Murmansk Hotels with Wifi

Good value for money, great location, 24-hour supermarket just 100 meters away. Easy to get a taxi. The rent is simple, but there's a shared kitchen and bathroom… However, communication is difficult at the beginning, mostly with Russian aunties 🤣

The platinum lights of the yacht have pierced the twilight when the blue Marmara sea is soaked. The moment of boarding, the salty sea breeze mixed with the sweetness of the champagne bubble, rolled the fragrance of the white grapes on the deck, the white grapes hanging next to the ice bucket, the peel wrapped in fine ice crystals, like just picked from the star. The yacht was wider than expected, the teak deck was warmer, the bar stood behind rows of bottles, and the amber whiskey swung in the light. The waiter shuttled on a silver plate, the grilled lobster tails were covered with lemon slices, and the oily duck's oily fragrance spread across the cabin. Find a window seat, just bite a white grape, sweet and sour juice in the tongue in the moment of bursting, the violin sound will overflow. The piano teacher pulled the ”love praise” in the corner, the gentleness of the bow strings rubbing, just in time to close with the rhythm of the waves beating the hull. The couple in the next seat touched a cup, the crystal cup collided with the crisp sound, and the sound of the piano fell into the water. Suddenly a drum burst open, the woman in the red dance skirt swirled to the center, the hips swinging violently with the darbuka drum, the silver jingle, the skirt swung out of the fire-like arc. People who were still immersed in the violins were clapping their hands and shouting, and even the waiter could not help shaking his shoulders. The belly dance frenzy had not yet faded, and the waiter had brought dessert. When the chocolate lava cake was cut, the heart was like a thick night, and the refreshing white grapes were swallowed up, like a summer night. Turning your head outside the window, the lights on both sides of the bank have become a flowing river. I can't tell whether it is the minarets of Istanbul or the villages on the Asian shore. I remember that countless lights were soaked in the water and were rubbed into broken gold by the ripple waves. The boat passed, the tail shattered a starfish light, and was slowly smoothed by the waves. I couldn't remember how much wine I had drunk. When I left, the piano master changed his tune, and the belly dancers laughed and the sea breeze was entangled. Half a bunch of white grapes were still in his hand, and the cold peel was on the palm. Looking back, the yacht's lights shrunk a little behind, like stars left on the sea, and the lights on both sides of the Straits are still continuous, obviously extinguished, like who has just the violin sound, drums and laughter, all stringed into a string of lights, hanging in the sky. Some nights do not need to be remembered. Just like the waves of the Marmara Sea, the Badger is responsible for shaking all the good into a halo, leaving the sweetness of white grapes on the tip of the tongue, and the unfinished piano sound in the ear.

It is quite satisfactory. It will be inconvenient to take a bath because it is separated outside, but the overall is OK, the price is not very high.