After visiting the beautiful Crimea, I took the night train back to Kiev, where I spent a few more days writing and hanging out with very kind Ukraineans. My plan was to go hitchhiking to the Netherlands to celebrate Christmas with my family. Since I had good experiences fetching a ride up north, I thought it would be easy to get back west. But it was cold and rainy, and Bratislava, Vienna, and the other potential cities on my way wouldn't be so attractive this time of the year, and neither would the Carpatian and Tatra mountains. So I checked the internet and found a cheap flight from Katowice to Eindhoven (40 km from my family), with Wizz air, Hungary's cheap airline, and decided to go.
I had to take an overnight train to Lviv first, which left at 23:58 and arrived there at 10:30 in the morning. It cost me about 8 €. That night was the first time that I met no other people on the train, and just took the provided linen out of the plastic and laid my head down on the upper bunk bed, as always. Couldn't sleep though, and was quite tired when I arrived in Lviv.
Lviv (Lvov in Russian) is an interesting city. It used to be Polish, but
I walked around; the center was near the classicist train station, and I had the impression that a Russian town was blended with and a Polish settlement. Some houses reminded me of Krakow and Gdansk, the parks and boulevards (the main Prospekt) were just like their counterparts in Russia's metropoles. I didn't have much time though, to explore this interesting city, because I had to take the Mashrutka to the avtoboksal (autobus station). Fellow travelers: it takes about 40 minutes and you might have to wait for a less crowded bus, so take your time. The bus to Katowice was late, and I had a conversation about the family of an older Ukrainean couple, that could have been taken right from my Russian coursebook. They went to visit their daughter who was a medic in Edinburgh. Yes we share the same world.
Showing posts with label Kiev. Show all posts.
Kiev #2. A walk through the city.
Another day spent writing in a kitchen, drinking cinnamon tea and concentrating on the narrative of my book. Life's good. In the evening we went to the center (the apartment I stayed in was half an hour by maschrutka or minibus from the historical Kiev) for a walk. We saw the churches and buildings of the Lavra-complex, and crossed huge park areas, that form a semicircle around the old town. We passed the home of Dynamo Kiev, and a bridge of love, full of keylocks loving couples had put there. All of this year, since the bridge had to be freed of its weight from earlier times.
Under an artificial rainbow, Brian joined us and we had some bread and fish we bought in a supermarket, and we drank beer. Just like in Berlin. We took the maschrutka home and said goodnight.
The next morning I helped moving piano parts for another guy who was repairing on old piano just the time I stayed there. Making myself useful felt great. After breakfast I took the maschrutka to the center again, and went inside the beautiful Lavra. It was possible to visit the tombs of some orthodox saints, and I went down with a curious mind and a thin candlelight between my fingers. Most visitors take the holyness of the remains resting there very seriously, and press tender kisses upon the glass covers of the sarcophagus. I respected their behaviour very much, and did not make a sound. The atmosphere was a bit strange down there. The various saints were lying in different parts of a maze-like complex of corridors and halls, and people passed them slowly, crossing themselves and kissing the glass covers. It remained in my memory for one reason or another.
The view from the Lavra was amazing. On the other side of the Dnjepr I could see rows of apartment buildings, standing grey and very ugly. But what a view the must have - the Lavra with its merrily curved golden domes.
Then I walked some more, alongside the river and then into town. I visited a market where apples, honey, fish, nuts were abundant. I managed to bought five times 100 grams of different nuts and fruits, by using some common phrases and pointing at it. So apricots, walnuts, peanuts and dates relieved my immediate hunger, and I continued walking some less touristic streets of old Kiev (did I mention the city is older than Moscow. It has a moving history, too).
Until the evening I wrote in the same place I did the other day, and met Helena. We visited a modern Art Gallery with some interesting works of photography and some weird film installations. Then we walked on and sat down for a while on one of the seven hills Kiev has been built on. After what I'd seen, I reckon it deserves the nickname "Rome of the east" indeed. In a self-service restaurant we had a good and healthy meal.
The next days were even more lazy. We went for a short walk through the forest behind the house one time, and bought some color for the piano on another occasion. There was a party where some friend musicians played guitar, drums. We saw the "Ten Minutes Older" short movie series, which I can recommend to everybody. I made some pie with potatoes and cabbage. I don't remember any more daunting stories; sorry.
