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Beautiful photos of Chelyabinsk
Dmitry Chistoprudov writes:
Was the twelfth hour of the night. On the odometer was highlighted smooth figure 1790 km. Rather tired and sleepy, I wrote in my notes from Moscow to ChKADa traveled 1,790 kilometers. Travel time - 30 hours. Navigator drove us into the city center to the hotel Malachite and confidently reported that the ride was 10 minutes. I collapsed on the back of the couch and thought - well, come! Only where the city? Opened the window so at least something to see - two thousand kilometers of federal highways made our Orlando gray lump of dirt. In the face hit pleasant, invigorating air flow. In the darkness flashed bare trees. It seems a long time passed isolation ring road and the city did not begin all. After a couple of minutes, we somehow abruptly broke, literally burst into the center of Chelyabinsk.
The first impression - the city as a city, a typical regional center, the snow too white. The street was not cold, about 5 degrees below zero. On the threshold of the hotel in a sweater we met Siberian friend and colleague Thank Stepanov. Glory wanted to greet us, but just go to bed - the next day he was going to shoot the sunrise with some high-rise buildings. As a result, we drank tea, crackled a couple of hours in the morning and went to greet the dawn together.
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Was the twelfth hour of the night. On the odometer was highlighted smooth figure 1790 km. Rather tired and sleepy, I wrote in my notes from Moscow to ChKADa traveled 1,790 kilometers. Travel time - 30 hours. Navigator drove us into the city center to the hotel Malachite and confidently reported that the ride was 10 minutes. I collapsed on the back of the couch and thought - well, come! Only where the city? Opened the window so at least something to see - two thousand kilometers of federal highways made our Orlando gray lump of dirt. In the face hit pleasant, invigorating air flow. In the darkness flashed bare trees. It seems a long time passed isolation ring road and the city did not begin all. After a couple of minutes, we somehow abruptly broke, literally burst into the center of Chelyabinsk.
The first impression - the city as a city, a typical regional center, the snow too white. The street was not cold, about 5 degrees below zero. On the threshold of the hotel in a sweater we met Siberian friend and colleague Thank Stepanov. Glory wanted to greet us, but just go to bed - the next day he was going to shoot the sunrise with some high-rise buildings. As a result, we drank tea, crackled a couple of hours in the morning and went to greet the dawn together.
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