Croatia is a country of a thousand islands. The land of a thousand islands. Adventures. Alternative history. Collection of stories (M. V. Yankov) What is an island state

The depth of the straits between the islands is up to 65 meters. Moreover, these straits abound with underwater rocks, which did not become islands purely by chance. Naturally, the bottom of the river is simply strewn with wrecks of ships. Thousand Islands is considered the world's best freshwater diving reserve. The Thousand Islands zone is about 80 kilometers long. Naturally, both banks of the river were dismantled into summer cottages, hotels, motels and beaches. Trust me, this is an amazing resort. By the way, the Thousand Islands meat sauce, which almost everyone happened to see and even try (McDonald's, Subway, Wendis, Burger King), was invented and advertised in 1912 in one of the local hotels. Most strikingly, here it is called Russian sauce, and in Europe it will also be called American sauce.

The Thousand Islands National Park was listed by UNESCO in the list of unique phenomena of the biosphere in 2002.

One of the most beautiful bridges in the world, connecting Canada and the United States. I drove on it in winter and was amazed by the views from the car window. "Bah," I thought, "Thousand Islands! We have to come here."

According to legend, some supreme Indian god was saddened by strife between people and descended to earth. He brought with him a beautiful garden, which he left to the little people so that they would not be very hostile to each other. Little people admired the garden, but did not stop their destructive activities. Then the angry god gathered the garden into his big string bag and flew back to his heaven. And the string bag broke right over the St. Lawrence River. Where the pieces of the garden woke up, there an island arose. And so it was, or something else, now no one knows. But people have another reason for contention. For a long time, Canada and the United States shared jurisdiction over these islands, and during sluggish wars they were used as strategic outposts. But in late XIX century everything calmed down, and the area began to attract exclusively fishermen, summer residents and yachtsmen. The islands began to be sold for very modest money, even at that time. Gradually, each piece of land acquired its owner. And the owners in this part of the world are very correct. They tend to take care of their property. And so we sail on a steamer and look around. It was a good day at first, but as soon as we boarded the boat, the weather turned sharply worse. Therefore, the photos could be better.

There are many legends about the islands and island structures. For example, this bridge is considered the smallest border crossing in the world. Claim that big Island is located in Canada, and the smallest in the United States. The owner of the dacha can allegedly cross the border an uncountable number of times a day without customs formalities. In fact it is the purest water fiction: both islands are Canadian on paper.

This is a rather large island, it is called Oleniy. In 1876, this island was bought by one person for 175 dollars and presented to the most secret Masonic lodge called "Skulls and Bones". Fans of conspiracy theorists argue that it is this dark organization that rules the world through a Jewish-Masonic conspiracy. The threads of control seem to lead to this deserted cottage. The lodge itself is based at Yale University. No one is allowed to enter the island, and members of the lodge have no right to tell anyone anything. But there are rumors, confirmed by aerial photography, that the island contains the ruins of two or three more manors, surrounded by abandoned tennis courts, now overgrown with gooseberries and wild rhubarb. The fact is that Yale Masonic lodges have hidden funding for the university, and in the last hundred years this funding has left much to be desired. This is the only reason why the Jewish-Masonic conspiracy cannot spread its wings in any way, otherwise it would not seem enough to anyone. But freedom-loving nations still cannot verify what is happening outside the walls of the only surviving cottage, because the island is controlled by the American border service. By the way, although the above paragraph seems to be complete nonsense, everything, except for the Jewish-Masonic conspiracy, is pure truth in it (and maybe he too). Members of a really very secret Masonic lodge "Skulls and Bones" do own the island and indeed sometimes visit their domains, but the cottage does not legally belong to them. The property tax is paid by some trust fund, and it also keeps this house in order.

During the excursion, I was tormented by one thought: suppose the owner of this hacienda called his friends. And there wasn’t enough booze. How long will it take for them to run for more?

This is the most famous smallest and tidiest cottage. By the way, all buildings on the islands are connected to electricity, landline telephone network and sewerage. A special energy company is in charge of operating the most complex engineering networks.

There is a summer shed on the islet behind the bush, which is not visible from here.