But there are a few funny Russian rhymes I picked up and I publish them here for my Russian speaking friends:
Under an artificial rainbow, Brian joined us and we had some bread and fish we bought in a supermarket, and we drank beer. Just like in Berlin. We took the maschrutka home and said goodnight.
The next morning I helped moving piano parts for another guy who was repairing on old piano just the time I stayed there. Making myself useful felt great. After breakfast I took the maschrutka to the center again, and went inside the beautiful Lavra. It was possible to visit the tombs of some orthodox saints, and I went down with a curious mind and a thin candlelight between my fingers. Most visitors take the holyness of the remains resting there very seriously, and press tender kisses upon the glass covers of the sarcophagus. I respected their behaviour very much, and did not make a sound. The atmosphere was a bit strange down there. The various saints were lying in different parts of a maze-like complex of corridors and halls, and people passed them slowly, crossing themselves and kissing the glass covers. It remained in my memory for one reason or another.
The view from the Lavra was amazing. On the other side of the Dnjepr I could see rows of apartment buildings, standing grey and very ugly. But what a view the must have - the Lavra with its merrily curved golden domes.
Then I walked some more, alongside the river and then into town. I visited a market where apples, honey, fish, nuts were abundant. I managed to bought five times 100 grams of different nuts and fruits, by using some common phrases and pointing at it. So apricots, walnuts, peanuts and dates relieved my immediate hunger, and I continued walking some less touristic streets of old Kiev (did I mention the city is older than Moscow. It has a moving history, too).
Until the evening I wrote in the same place I did the other day, and met Helena. We visited a modern Art Gallery with some interesting works of photography and some weird film installations. Then we walked on and sat down for a while on one of the seven hills Kiev has been built on. After what I'd seen, I reckon it deserves the nickname "Rome of the east" indeed. In a self-service restaurant we had a good and healthy meal.
The next days were even more lazy. We went for a short walk through the forest behind the house one time, and bought some color for the piano on another occasion. There was a party where some friend musicians played guitar, drums. We saw the "Ten Minutes Older" short movie series, which I can recommend to everybody. I made some pie with potatoes and cabbage. I don't remember any more daunting stories; sorry.
But there are a few funny Russian rhymes I picked up and I publish them here for my Russian speaking friends:
Kiev #1. мистер снек.
The trainride was comfortable, and the other three guys on the bunk beds in my compartment were very friendly. They offered me some cold chicken for dinner. We spoke in some kind of Russian-English that I came to like as the train rushed to the Ukrainean border. We went to bed, only to sleep a few hours. The border crossing was not spectacular, but weary. Instead of being haressed and arrested by some Russian special forces, highly trained to recognize foreign travelers who don't register their stay or have other irregularities on their paperwork, and take them in to squeeze some good money out of them. Didn't happen. A friendly Russian lady just took my passport and gave it back after ten minutes, nodding that everything was fine. My fellow travelers congratulated me 'officially' and welcomed me to the Ukraine. After another hour however, the Ukrainean border control wanted to see my id, too. As I handed it to them, with a kind smile as always, one friendly uniformed man became suspicious, and looked to my photo and me, slowly nodding his head, then signaling me to come with him, to his colleague who was to give a second opinion. So it went through my head "what if they don't recognize me? What if I turn out to be a different person than the guy in the passport? But he was me, wasn't he? Yes, but he couldn't proof it. And the passport guy looked much younger than I did, too. So they'd take me to a cold prison cell, connect me to strange equipment and make me very sad."
...Fortunately, this colleague said yes, that's him. To cut the story short: if you travel to the Ukraine with an old passport (without fingerprint id) make sure your picture looks like you. Shave yourselves, for example, because that was of course what I had forgotten to do, and my ridiculous tourist beard gave the highly trained border guard a hard time in comparing me to my photograph.
So, Kiev. The climate was cool upon my arrival at 5am. Fortunately, we found a cafe where we had some breakfast. Then we parted, and I walked around the station, ate an apple for 1 griven (about 10 eurocents; the griven dropped during my stay), and went to the cafe again to write. The waitress would not allow me to sit without drinking more coffee than I could endure, and wanted to send me out. I gave h
er a concise English lecture on moral code and general hospitability, the coffeehouse rules and a codex of courtesy principles every human being should obey, which of course was buried unattendedly in the cafe rumours. I thus let it be, and went outside.
