Food continues to be a problem. Klara won’t eat anything on offer, and nobody opens for dinner before 8 pm, which is terribly late for our provincial souls. We were rescued today by an Indian restaurant which opened as early as 7 pm and offered such good food that Klara agreed to eat some plain rice and 1,5 cubes of chicken. This is her 6-month ration of chicken, so I’m happy.
Whoever starts opening for dinner at 4 pm for the tourist crowd and offers American-style kid menu in this city will make buckets of money.
On a positive side, N bought his first Spanish book that he plans to read in the original. It’s by the only Spanish-language author known in the post-Soviet space in the 1990s.
In the photo, you can see a very fancy hotel (on the right) where I stayed once but never again. The personnel was so obsequious that they talked to guests as if we were on the verge of expiring of some horrific disease. I’m not used to be treated like a precious porcelain of the Ming dynasty, and it all felt deeply uncomfortable.
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