Murder and Moonshine in Uglich

Thursday, July 02, 2015
Uglich, Jaroslavl, Russian Federation
This was something of a strangely sad day-- being our last day sailing the Russian waterways.

From my studies of the Vikings at uni -- part of my Early English degree -- I knew the historical Vikings had plied these rivers, trading and doing a bit of settling (and pillaging) along the way .

This modern-day Viking ship has been a great way of seeing their banks, rich in vegetation; the thick forests and reedy inlets and we were sorry it was coming to an end. 

On the one hand, it was quite nice to see the end of the 'white nights,' now being much further south.

 But on the other hand, the prospect of getting back to normal and being landlubbers again -- even with slightly longer nights and more sleep -- was a bit depressing.

But still -- we had one more glorious day of sailing to relish and one more intriguing little town to visit.

Uglich. Ugly by name and ugly by nature -- or rather by history -- was the place where Ivan the Terrible's son Dmitry was imprisoned and later murdered in a post-Ivan the Great power struggle.

There was a pretty horrible fresco in the Church of St Dmitry of the Blood, where his body had been discovered, showing the ghastly fate -- death by stoning -- of the men responsible .

However, that was the extent of ugliness in Uglich.

The rest of the day was again bright, warm and welcoming.

We docked at Uglich quite early -- a bit TOO early for the our first stop which was a moonshine tasting. 

We were taken to a very pleasant teacher's house to see a typical Russian house and garden. 

It's school holidays now so she was moonlighting as a local tour guide and moonshine-maker.

Her two grandchildren were there to greet us, before heading off to Kindergarten. 

They were truly cute, especially the little boy who was very keen to recite his poem and enjoy the applause.

We then all piled into her humble but pretty little house and enjoyed, if that's the word, many toasts to friendship

The moonshine was to me (not Rick) impossible to drink -- just breathing in the fumes was enough to burn my mouth and make me swoon. 

However, I managed to fake it enough to look as if I wasn't a party pooper and so survived it with my senses and guts intact.

The cucumber and cake was nice though.

As was the garden, which, she assured us, was maintained totally by herself alone.

The house reminded me of Rick's Grandma Duval in Tampa. 

Sitting in her dining room reminded me of when we were first married and went to visit, clustered around her little dining table surrounded by all her knick knacks, many home-made and comfortingly kitsch, eating -- or attempting to eat -- grits. 

I had the same problem then, trying to look as if I were getting it down but actually not

She was quite a lady... a real Ma Kettle, with heart and hands that worked over-time.

The church trip came next with an unexpected little concert by a professional choir of about 5 men who sang the most beautiful songs. 

First a religious chant that reminded me again of Buddhist chanting, and then the Volga Boat Song.

Mllson's Point friends - remember singing that at school? I'm not sure which teacher taught it to us - Mr Doig or Mr McDonald -- but 'Ho Heave Ho!' is fixed in my memory - and to hear it sung in Russian was quite a treat.

The morning drew to a happy conclusion with a Russian-style lunch on the sun deck as we sailed away from Uglich and its bright domes. 

However, this al fresco banquet quickly morphed into a more English-style picnic when the heavens opened and instead of sitting at the beautifully laid tables, we rushed inside to perch precariously with our plates wherever we could find a suitable spot.

Never mind. 

All that moonshine had left everyone feeling ever so soporific and relaxed that -- hey, ho -- who cares?  

Hopefully there was no heaving though.

 

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