2.Just after the Christmas two years ago, Jack and Liza decided to go away for New Year. They didn’t want to stay in a hotel with crowds of people and they were delighted when they saw an advertisement in the Sunday Times for a holiday flat in a village near Oxford. It was no ordinary flat. It was on the top floor of an old Tudor mansion. They booked it and on New Year’s Eve they set off in the car. It was raining and freezing cold. They were happy and excited. They had been driving for three hours when they saw the house in the distance. It looked magnificent with tall chimneys and a long, wide drive. They drove up to the huge front door, went up the steps, and knocked. Nothing happened. They knocked again. The door opened and a small, wild-looking old lady stood there. She was so thin and bent, she had long, straggly grey hair, and dirty old torn clothes. She asked them to come in and they followed her. The house was so old and dark and dirty. There were cats everywhere. In the rooms all the furniture was broken and there were no curtains. There was no heating and there was only one power point. So you could either have the television, or the lamp, but you couldn’t have more than one. So what did they do? They just ran! When they got outside again the rain had turned to snow. They ran to the car hysterically laughing. They drove to the next village and as midnight was striking, they found a hotel with a room for the night. “Happy New Year!” cried Jack, as he kissed the surprised receptionist on both cheeks. “You have no idea how beautiful your hotel is!”
I live on the very edge of Siberia in Omsk, it is very cold here in winter and very hot in summer. The climate here is sharply continental.
Abrupt changes in weather, sharp winds are constantly observed, but last summer a huge spherical monument, which stands on the embankment, was demolished from a hurricane, and there was significant destruction in the city.
Our city has a lot of interesting things, and if you come, I can show a lot. In the very heart, in the center of the city, there is a fire tower, at the top of which a monument to the fireman stands day and night. On the main street of Lenin, and earlier it was called Lyubinsky Avenue, a monument to a girl named Lyuba sits on the street both in winter and in summer.
She is very beautiful and all tourists always take pictures with her, because this is one of the main attractions.
Also in Omsk there are many museums, theaters and parks. One of my favorite and largest: Victory Park. In spring this is one of the most charming places in the city, because white and black swans fly to the Irtysh, which is, however, strange, given our climate.
We have a beautiful city, probably one of the primordially beautiful cities in Russia, once upon a time Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky himself lived here, like the Decembrists with their wives. Soon Omsk will be 300 years old and the celebration will be grandiose! I'll be waiting for you. Bye. Olya.
to stay in a hotel with crowds of people and they were delighted when they saw an advertisement in the
Sunday Times for a holiday flat in a village near Oxford.
It was no ordinary flat. It was on the top floor of an old Tudor mansion. They booked it and on New
Year’s Eve they set off in the car. It was raining and freezing cold. They were happy and excited.
They had been driving for three hours when they saw the house in the distance. It looked magnificent
with tall chimneys and a long, wide drive. They drove up to the huge front door, went up the steps, and
knocked. Nothing happened. They knocked again. The door opened and a small, wild-looking old lady
stood there.
She was so thin and bent, she had long, straggly grey hair, and dirty old torn clothes. She asked them to
come in and they followed her. The house was so old and dark and dirty. There were cats everywhere.
In the rooms all the furniture was broken and there were no curtains. There was no heating and there
was only one power point. So you could either have the television, or the lamp, but you couldn’t have
more than one. So what did they do? They just ran!
When they got outside again the rain had turned to snow. They ran to the car hysterically laughing. They
drove to the next village and as midnight was striking, they found a hotel with a room for the night.
“Happy New Year!” cried Jack, as he kissed the surprised receptionist on both cheeks. “You have no idea
how beautiful your hotel is!”
I live on the very edge of Siberia in Omsk, it is very cold here in winter and very hot in summer. The climate here is sharply continental.
Abrupt changes in weather, sharp winds are constantly observed, but last summer a huge spherical monument, which stands on the embankment, was demolished from a hurricane, and there was significant destruction in the city.
Our city has a lot of interesting things, and if you come, I can show a lot. In the very heart, in the center of the city, there is a fire tower, at the top of which a monument to the fireman stands day and night. On the main street of Lenin, and earlier it was called Lyubinsky Avenue, a monument to a girl named Lyuba sits on the street both in winter and in summer.
She is very beautiful and all tourists always take pictures with her, because this is one of the main attractions.
Also in Omsk there are many museums, theaters and parks. One of my favorite and largest: Victory Park. In spring this is one of the most charming places in the city, because white and black swans fly to the Irtysh, which is, however, strange, given our climate.
We have a beautiful city, probably one of the primordially beautiful cities in Russia, once upon a time Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky himself lived here, like the Decembrists with their wives. Soon Omsk will be 300 years old and the celebration will be grandiose! I'll be waiting for you. Bye. Olya.