Our landlady avoided suffering the many intrusions into her home by pretending that they did not exist. Around her you had the feeling that you were mysteriously invisible, that is unless you had the misfortune to break one of her many contradictory house rules. Then she would suddenly become animated and let forth with a stream of reprimands, most of which were thankfully unintelligible.
However, on the morning of our leaving she metamorphised into a kindly, mother figure. Her only request was that we should recommend her lodgings to any other travellers we should meet. She even agreed to have her photograph taken in front of her establishment. With much straightening of clothes and futile attempts at pushing her straggling grey hair into place, she considered herself ready to be immortalised on film. We were then farewelled in the manner of ones she had taken to her heart. Sadly the film was exposed and consequently destroyed by Soviet security when we crossed the border from the Ukraine into Poland.
No comments:
Post a Comment