Buildings rising out of the water, reminiscent of ancient casemates, evoke the idea of ​​castles. Indeed, there must be a castle here. Hello castle!

Multimillionaire George Boldt, who came to the States from Germany penniless, began his career as a waiter and ended up as the owner of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in Manhattan. He was extremely fond of the nature of the Thousand Islands, and, as soon as he could, he bought a decent-sized island, which he called the Heart (as you know, the Germans are prone to simple sentimentality). Boldt dedicated the castle on his island to his beloved wife. In the midst of construction in 1904, his wife died suddenly from some kind of illness. Boldt sent a telegram about the completion of the work, fired three hundred people and left here forever. He never saw his castle again. The unfinished ruins spoiled the landscape for a long time, until the American government bought Heart Island in 1970 and finished construction. Now the castle is a luxurious museum. However, not everyone can enter the castle. On the island, of course, the US Immigration Service is rampant. They are not allowed without a visa. Everything is good for me, but my mother, with whom we rode on the roads and waters of Ontario this time, had no chance. Without a doubt, this is the strangest US immigration destination in the world. But it is equipped in all respects as expected. In principle, of course, ships dock on the island from both banks of the river, and one can imagine how an attacker who dreams of illegally washing cars at an American gas station sneaks from one ship to another, bypassing the US Immigration and Border Protection Service. But they are on the alert and do not allow inclinations.

The power plant of the castle is in the foreground. So what? Why don’t the noble don make himself a power plant according to an individual project?

We sail around the island, circling it clockwise. The power plant ... it can't be. However, this is it.

The pier. The wooden booth is American customs.

I came up with a lot of comments on this picture, but then I decided to leave them all behind the scenes. The look of the castle speaks for itself.

The half-crumbled tower in the foreground is called the Alster Tower. Its purpose is incomprehensible and unknown to me. I think it was mothballed in the state in which the island was transferred to the US government almost forty years ago.

The picture shows the whole Heart Island. The power plant is on the right, the unfinished tower on the left. In a house opposite the island, Boldt planned to make a yacht club for his friends. In the background is the Canadian span of the International Bridge. The snapshot, of course, was found on Wikipedia.

Casa Blanca's antique mansion (White House, obviously). Inside there are 26 rooms decorated in Victorian style. I don’t understand why all the articles about this house emphasize exactly 26 rooms. The house was built as a very fashionable hotel. It opened its doors in 1903. I found an old New York Times print advertising summer rest in this house. Rooms are rented in it today.

New construction is noticeable in these two frames.

And the last frame is also, unfortunately, not mine, I found it on the same Wikipedia. Very nice...

The tower clock showed exactly 11.40. Surprised, I glanced at my wristwatches: 19.10. Mentally she quipped: "The city of happy people - they don't watch the clock." The guide, guessing, apparently, my bewilderment, said: "This clock stopped during the earthquake in 1667". Under the motionless arrows on the narrow white-stone streets, life was seething, mixing the centuries.

You must enter old Dubrovnik through the Pyla gate, a semicircular tower with a sculpture of the city's patron Saint Blach. His gilded statue - Vlach holding a model of the city before the earthquake - stands in the altar of the church that bears the name of the saint. The steps in front of her, polished with millions of feet, have long been inhabited by tourists. In the evenings, music thunders here. A pulsing laser, tracing bizarre figures in the dark sky, now and then stumbles over ancient walls. The sharp beam freezes for a second, dissolving in the dim light of the ancients, like the walls, lanterns. Materialized link of times ...

Surprisingly, it was in Croatia that I felt the absolute concreteness of this concept, somewhat worn out from frequent use. In small towns scattered along the Adriatic coast, behind blind shutters that tightly close the loopholes, people live in fortress houses that have retained their unchanged appearance since ancient times and received the status of architectural monuments. The children, deprived of any piety in relation to the gray-haired antiquity, jump in the "classics" drawn on the stone pavements of the 17th century. Like many centuries ago, the heavy doors of the shop are opened, filled with a variety of goods - local and overseas.

We, a group of journalists, were invited to Croatia by the Moscow travel company "Danvita", which has chosen this country on the Adriatic as one of its main directions of activity. To be more precise, that part of it that is called Dalmatia, while less than others mastered by the Russian tourism business.

