any other. But to sell a product every year more and more difficult.
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