Thus a Russian girl of about seventeen in a loud, raspy voice in preparation of yet another snapshot of her family on the hotel terrace. And the family is far from small. Now it is her parents, and now her mother and her aunt. Then it is her father with her boyfriend, and her boyfriend with her uncle. “One, two, three.” When they mercifully depart from the terrace, I can still hear the same loud, raspy voice from the town walls. From the upper square. From the archway leading to the lower square. “One, two, three.” What a girl!