By the way, Croatia is a country with old tourist traditions. Historical chronicles store information that the first hotel for merchants and other visiting business people was built in Dubrovnik in the 16th century. However, the real tourist boom began in the 19th century with the massive construction of railways. In 1840, the first tourist hotel was built in Opatija, Istria, on the largest peninsula of the Adriatic Sea. And Croatia was flooded with its closest neighbors - Austrians and Hungarians, who were the first to appreciate the healing local climate, the beauty of nature, the possibilities of varied and healthy recreation. Everyone is at ease here - modern Robinsons, dreaming of solitude (they say, even if the country is flooded with vacationers, they will not be cramped: for everyone there will be a personal cove or an island, where any boatman will willingly deliver "from the mainland" on a cheap basis), climbers and yachtsmen who dream about the "elastic wind", lovers of scuba diving and fertile thermal springs. And, of course, gourmets - the best varieties of fish (and there are about 400 species of them in the local waters), lobsters, oysters are put on the table fresh, bypassing the refrigerator.

Croatia is a country where you want to return. The reason, perhaps, is in harmony and beauty, which for some reason turned out to be beyond the control of the tough century of scientific and technological progress.

It is amazing: being just a few hours' drive from the center of Europe and taking advantage of all the benefits of civilization, Croatia has managed to keep intact the charming corners of wildlife - the one that most of the continent knows only from old photographs, '' Danvita director Nina Senchenko enlightens me while we are we are waiting for our charter at the Domodedovo airport. Three hours will pass, and I will see everything with my own eyes.

Woven from the sea, sun, greenery, islands, coves and rocks, nature itself, like a brilliant architect, embodied the law of the "golden section" on this earth, in "divine proportion", as it was called in the Renaissance, measuring out its share of forests, water and dry. “The gods wanted to glorify what they had created, and on the last day they created Kornati from tears, stars and the breath of the sea,” - this is how Bernard Shaw described the piece of Croatian land that captivated him - a necklace of islands thrown into the sea. Probably, each of the 1185 islands deserves such words, each of the thousands of bays and coves that cut the coast of Croatia. Here, European kings and heirs to the throne rested from the great affairs of state, whose lists include the German emperor Wilhelm, the Austrian emperor Franz Joseph, even the Japanese one Hirohito and other titled persons.

Shakespeare settled the heroes of his comedy "Twelfth Night" on this land. Over the years, her charm inspired the romantic Lord Byron, the Italian witty comedian Goldoni, the courageous American Jack London, our compatriots Chekhov, Yesenin. Agatha Christie, wise by life and experience, chose Croatia for her honeymoon after her second marriage. "Under the window of our villa," wrote the famous dancer Isadora Duncan, vacationing in 1902 at the Villa Amalia in Opatija, "there was a palm tree that attracted my attention. Never before had I seen a palm tree growing free. Every day I watched, how beautifully her leaves sway in the morning wind, and from her I took this slight swaying of shoulders, arms and fingers. " Than she conquered the world.

The Croatian land has witnessed one of the most romantic stories of the 20th century - the love between the British King Edward VIII and the American Wallis Simpson. Having sacrificed the crown to his feeling, the crown bearer took refuge with his beloved in Dalmatia - although there are so many beautiful places on earth! - having delighted some of the compatriots with a brave act and aroused indignation by the frank, as it was regarded, neglect of the throne - in the other. But the scandal attracted the attention of the then British and American press to the beautiful land on the Adriatic. On the catwalks and streets of New York, clothes appeared stylized as the national Dalmatian costume. Curious tourists rushed to Dalmatia from the British Isles and from across the ocean. And everyone considered it his duty to definitely visit Dubrovnik, immediately baptized "the heart of Dalmatia, the pearl of Croatia, its trademark." Experts compared it to Venice and assured that it could well compete with the "beautiful Italian" for the right to be called the most beautiful city of the Mediterranean and the Adriatic.

