‘What a heat!’ I thought approaching the park, ‘Also, these heavy bags. I need some rest.’ Sitting down on a park bench, I was eventually able to enjoy the beauty of Pskov: temples, monuments, well-groomed flower beds, cheerful children calling their parents to ride the merry-go-round. Watching the surroundings, I did not notice a man next to me. ‘How beautiful Detskiy park is in summer!’ ‘So, is this Detskiy park? I agree, it’s just awesome!’ ‘I see you’re not from around here.’ ‘You’re quite right. I’m from St. Petersburg.’ ‘Oh, the city of Peter the Great is fabulous. He put every bit of himself into developing it. By the way, he used to visit Pskov quite frequently.’ ‘Really? I’ve had no idea of it.’ ‘It was the period of the Northern War when we were preparing to repel the Swedes’ attack. The fleet had to be improved. So, Peter I turned to the Pskov’s craftsmen as they were skilled at making tough staples. In Pskov they were known as skobas. The Tsar decided to check the quality of the skobas himself. Believe it or not, Peter I was a man of remarkable strength and could easily unbend horseshoes. He tried to straighten one skoba but he failed in doing so. Then another one and another, all in vain. ‘Here are the Pskovites, here are the skobars!’ exclaimed the Tsar in amazement. Since then, the Russian fleet has been maintained with skobas from Pskov, and Pskovites have been called Skobars. I still remember being overfilled with pride and joy when Peter the Great could not unbend my skoba.’ ‘Your’ skoba? It happened more than three hundred years ago’, – I wanted to object, but when I turned around, I saw only a monument holding a horseshoe in one hand and a hammer in the other. ‘Well, I should have put on my hat’, I thought looking at the scorching sun.
