On the island of Olkhon, as soon as the sun sets behind the marble mountains, small flying insects called vultures come together from all over the world. And they cling to you from head to toe, that there is no clearance. Especially unpleasant when biting a face. I don’t use mosquito repellent and as soon as the night went down I applied the usual starlet on my forehead, for whiskey, on the chin and hands, to smell. And even on clothes (leaves yellow marks). And no mosquitoes tolerate this smell, no other insects. And so I climbed up a cliff, sat comfortably and thoroughly smeared with an asterisk. And suddenly I hear behind me the voices of travelers like me rising, who stood by and enthusiastically repeated “How wonderful it smells of nature!". I was already starting to talk about the star, to laugh together, but they so sucked in their noses, trying to blow all of Baikal in this smell, that I changed my mind to spoil their impression. I think, will come home, stumble upon an asterisk and it will remind them of Olkhon Island.