We did not change traditions either, and, barely stepping on the ancient stones, plunged into the extraordinary atmosphere of Dubrovnik - scorched by the sun, intoxicated with idleness, cheerful and uninhibited. I’ll note right away: there is probably no other land where on a tiny piece would fit so many treasures taken under the protection of UNESCO, like Croatia: Dubrovnik, Split, Trogir, Plitvice Lakes and more, more ...

We were lucky: we were introduced to Dubrovnik by a historian, a native of the city, who knows all its nooks and spoke as if he himself had witnessed the events of centuries ago. Together with Leiko Iovich ("Your lion," he introduced himself), we walked along the main Stradun street, every now and then deviating to the side "skalinads", narrow - on the sweep of the arms - streets, steep stairs climbing up along the ancient houses, up, up.

In some places, the flight of stairs is interrupted, running into a street-terrace, as if hanging over the houses. Now these terraces are inhabited by many tiny - two or three tables - restaurants serving excellent Dalmatian wine and seafood delicacies. The restaurants smoothly flow into one another, and the border can be determined only by the color of the tablecloth and the setting. The hosts are right there, persistently, but not annoyingly inviting guests, convincingly describing the merits of their kitchen. The competition is huge, so you have to twirl around, using all your ingenuity to come up with something especially attractive. And they come up with it. Merry fat man Marco, whose funny cartoon portrait among the images of marine life adorns the menu board, invites potential customers to taste homemade wine. His competitor neighbor demonstrates a picturesque dish with fish, which can be immediately baked, fried, boiled, stewed - whatever the guest wishes. The charming polka lady Helena, who was brought to Dalmatia by her parents as a girl, and she settled here, setting the table, puts in the middle a round vase-aquarium with a goldfish. And everyone will add a plate of cheese, salad or a glass of wine to the order. "Compliment" is called ...

As if having rest on the square-terrace, the staircase-street runs higher, to the next "square".

The location, height and width of buildings, the slope of roofs for gutters, the slope of streets, the size of windows and thresholds - all urban construction was regulated to the smallest detail by the Constitution of the Republic of Dubrovnik in 1272, - says Leiko Iovic. “By the way,” he said, “this Constitution, supplemented by minor amendments, lasted until the fall of the Republic in 1806, after the invasion of Napoleon. So, if the owner of the house made the threshold even an inch larger by getting out on the sidewalk, and the door was wider or shorter than prescribed, he was punished. It doesn't matter whether he was a noble estate or a commoner.

Learning the history of the free Republic of Dubrovnik, I mentally projected many of its institutions onto our life. It turned out interesting. "Forget the personal, deal with state affairs" - this inscription, carved above the entrance to the Great Veche and preserved to this day, was read by the "deputies" who gathered for their meetings. And God forbid it was to break this commandment from the moral code of the "fathers of the republic" and take advantage of the "official position"! They paid, as the chronicles testify, not only by expulsion from the honorary assembly, but also by reputation, which was more valuable than gold. The Republic of Dubrovnik was dominated by the complete "consent of the estates" - and only this allowed it to avoid social unrest for centuries.

She did not create idols or erect monuments in honor of her celebrities - is it because she did not want to be demolished by the next generations? The only one to whom, by decision of the Republic, in 1638, a monument was erected in the courtyard-lobby of the Prince's Palace, was Miho Prezata - a navigator, a citizen who donated all his property to the city. The republic appreciated the people of artisans, encouraged science, literature, art. The first pharmacy in Europe was opened here - and now it is carefully kept in the form of a museum, where you can see flasks and devices, over which someone similar to Dr. Faustus conjured. And the Sponza Palace, where the first school in the Republic was located, and then the most famous society in the Balkans "Academy of Scientists", now houses one of the most valuable archives in the world. The first documents from 7000 volumes of manuscripts date from the XII century, the last refer to our century. Maritime historians especially value "professional materials": all records concerning ships and their routes have been kept here in perfect order since 1278. Including lists of teams and passengers.

