Excerpt from chapter:
"Did You Hear the One About the Russian Fleet?"
"... Although the city of Sevastopol stands near the site of the ancient Greek colony of Chersonesus, founded in 421 B.C., archeological finds in the area show people have lived in the region for tens of thousands of years, with traces of Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon settlements discovered on the outskirts of the city. Scholars believe Homer wrote about Balaklava bay in 800 B.C. in The Odyssey: 'When we reached the harbour we found it land-locked under steep cliffs, with a narrow entrance between two headlands.'
Our sightseeing excursion and traditional lunch made for a memorable visit to Sevastopol even though the others were unaware that I was inwardly distracted by an unshakable, unspeakable desire. I was dope-sick for Baklava pastry and embarrassed to admit it. After arriving back at the hotel, I slipped the doorman a handful of hryvnia for directions to the man. I needed to find the local drug pusher, peddler, connection, dealer before my withdrawal pangs got any worse. Sweating and in pain, I eventually found a small bakery on the west side of Artillery Bay, paid the ponce, and was taken to a dark dingy back room to have my way with a box of day old sheker keyeks. Oh! the shame. I hit rock bottom that day in my lust for the original and real baklava, which is refreshingly different from the popular Greek or Turkish varieties. European soldiers fighting the Crimean War in Sevastopol and neighboring Balaklav coined the term “Baklava” for the rich local pastry coated in honey. Eating the sweet, nut-filled treat is so fulfilling on so many levels that in some cultures I could probably be considered married to it.
Sated and happy, I then felt a moment of disgust and sticky shame. Back at the hotel in a post-ecstatic fugue, I took a long, hot shower and dressed for a late afternoon courtesy call at city hall ..."
