CHAPTER 8

      Saint Nicholas Cathedral

      A mountain road is rising up to the clouds, the sound of hard rain in the ears. Relaxation. Everybody’s staring around: rocks, few abandoned houses and a fell-into-decay hut, where an old couple arranged a souvenir market and toilet for tourists. The toilet was so insanitary that people preferred to use the grass around, while an old German couple decided to endure till the next stop.

      Mom and daughter are happy to spend much time together. They go out to buy something and take pictures, rain beating against their faces, they are just laughing in return. Nadezhda is splendoring with a traditional Turkish fez on, Grethen takes few shots with a tall mountain in the background.

      Saint Nicholas cathedral is situated in Demre.

      The country is sinking in fog and coolness.

      – It’s forbidden to trade here!!! Immediately pay the price offered by the seller!!! – screams the guide with a deterrent tone. – Such things are sacred!

      Fake-silver icons become obliterated displaying pink copper a year later. Business. Eventually, after having dragged the flock of sheep, oops sorry – the tourists, through the souvenir shops, the guide, a former Russian teacher named Natasha, leads them inside the cathedral, the place where a kind-hearted man Nicholas used to serve sufferers and made great deeds. There is an unpretentious house located few meters lower than the ground level around. They go inside, all is in darkness, only the altar is sprinkled by the beams of the sun rising from behind the clouds and percolating through the narrow windows. The guide brakes the silence and starts talking about Likia – this is the name of the country which was there long ago.

      – In the first millennium BC this area was notable for an original culture it had. Later was invaded by Alexander the Great, by the Romans and the Turks, none the less keeping the autonomy, being a part of the Empires. The largest in the antiquity city and the center of Lycia Xanthos was situated on the like named river, originating in the Taurus Mountains.

      The land here is fertile: Lycians provided themselves with wine, bread and other products typical of Asia Minor.

      Talking about the cultural heritage, which remained from those times, tomb-monuments carved in the rocks were perfectly preserved.

      And now about the church itself, which is here in Myra Demre in Turkey. In the fourth century the bishop of the city in ancient times known as Myra was Nicholas. Here he was buried in a marble sarcophagus.

      After the death of St. Nicholas a church was built in his honor, but an earthquake reduced it to ruins. Then a basilica was erected here, but it was destroyed, this time by the Arabs.

      –Let's go back to Nicholas. You all know, of course, that the prototype of Santa Claus is

      Nicholas.

      Margarita had no idea that the country with the famous all-inclusive had the Orthodox shrine, and in general was confident that St. Nicholas had been Russian!

      – He was born in a wealthy family. In early age the boy believed in the teachings of Christ thanks to his servant. Throughout his life Nikolai was preaching Christianity.

      Being a man of good and fair, worked goodness. Prayed for fishermen leaving for the sea … Helped the poor and the sick, loved children.

      In the church at Myra in Lycia, here, where we are standing now, to this day services are rarely conducted. Let's put our crosses onto the altar, so that they would embrace the grace of the place.

      The tourists laid down their crosses, and as if waiting only for this, a muezzin suddenly began to sing in the mountains thunderously, doing the worshiping service, pronouncing the people’s requests and thoughts to his God. Isn’t it a miracle, to hear a beautiful voice out of nowhere in the fells? That’s the God's blessing.

      – Well, that's it? Come on, Greta! – Nadezhda is bustling.

      – Hold on, Mom, let me stay here. I calm down among these walls …

      Margarita was wandering about the holy place for a long time, admiring the remains of mosaic floors and freschi.

      Coming out of the basilica, Margo sees a strange picture: father and mother standing in the center of the dilapidated patio, and there is a flock of cats around them. It is amazing how these animals identified the most sick people from all the crowds of tourists and surrounded them. Cats were purring and rubbing the legs of the two disabled, Father stroked them, Mother had a puzzled smile.

      Some "ruffled" woman runs up to

      Greta's mother.

      – Come on, you have to prostrate yourself in front of the sarcophagus!

      Nadia is frightened, but she insists.

      – Pray and get well!

      Somehow, being held from both sides by hands, with shouts of fear to break a leg, which is tucked clumsily not wanting to get up on one knee, mother finally falls to the ground.

      After a hearty lunch there was a sail on the yacht on the schedule.

      – You are the first tourists in my memory, which were able to put to sea in January!

      Shower is beating with large drops on oilcloth ceiling of a boat resembling a yacht, which is thrown from side to side like a paper boat.

      Boris suffers from indigestion after gluttony, clutching a new icon in the pocket. Mom feels good: she

      never