Even during the construction of the fortress walls (and they were rebuilt during the XI-XVII centuries), the "national interest", as we would say, was taken into account. When erecting, for example, the fortress Lovrenac, three walls were laid with a width of 3 to 12 meters, and one - only 60 centimeters. This was one of the wise precautions: if one of the commandants of the fortress decided to encroach on power over the free city-republic, he would be immediately "rendered harmless." And it is probably no coincidence that it is above the entrance to Lovrenac that another of Dubrovnik's moral tenets was carved on an ancient stone: "Freedom is not sold for all the gold in the world." The city was conquered, but could not be conquered.

After the fall of the republic, the fortress turned into a barracks of the Austro-Hungarian invaders during their 100-year wars, then - the cannons were barely silent - into a restaurant, then into a meeting place for the International PEN-Club. During World War II, there was a Nazi prison here. And now Hamlet is being played in Lovrenac. Until now, the ancient walls, in the scenery of which the tragedy of the Prince of Denmark unfolds, remember one of the best performers of his role - the great Laurence Olivier. And in summer, the fortress, like 32 other sights of old Dubrovnik, turns into a stage for the famous arts festival, which has been held here every year from July 10 to August 25 for half a century. Even the attack in 1991 by the Serbs, who could not come to terms with the independence of Croatia, did not force the city at the foot of Srj to take an "intermission".

We were preparing gifts for children in the courtyard of the Sponza Palace, suddenly the sky over the city darkened, and a rain of grenades and shells rained down on it, - said the owner of the boat on which we decided to sail around Dubrovnik. An experienced sailor, he now calls himself an "old coaster", he rides tourists on his own boat, at the same time performing the role of a guide. The earnings in the season are enough for the winter. True, in order to put on shoes, dress and pamper three sons, a wife and a daughter, you still have to work hard at a construction site. Our new acquaintance is fine with that.

The main thing is that it was calm, without war. Like now, ”he says. - And that day - December 6, 1991, the day of St. Nicholas, we call it - the day of fear and horror. Then a truce was declared, we thought there would be a ceasefire as promised. No. The ships blazed like torches. Houses, churches, streets shook from the shooting. It was scary when the cross on Srdja collapsed. It's like the end of the world has come. And six months later, on May 31, 92, there was a new raid. Then entire villages burned down. I am very sorry for the Arboretum park in Trsteno. They say he was one of the most beautiful in Dalmatia. For several centuries it was cultivated by the Guchetichi - the famous aristocratic family of the Republic. There were poets, artists, connoisseurs and nature lovers. And in one fell swoop everything was destroyed. Only two plane trees are left, - our captain sighs. “Thank God it's over now. War wounds can still be seen only on houses. But we will patch it up. But tourists come to us again. The Russians, however, are still not enough. Mostly Germans, Italians, Austrians. Many guests from Holland and Belgium. Poles have appeared recently.

Later in the Department of Tourism I was told that tourist Croatia is gaining momentum again. The number of holidaymakers has already approached ten million a year - twice as many as the country's population. These are not only Europeans - they come from all over the world. Here they hope that by 2003 the "golden" pre-war level, when Croatia was considered almost the most visited corner of the world, will be reached. There are reasons for optimism. Good hotels, solid, environmentally friendly cuisine, almost zero crime. For the third year in a row, the "Blue Flag" has been flying over the sea area - the European Evaluation Commission awards it for quality services, cleanliness of the sea, improvement of beaches and marinas. "Dubrovnik and its environs owns the cleanest sea in the entire Adriatic", - once wrote Jacques Yves Cousteau. And he can be trusted.

The island of Brac, where we went by ferry from Dubrovnik, looks like a huge ship anchored in the azure sea. Mitko, the driver of the minibus put at our disposal, immediately reported that Brač is famous for its stone quarries. "The White House in Washington is built of our stone and marble," he proudly declared and immediately offered to go to the quarries. We did it. But a little later, after walking around the charming villages scattered around the historical center of the island - the town of Supetar. It grew up around a small harbor, and its main inhabitants are fishermen. Like many centuries ago, they come here in the mornings, moor their schooners and boats, dry nets almost on the embankment, and sit down in coastal restaurants - konobahs, order a cup of strong coffee, leisurely exchange a couple of mean phrases - about life, about the catch and go to trade this catch. Life here flows slowly, measuredly, checking, as in the old days, by the sundial on the wall of the ancient temple.

