Not being patient enough to wait up for the warm days, we gave up to the growing urge and went to observe the next part of our land’s forlorn beauty.
The short route had been chosen, but it came out to be tricky in the end)))
The first thing we found was the fact that the assphalt had been gone just as the snow had… Naturally, it was hard to expect anything else. However, the snow wasn’t gone everywhere, and that was the fact we weren’t ready for.

The first part of the program was to visit some ruins in Petropavlivka village.
So we arrived to the necessary turn, and realized that it wasn’t there))) That is, no one had obviously been there since the snow had fallen. The snow level was way above the rooftop – literally. The tyres were regular; there was no ram – so there was no way for us to go through))).
The existing road led to another village and we decided to ask around – and maybe find the alternative road to Petropavlivka; the google maps stated that there was one way only. We were very curious – was it a “dead village”, or would we find some hermits there?)))
In the end the available village wasn’t much better))) We took the slow pace around it, stopped, knocked on the doors and windows, but no one responded and no one walked out.. There were only dogs barking – so the dark thriller associations were inevitable)).
At the end of the village (which consisted of about 5 or 7 yards) we happened to see some man walking towards us. So we used our chance to ask about the way to Petropavlivka.
“I don’t know”, – he said. “I am the beekeper. Now, the men – they do know”. There came the question about the difference between beekepers and men; and the following one – where could we possibly miss any of them around.
We turned back – and yep! – there they were, indeed; they stood like marmots – one man near every yard))).
So we learned from the marmot men that the road does exist, but requires taking quite a bit of a side-off – about 60 or 70 kilometers. So we decided we didn’t really want to visit Petropavlivka that much))).
The next point was – the 1910 Dimitry Solunsky Church in Katerynivka village.
On the way there we were lucky to meet a pack of large feathered predators. I don’t know the exact name(((. The photo-hunt took quite a while; the birds would get scared (somehow lazily, though) and circled above the road while finishing their lunch:

We came to Katerynivka and the adventures began)))
Apart from the church we found the whistling-hissing sound of the air getting through a self-tapping screw top)

Just the same as in Bobrove, the building here was falling apart and the locals we met were confident about the impossibility of it being saved. They said it was to their pity, but it would have been better to demolish it and to re-build it again after.
We will leave the level of professionalism in the terms of re-construction without comments, but it was somewhat scary to walk inside, indeed.

Luckily, the problem with the tyre was not so sad as the church visit “aftertaste”. We replaced the tyre, but decided to find some tyre-fitting service and fix it – the disks differed, and so did the tyres (the difference was not drastic, but still).

And, naturally, the services were just about everywhere! Just kidding.
We were forced to head off to Burluck – there happened to be at least one of them. And we didn’t lose much time.
Next we planned to visit the Gnilitsya Pervaya (the first) village. The place we were looking for was the Church of John the Baptist, built between 1905 and 1912.

Now, the thing was rather strange – with an odious touch. The bright green was far from being a joy to one’s eyes, the ancient stones were thrown around everywhere. It seemed that the restoration process had been started; we did not manage to take a look inside, though. So there were no other impressions except a few plastic loophole-windows…

The following spot to visit was the Church of the Intercession of the Holy Virgin in Gnilitsya village. All we know about the date of construction – is that it was “not earlier than 1812”. It is very curious to know – did they argue over the matter of who was to be counted “the first”?))
The road kept granting us with surprises – the sun was shining over the little river’s surface, the rest of the snow tunnel played with all the colours of the spring coming, and the birds singing could be heard despite the tightly shut windows.
I have no idea how the locals manage to move around, but our way resembled the one of a drunken silly mouse.
We followed the map route until the snow field. We turned back to the road crossing, and tried another road until the soaking black soil part; we turned back once again while the navigator was pointing his finger into the window and stating: “this field – is the road number one, this ravine is the road number two…”
In the end of those mouse wandering efforts the alternative way was finally located)))
We even managed to arrive to the next spot before the dark hours))

So there was a cube on the hill, a tiny river flowing nearby… Some idyllic view it was; the only disruption of it was the Patrick driving up and down the hill just to avoid boredom.

There was absolutely nothing interesting overthere((. We walked around, filmed it and headed off home. The way back did not grant us with any adventures, which we were absolutely happy about))))