This is Bukrin, an inexhaustible sourse for mines, shells and the best place for campings.
Below is from modern history. In the 1990's these were the homes of
rich people. Today the owners are in jail and homes are left standing
unfinished. One day,
their owners have been prosperous people who thought the success would
last forever... but then, the politics and economic situations changed
and every time when it happens the skinny crows coming to power to eat
the fat ones.
We have many such houses in neighbourhood, whole villages.
We call them the burials of money. They are from time when Soviet Union
collapsed and many became rich quick and then fell in flames...
This one located in a beautiful place, on some of the hills of
Bukrin battle and look like a memorial to me. The memorial of people
hopes for better life. In this country a rich people will never be safe.
That’s me in the middle with the guitar, serenading my friends Alex and Max. They help me dig.
Guys love our camping trips and it is not my singing that attract them. I'm the worst singer in the world, when it’s time for late guests to leave, my kind of singing comes in handy. I believe, guys love two things in our camping life, first is digging itself and second is my cooking. I may not be a gourmet chef, but my cooking is good. Once, someone joined us and obsessed with glattony gained 20 kgs in two weeks. He would have gained more, but our food supply was over so I sang to him.