On the way to the quarry, we turned into another village (Mitko really wanted to show the most famous places on the island).

This was Napoleon's headquarters, ”he pointed at a solid, sturdy building.

And now?

Now nothing. There is nothing in this village at all. Once upon a time

4 thousand people, 11 remained. During the war, they dispersed in all directions: some - abroad, others - to big cities.

The abandoned village looked unexpectedly elegant: no ruined houses, no boarded up windows. There was a telephone booth near the ancient temple. It turned out that you can use the card to call anywhere. Which I took advantage of, called Moscow. While we, dumbfounded, discussed this abandoned village, out of nowhere appeared a grandfather, a local old resident. The grandfather was cheerful and sociable. It was easy to talk to him - he understood Russian words well, and we understood him, Croatian. The grandfather said that he was 71 years old, that he did not want to leave his home when his children and neighbors left here. "They will come back anyway," he said confidently. "Some are already returning." Suddenly something crackled in his pocket. Grunting, he took out ... a cell phone. We were numb.

Before leaving for the "mainland" we were invited to dinner at the hotel, which, as we were assured, is famous for its cuisine. Entering the hall, we confess we were confused. The walls were covered with posters reminiscent of our civil defense visuals. On one of the tables lay a disassembled gas mask, next to it - instructions for using inflatable vests, approximately the same as laid out on airplanes. Boxes with ... board games were raised in a high pile. In a separate box, some tubes in khaki packaging were poured in a mountain. We could not resist, began to consider them. It turned out to be a cream. One - from mosquitoes and mosquitoes, the other - from the strong sun.

Suddenly young, healthy, tanned guys burst into the hall with a noisy gang. Looks like from the beach. Seeing the strangers, they excused themselves and quietly walked through the open doors into the building. We were told that British soldiers from the peacekeeping forces stationed in Bosnia are now living in the hotel. Every six months they come here for "rehabilitation", which is combined with military training, then go on vacation, home, and then return to their place of service. For six months before the next vacation. The guys are taken care of here - after all, the soldiers. “We cook their food according to English recipes,” said the cook Maria, who also fed us.

Then we met an even larger group of vacationers of peacekeeping soldiers from Holland at the Medena hotel. There were many girls among them. They looked unusual in camouflage. But the uniform did not prevent them from having fun in the night disco ...

And at the end of the day, Croatia presented us with another meeting - in the tiny village of Sebet near Trogir, not far from the Medena hotel, where we lived. The village itself is typically Croatian - clean, neat, with a temple and a square in front of it, paved, as in all ancient cities with white stone, a couple of three narrow straight streets, where the windows of houses look into each other's eyes. And of course, with the remains of an ancient fortress wall. In a word - Trogir in miniature. Or Split. Or Primosten - you can name a dozen cities, similar, like twins, but also like twins different, with their own character, with their own special sign.

The peculiarity of our village turned out to be an art gallery. We saw her at once: at the open doors there were pictures - flowers, the sea, barges, sailboats, islands, rocks. Everything that we saw while traveling in Croatia suddenly came to life on canvases. They blazed with bright colors, impudent nervous strokes betrayed the author's irrepressible temperament. The hand felt strong, obviously masculine. Milyada Barada was displayed above the door. After looking at the pictures, we moved on. But they didn’t take even a dozen steps when they buried ourselves in the sign "Mino Barada Street". Intrigued, they returned to the gallery. A marble plaque was seen on the house, which had not been seen before. She reported that the famous historian, member of the Croatian Academy of Sciences Mino Barada, who was also a writer and a prominent public figure, was born and lived in this house. Struck by the dates of his life: 1889 - 1989. One hundred years! We looked into the gallery again. A pleasant female voice called us from the second floor, asking what had brought us here. “Curiosity,” we explained. The woman put down the brush she held in her hand and came down to us. Graceful, dressed smartly and elegantly, as if she was waiting for guests. Introduced herself. Milyada Barada, artist, poet, gallery owner. Heir to a famous name and an equally famous house.

Look - this corner was once part of the fortress wall. It is over 500 years old. - She proudly shows the old masonry and the niche that has been preserved for a long time. - The spirit of my ancestors hovers here, I feel it.

