[Тамара]

And here is the story of 60-s associated with Tarusa (my illustration, modern).

    "In the 60 years of a cruel winter, the first time I was in the house of creativity" Senezh. "Ibid turned and Yuri Milk.
In house creative graphics doing lithography, and I alone knew about forty pieces of lithographs by Marc Chagall, which he presented to the Cabinet engravings of the Pushkin Museum. Most artists were from the provinces, and they wanted to see the wizard and the sway of Moscow, despite the frost, take note. Was fused a special bus, and we got into engravings cabinet, and then parted, agreeing to meet at six. At six in the evening we all gathered at the bus, Yuri portage large and heavy suitcase, which we barely pulled into the bus. "What is it?" - I asked. "Books" - replied milk - "Suppose they will live with me Senezh."
         In the midst of an old bus breaks down naturally, and we find ourselves in a clean dark field, freezing, of course, death. The chauffeur had finally managed to stop a bus with poluvybitym glass, closed a carton, which has agreed to the same, we take. There was nothing, and we decided that it was better to tolerate the cold, but still move forward.
On arrival all rushed into the dining room to drink hot tea and a cold cutlet, and I dragged my suitcase into the room, Yuri Alexandrovich, gathering, then, to join the company. But the owner said that after the experienced we can "get sick and die" and opened the suitcase with the tomes, which was lying comfortably in the corner half a liter. Yuri opened it, poured two state faceted glass almost to the brim and we are busily, like medicine, drank the contents. Thus began our acquaintance.
         After we were friends houses, and one day, by agreement, left to Tarusa visit our children in Pionerlager. By that time I often have been in Tarusa and knew the road from the camp along the Oka River to the tomb of Borisov-Musatov. We navoshischalis headstone Matveeva and sat on a bench, admiring the scenery, too. But first a little purple cloud rapidly turned into a huge purple blot. I assumed that we are now obolyut and be ticking, but Yuri nowhere fuss. He never fussed, except that in the post-war Leningrad, where he was a cyclist and any competitions ahead of everyone, and the pavement rushing "let liquid, Click.
       Rain covered us with his head, and we are running down the hill from the church, were in the restaurant. Now Tarusa a lot of entertainment, but then there was one provincial restaurant, which was again delivered a historic phrase that we can "get sick and die." We had to drink vodka and eat fried roach is that it is very cheap and very tasty. Curious Molok immediately found that fish from the Oka, and deliver them to local residents. Later, when the storm passed, we found ourselves on the pier (it was two or three boards, which pestered Shipping). They discovered we ourselves in the company of men who shared with us the port, and then we shared with them, who had taken it from port, and the peasants quickly dubbed Yuri Alexandrovich "Kolya," which he apparently enjoyed. He had already arranged to fish net somewhere on the beach in the juxtaposition of some one of the peasants known lakes. As a result, we nearly missed the only one in those years, slack bus "Tarusa-Moscow". Now Tarusa at least hundreds of taxis and a number of pubs. One of them - cafes Oka exactly at the place of our historic seat of milk. "

Photo by Sergey Tartakovsky