'When God was handing out land to different peoples, ethnic Abkhaz in this time hosted and late, and when he came and told everything to God, he gave him for his hospitality and honesty, and gave a piece of heavenly paradise, which made for himself "- Samvel said the hospitable host. Abkhazia met us with an evening orange sun. As long as we sped from the airport of Adler in New Athos, I heard the legend of Abkhazia and looked around: the mysterious sea of color, the sun, slowly setting over the horizon, the mountains, whose peaks wrapped a thick haze, high powerful trees swaying in the wind. New Athos was not what I expected: the wooden old houses, bathed in tangerine plantations a lonely old man, wandering along the road, driving pale yellow cow. But now for the next sharp turn in full swing with might and main night life: cars speeding along the roads, colorful local gossip aunt in the stall, on a small embankment gradually flaniruyut small flocks of tourists from Russia. It is the center of New Athos. And then again, turn and instead of modern houses grow eucalyptus trees, the street bustle disappears. The air becomes viscous circle quiet, barely audible distant chiming bells, we are in the suburbs.

Gravel under the wheels rustle – that house Samvel. His son, Anton, greeted us, grabbing nearly all the luggage, rattling and cursing silently, escorted us into the room. Not unpacked, pile on the bed and fall asleep in this heroic sleep, feeling light intoxication mountain air.

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