Milyada herself was born far from here - in Australia: Croats have long scattered all over the world, especially in Canada and on the Green Continent. She returned to her historical homeland very young - something was drawn. Although there remained a brother and sister. Now he lives in Zagreb. He writes a lot - poetry and pictures. She painted since childhood and knew for sure that she would be an artist. Her paintings are bought by private collectors and museums from different countries. They also adorn the Vatican collection. Milyada did not even think about poetry. Rhymes and rhythms began to take shape unexpectedly. And they resulted in 8 books. Poems, like paintings, are about the sea, about flowers, about their native land. “About my roots and my element,” says Milyada.

When she arrives in Sebet, people flock to her. Fishermen talk about their catches and watch her paintings. They like them, only men are surprised how she, a woman, manages to capture the many-sided character of the sea so accurately. Women talk about children. She is interested in listening. She knows all the locals. And it’s not difficult: there are only 500 people in the village. They live in abundance, and this makes Milyada happy. She does a lot of charity work. Member of UNICEF for 26 years. Organizes humanitarian aid to African children suffering from war, poverty and disease, refugees from neighboring Bosnia and other countries. Fortunately, her compatriots no longer need emergency help - they stand firmly on their feet.

At parting Milyada gave me a book of her poems. One of her paintings is reproduced on the dust jacket. A stumpy tree, through the branches of which the sea turns blue. The tree has been growing for more than a hundred years near the house where her ancestors lived and grandchildren will live ...

Already at the airport, I realized what I still lacked in Croatia. Dalmatians! It seemed to me that elegant spotted dogs from Dalmatia would come across there at every turn - just like in the famous Disney movie "101 Dalmatians". Not at all. In Moscow, these dear dogs can be found much more often than in their homeland. When I pestered the locals with the question - where are the Dalmatians, they answered laughing: in the Franciscan monastery in Zaostrog. In the painting of 1724, a Dalmatian was depicted there for the first time. I should have seen ...

Elena Bernasconi

Which state is called the "Country of 1000 Islands"? and got the best answer

Answer from Ђ @ nyushka [guru]
INDONESIA
The country in question is the largest island nation in the world, often referred to as the "Country of 1000 Islands". Rabindranath Tagore said about this state: "I see India everywhere, but I do not recognize it." (Indonesia).

Answer from 1 [active]

Answer from HANKA[guru]
Republic of Indonesia (Republik Indonesia) - a state in South-East Asia, on the islands of the Malay Archipelago and the western part of the island. New Guinea(Irian-Jaya). In the north it borders with Malaysia, in the east - with Papua New Guinea, on the island of Timor - with East Timor.
Indonesia is the world's largest archipelago. It includes more than 13,676 islands: 5 main and 30 small archipelagos. The most large islands- New Guinea, Kalimantan (Borneo), Sumatra, Sulawesi (Celebes) and Java. The rest of the islands are much smaller. The country stretches 5120 km between the Asian mainland and Australia. The equator separates the Pacific and Indian Oceans here.
The ethnic composition of the population is Javanese, Sundans, Madurians, Badui, Tenggers, Malays of Indonesia, Balinese, Minangkabau, Ache, Banjars, Dayaks, Makassars, Boogie, Minahasians, Galela and others.
The majority of believers are Muslims (about 90%).
The Indonesian language belongs to the Indonesian branch of the Austronesian language family. Developed on the basis of the Malay language. Writing based on the Latin alphabet.
National motto: "Bhinneka Tunggal lka - Unity in diversity"
Anthem: "Indonesia Raya (Great Indonesia)"
Independence date 17 August 1945 (proclaimed)
December 27, 1949 (recognized) (from the Netherlands)
Official language: Indonesian
Capital Jakarta
Largest city Jakarta
Form of governmentRepublic
President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono
Territory
Total
% water surface 15th in the world
1 919 440 km²
4,85
Population
Total (2005)
Density 4th in the world
241 973 879 people
116 people / km²
Gdp
Total (2004)
Per capita 15th in the world
$ 801,432 million
3500 $
CurrencyIndonesian Rupee (IDR)
Internet domain. id
Calling code + 62
Time zonesUTC +7 ... +9

Answer from [guru]
Thailand, if I'm not mistaken.

