It’s raining in Novy Svet. Not a light drizzle either, nor a quick tropical shower. It’s thunder and lightning and a downpour that lasts for most of the day. A real storm. Horse trek into the mountains is cancelled. Boats are anchored away from the shore.
Crimea needs rain badly. The drought that struck the region for the last three years has damaged the land and hurt its people. So this rain is welcomed. And yet — somewhat feared.
Rain scares tourists. The beach-side promenade is deserted, and so are the shops and cafés along it.
Sipping a local red and a Turkish coffee while sitting in my spot, I feel like I have the whole town to myself. Almost. Here and there I see heads bobbing between the dark turquoise waves. There is no way to tell if they are locals or tourists, but either way, the rain doesn’t scare them. In fact, it seems to excite them. They dive, splash around, do laps across the lagoon. I concede, there is something romantic and daring about the experience.
I love rain, but not with such wild abandon. For now, I am staying on drier ground.