Sunday, 2 June 2019

Kapmeh is mort! - 2nd June



Bernie is tired - she sleeps – Sam shops - Brian and I wander the blue line of the walking map.

Towards the centre of the old city - the state of the pavement and the atmosphere of the street gradually improves from acceptable to delightful - the pavements become smoother with missing paving stone clusters becoming less frequent and less extensive.



Buildings become increasing impressive - more and more cafes - a cafe culture obvious.



We past tributes to Pushkin and pass the Philharmonic Hall where the Smith‘s and the Milliken’s will enjoy a violin recital tonight.





We encounter the start of the Tour de Ribas/Odessa Grand Prix - tall - tall elegant girls present trophies to short wirey men.


 On wards towards the opera house – magnificent.

  
Past rose garden and fountain - I am surprised - this is all so unexpected - I think of fat bellied Eugene - I wonder why he never chose to mention any of this! - this could be any of the famous European cities!




Along the tree lined promenade that looks out over the new port area.




We arrive at the famous steps of Odessa - no sign of spies escaping capture by propelling their vehicles down the stairs - no sign of gunshot or explosion - alas my memories must have been created by the magicians of the silver screen.



We pass over the mother-in-law’s bridge – look over at the “lover’s bridge” - look out over the bay.


Photograph the symbols of eternal love removed from the bridge to ensure that it remains capable of carrying the lovers of future years.


 Pass the Shah's Palace and past more impressive architecture



Past yet another impressive building


Pass 240Z and stop for coffee on a street corner to watch the world go by.


Into the central park - alive with people - it is Sunday - tots dance - young girls sing - young girls belly dance - everyone relaxed - everyone happy.


Past street guard station and back to the hotel.


Sleep away the afternoon before it is time for a visit to Opera – never been before – no idea what to expect – we have our in-depth knowledge of this fine art in common with a number of our fellow travelers – scheduled for 3 hours 40 minutes with three intermissions – “don’t think I will last past the first” says one!

We meet the fellow travelers in the foyer of the grand opera house – one of the best in Europe says the guide and their guidebooks! – a legacy of the Tolstoy family – “stay where you are” instructs Knud.

Knud and Brian head to acquire the pre-booked tickets – they are sent to the back of the queue – they work their way forward – they eventually reach the window – they attempt to interact with the Russian speaking middle-aged matron charged with the responsibility of providing appropriate and courteous service to artistically inclined patrons of the august house – she is in a mood that is clearly not conducive to provision of such services – Knud seeks his pre-book but unpaid tickets – she bellows “today” – “no” – “no” – “today” – Knud mutters and mutters some more!

He persists as only Knud can persist! – the rest of travelers gather in the crowded ticket hall to watch the interaction -  eventually she is worn down – the only way she is going to rid herself of this pesky Dane is to somehow allocate him tickets – the tickets are produced! – she holds them tightly in her hand and indicates the cost – Knud calls in Brian’s credit card – the effect is to further enrage the face bellowing from behind the glass – “no” – ‘no”.

Knud fumbles for cash from his pocket – he calls to Brian – “give me all your money” – Brian fumbles – the travelers respond to the call for cash – suddenly there are bundles of Hryvnia being flashed - Christine joins the party – she opens her bag to contribute to the flurry of money –

Suddenly there is a high-pitched squeal of a volume that would do justice to any diva that has ever graced the stage of this house! – “he had his hand in my bag” she says – Chris has already responded and placed a vice like grip on the arm of the accoustee! – the squeal attracts the attention of security.

The accoustee is detained – a short, thin, middle aged man of roma appearance – he is quiet – he seems resigned to his fate – he stands there – one coat sleeve hanging loose in the manner of an amputee’s dress – the arm used for acquisition of ill-gotten gains tucked out of sight. – “security calls the police – “he didn’t get anything” says Christine – “do you want to press charges?” – “no!” -  she once again looks down at her bag and gives the zipper an additional closing tug!

Into the theatre – it is worthy of its reputation! – majestic! – we reach our seats – in the front rows! – Knud has done well!

The stage curtains drawn -the orchestra plays the opening tune – gee that is familiar! – Lyn smiles “the Geelong theme song” says she!

The opera – Carmen – Kapmeh! – the stage full of performers – Bernie counts them – 70 on the stage in the one scene – bright – bright costumes – simple effective sets – wonderful dancers – great singers – the first intermission comes and goes – no sign of the travelers wanting to leave – the second and third intermissions follow and again the travelers remain – they love the show – I love the show – we all love the show!












It is 11:00 at night yet Bernie and I feel perfectly safe walking alone back to our hotel on the edge of the old city – we stop at the Italian restaurant opposite – we strike up a conversion with a Dane and his Russian wife – “we love Odessa” they say.

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