Answer from Unixaix CATIA[guru]
Land of a Thousand Islands

Answer from Amorph morg[active]
There are two options))
Croatia and Canada

Answer from Irina[expert]
bermuda shorts, it seems.

Answer from Moscow Moscow[guru]

Answer from Irina[guru]

Answer from DORZ[guru]

Answer from Irina[expert]
bermuda shorts, it seems.

Answer from Moscow Moscow[guru]
most likely PHILLIPINES or INDONESIA

Answer from Irina[guru]
Indonesia. The Republic of Indonesia is the largest island nation in the world. According to the latest data, Indonesia includes 18,108 islands, of which about 1000 have a permanent population.

Answer from DORZ[guru]
KRABI - the most beautiful province of Southern Thailand - a country of 1000 islands, discovered by the great Sinbad - a brave sailor and adventurer

Answer from Amorph morg[active]
There are two options))
Croatia and Canada

Answer from Valentina Smirnova (Akhmatova)[guru]
Thailand, if I'm not mistaken.

Answer from Unixaix CATIA[guru]
Land of a Thousand Islands
The tower clock showed exactly 11.40. Surprised, I glanced at my wristwatches: 19.10. Mentally she quipped: "The city of happy people - they don't watch the clock." The guide, guessing, apparently, my bewilderment, said: "This clock stopped during the earthquake in 1667". Under the motionless arrows on the narrow white-stone streets, life was seething, mixing the centuries.
You must enter old Dubrovnik through the Pyla gate, a semicircular tower with a sculpture of the patron saint of the city - St. Vlaha. His gilded statue - Vlach holding a model of the city before the earthquake - stands in the altar of the church that bears the name of the saint. The steps in front of her, polished with millions of feet, have long been inhabited by tourists. In the evenings, music thunders here. A pulsing laser, tracing bizarre figures in the dark sky, now and then stumbles over ancient walls. The sharp beam freezes for a second, dissolving in the dim light of the ancients, like the walls, lanterns. Materialized connection of times ...
Surprisingly, it was in Croatia that I felt the absolute concreteness of this concept, somewhat worn out from frequent use. In small towns scattered along the Adriatic coast, behind blind shutters that tightly close the loopholes, people live in fortress houses that have retained their unchanged appearance since ancient times and received the status of architectural monuments. The children, deprived of any piety in relation to the gray-haired antiquity, jump in the "classics" drawn on the stone pavements of the 17th century. Like many centuries ago, the heavy doors of the shop are opened, filled with a variety of goods - local and overseas.
We, a group of journalists, were invited to Croatia by the Moscow travel company "Danvita", which has chosen this country on the Adriatic as one of its main directions of activity. To be more precise, that part of it that is called Dalmatia, while less than others mastered by the Russian tourism business.
By the way, Croatia is a country with old tourist traditions. Historical chronicles store information that the first hotel for merchants and other visiting business people was built in Dubrovnik in the 16th century. However, the real tourist boom began in the 19th century with the massive construction of railways. In 1840, the first tourist hotel was built in Opatija, Istria, on the largest peninsula of the Adriatic Sea. And Croatia was flooded with its closest neighbors - Austrians and Hungarians, who were the first to appreciate the healing local climate, the beauty of nature, the possibilities of varied and healthy recreation. Everyone is at ease here - modern Robinsons, dreaming of solitude (they say, even if the country is flooded with vacationers, they will not be cramped: for everyone there will be a personal cove or an island, where any boatman will willingly deliver "from the mainland" on a cheap basis), climbers and yachtsmen who dream about the "elastic wind", lovers of scuba diving and fertile thermal springs. And, of course, gourmets - the best varieties of fish (and there are about 400 species of them in the local waters), lobsters, oysters are put on the table fresh, bypassing the refrigerator.
Croatia is a country where you want to return. The reason, perhaps, is in harmony and beauty, which for some reason turned out to be beyond the control of the tough century of scientific and technological progress.

Answer from 1 [active]
Such old can be called Greece, Thailand, Indonesia and a couple of three other countries