On my recent world trip with my aging but enthusiastic neighbour Edna Ross, whose enthusiasm waned somewhat when she discovered we would be sharing accommodation.
On our second day, we visited the museum of Upper Slobyabib. To our dismay there appeared only one entrance, which demanded NO ENTRY in large letters. Our map indicated another entry point, but it was hidden behind a souvenir shop.
Once inside, the museum was magnificent. The Republic of Upper Slobyabib was an ancient republic with a history going back a long way.
Edna was fascinated by the traditional costumes having been a seamstress in her younger days.
We found it difficult to find the exit, and after much investigation found it hidden behind the 16th Century exhibition of battle implements.
Back at our hotel, I was subjected to Edna’s photo record of our visit. This was something I was to bear for the rest of our trip.