A few more years passed, and Nikolai Ivanovich, being already a student of the Geological University, answered his long-standing question as follows:"All this is done for the sake of tourists, which at the moment we are."
That is why he came to the conclusion that the role of a tourist should be fully fulfilled. And even if his answer is wrong, then traveling around the world is at least an interesting activity. It's one thing to watch travel programs on TV, it's quite another thing to know for yourself how things are on this or that side of the world. In addition, scientific expeditions made it possible to learn the state of foreign affairs literally from the inside.
Nikolai Ivanovich managed to visit a lot of places, he managed to see and experience a lot of things. There were many funny cases over the years of fruitful favorite work, where without it, there were also tragic episodes. Loyal and not-so-loyal friends, two not-so-simple marriages, an adult child in the capital. Life as a whole turned out well. But the years were taking their toll. My health was no longer the same, although my wealth still allowed me to ride around the world, and my interest began to gradually fade. White, black, and yellow sands have not surprised the wise life experience of Nikolai Ivanovich for a long time. Europe, America, Africa and Australia have become almost native. He even visited the North Pole once, but before he could really understand what was going on, the expedition was urgently returned back to St. Petersburg, which was not the hometown of Nikolai Ivanovich. Something went wrong, and the details of the expedition were never revealed. In addition, as Nikolai Ivanovich learned much later, all the documents on that trip to the icy mainland went to the archive under the heading "top secret". That was all he knew.
There were many blank spots in its history, but the thought of the past was interrupted by the whistle of the boiling kettle. Ivanitch tore his eyes away from the Pansies that were swaying in the wind outside the window and hurried to turn off the stove. The whistling of the kettle gradually died away. But it was replaced by the clatter of the front doorbell.
The landlord looked at his watch; it was a quarter to two. It was daylight outside, but it was rather gloomy. Outside, the rain was beginning to fall. The doorbell rang again. The guests clearly did not want to stand the pause of etiquette. By the time Ivanitch reached the door and clicked the shutter, the bell had already rung a couple of times in the house.