Posting almost in real time!
Armenia, our camp on a hill in Khosrov national park. I’m sitting under a walnut tree (on which a flashlight hangs and shines on the table), and drinking whiskey from a thermos — so schoolboys wouldn’t suspect anything.
Three days ago M. called me and said “do you want to visit Armenia? Say YES! The tickets are already paid”. I jumped out of the car that was carrying me from Moscow to Nizhny Novgorod and a little more than a day later was going to the airport in company of several students and their teachers (M. among them).