WHERE is Ira?

I know I should be writing about the e-mail I got a few days ago, but honestly, receiving that email has crossed a few boundaries and I need to think for a while. Meanwhile, I have returned to the first postcard. I can't believe I haven't thought about this before - especially because it was the first thing that caught my eye, before I even read Ira's message — but this morning, I looked at the postcard again and decided to try to track down the image. I want to know where Ira, Andrew and Philip went on their expedition, although in a way it’s dirty work, like looking in someone’s secret diary. After all, the version of me Ira is writing to, knows where she is already. So I’m spying on that version, flipping through my own diary, really. Which makes it kind of harmless.

Armed with the Cyrillian alphabet, Google and a few hints (rock, climbing, forest, Russia), I am fairly optimistic. I have no idea what заповедник "стольы" means yet, but we'll see.

The optimistic Ira.