Don Curry is at the White Sea

Don Curry still remembers that he initially thought the idea of ​​driving alone through Russia was pretty crazy. But the more he informed himself, weighed the possibilities and problems, and became more aware of the great artistic treasures that awaited discovery not so far away, his decision solidified: he would penetrate one of the very few countries in Europe that had not yet imposed itself on him. Now only Iceland, Cyprus, Moldova, and Belarus would wait for his visit - and possibly the Caucasian countries if they are considered part of Europe.

As the ultimate destination or turning point of his journey, Don Curry soon chose the Solovetsky Islands in the middle of the White Sea, the northernmost UNESCO World Heritage Site in Russia that was still relatively easily accessible. The distance didn't really scare him; he had already driven to Gibraltar by car. So his standard answer to the question of where he would go on vacation this year was always: "I'm traveling to the White Sea." The reaction was almost always the same: an understanding nod and then - a few seconds later - the question: "Huh? Where is the White Sea?" Don Curry would reach it today if everything went smoothly.

First, after a restful sleep, he reached the opulent breakfast buffet of the "Karelia" hotel: breakfast had increasingly taken on the character of an early lunch for him. So he started the culinary day with a hearty solyanka, then helped himself to the extensive salad bar, which also included cold slices of various kinds of roast, and finally ended with some Karelian pastries, all accompanied by enough coffee and cranberry juice.

He made his only stopover in Kondopoga, where he visited his first Russian supermarket - the beverage supply for the next few days had to be secured. The peach-cola zero from Lithuania had long been finished, and there wasn't much left of the watermelon-fanta zero from the same country. So Don Curry bought plenty of kvass and then also discovered the separate vodka/spirits section. He chose a birch sap vodka and went to the alcohol cashier with it. But the cashier didn't take the money, instead, he just sealed the bottle for security and sent Don Curry to the regular supermarket checkouts with an energetic gesture. The fact that the security seal led to a loud alarm when leaving the spirits section only annoyed Don Curry, nobody else. At the supermarket checkout, the security seal was removed again, which gave the cashier some trouble, and Don Curry still wonders about the sense of this action to this day.

The actual goal in Kondopoga should have been the famous "Entschlafungskirche", a magnificent wooden church from the 18th century located directly on Lake Onega. Don Curry had indeed read on Wikipedia that this church had burned down completely in 2018, but if he was passing by, he wanted to see for himself. He easily found the spot on Lake Onega, but the area was cordoned off. When Don Curry checked if the entrance gate was really locked, a man with a gloomy expression approached and sadly shook his head. In fact, Don Curry could see the blackened remains of the once significant church in the distance. Who would come to Kondopoga now?

Don Curry continued driving. Over 350 km from here. However, mostly on a well-developed road through endless birch forests and along large and small lakes.

But finally, the turnoff to Kem' was reached, then to Rabocheostrovsk, the small ferry port on the White Sea. The landscape had changed once again. More and more lichens covered rocks and trees, mighty mosses spread between the trees.

His journey came to an abrupt end at a barrier. While Don Curry checked on his smartphone how far he still had to drive after the barrier, the barrier guard approached. Don Curry showed him the name of his accommodation: "Prichal". The guard pointed to a building directly behind the barrier and muttered something like "reception".

And here he stood now: at the destination, at the endpoint, at the turning point. Don Curry stood at the White Sea, which presented itself to him as extremely gray in the starting drizzle. But at the same time, much seemed incredibly atmospheric and primal: the rocks on the shore worn flat by ice and waves, the drifting flotsam, the old lonely wooden church on the next headland.

All of this did not radiate picturesque, picturesque beauty, but something very special. Don Curry had fulfilled his crazy dream - without major problems. Surprisingly, he discovered another car with a German license plate from the Hanseatic City of Lübeck in Russia for the first time in the parking lot of the ferry terminal. So there were even more crazies like him.

Hungry, he went to the restaurant of his accommodation, ordered a dolonnitza fish soup, turkey patties with grilled vegetables and fries, plus a Krusovice to wash them down. Satisfied and content, he returned to his slightly cooled room and looked forward to the next day: a day in the middle of the White Sea!