The morning grew older, and I decided to take the metro to the center. There are only three lines, and the system is similar to Moscow, so I felt comfortable with it right away. I bought a blue chip to enter the system (price: 2 griven; a few weeks ago it was 1/2 griven. Anyone remember the last fourfold rise in public transportation fares in the Western World? Exactly). I got off near the Maydan, the central square, in the most expensive shopping district (all the fancy names were in the shopping windows). It had a touch of Paris, I felt. Anyway, my backpack began to feel heavy, and I stepped into мистер снек (mister snek) to have a sandwich and write.
...Fortunately, this colleague said yes, that's him. To cut the story short: if you travel to the Ukraine with an old passport (without fingerprint id) make sure your picture looks like you. Shave yourselves, for example, because that was of course what I had forgotten to do, and my ridiculous tourist beard gave the highly trained border guard a hard time in comparing me to my photograph.
So, Kiev. The climate was cool upon my arrival at 5am. Fortunately, we found a cafe where we had some breakfast. Then we parted, and I walked around the station, ate an apple for 1 griven (about 10 eurocents; the griven dropped during my stay), and went to the cafe again to write. The waitress would not allow me to sit without drinking more coffee than I could endure, and wanted to send me out. I gave h
er a concise English lecture on moral code and general hospitability, the coffeehouse rules and a codex of courtesy principles every human being should obey, which of course was buried unattendedly in the cafe rumours. I thus let it be, and went outside.The morning grew older, and I decided to take the metro to the center. There are only three lines, and the system is similar to Moscow, so I felt comfortable with it right away. I bought a blue chip to enter the system (price: 2 griven; a few weeks ago it was 1/2 griven. Anyone remember the last fourfold rise in public transportation fares in the Western World? Exactly). I got off near the Maydan, the central square, in the most expensive shopping district (all the fancy names were in the shopping windows). It had a touch of Paris, I felt. Anyway, my backpack began to feel heavy, and I stepped into мистер снек (mister snek) to have a sandwich and write.
Moscow #3. A Tsar Park and Stalin Towers.
My last day in Moscow had come; the train to Kiev was already booked (thanks to Ann!) and I had opted to see some more things in this amazing city. My original plan was to visit some cities of the golden ring, north east from Moscow, such as Suzdal and Vladimir, but I decided to skip that this time, due to the weather condition. But I'll be back...
First I took the metro to Tsarinskaya, a large park of the tsars, located a few miles south of the Red Square. It was very impressive and wide. Many Moscovites came here to walk with their children and it was peaceful. A handfull of classicist buildings were scattered in the huge area of the park, and I also enjoyed them. Inside there was an exhibition about Marlene Dietrich, which I skipped. I had lived 2 years within one block of her birth place, so it would have been interesting. But my Russian was still very poor.
After that I went to вднх ("vudinga"), another metro station where an array of pompou
s Stalinist buildings attracted some tourists like myself. I gazed at the monument for world's first astronaut, Yuri Gagarin in 1961, a bent thin concrete obelisk with a rocket on top of it. I walked through a gate resembling the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, but less sophisticated, and entered a typical Stalinist pyramid. I was surprised to find Disney and Pixar figures in front of it, and a shopping mall inside. I ate a blin (pancake) and wrote a couple of pages on a cup of bad coffee.
Mascha, my new host, cooked a very tasted rice-meal with seafood. I went to bed early...
... and woke up early to go to Kievskaya station, where my train to Kiev would leave. I sat down in a small cafe and took out my notebook, just as always. The intake of some coffee resulted in the output of a few pages written, but after an hour or so, the lady began to ask me to leave since I sat without consuming anything for too long. I ate some meat dish; it tasted not bad. I had a hard time ordering it, even after studying the menu I had to guess what I was going to get, but that was funny too, in a way.
I moved to a more luxurious place opposite the station. In a mall of several storeys with glass facades and coffee bars on different levels, I waited for Ann, who came to say me goodbye. After a good conversation we wished each other good luck, and she accompanied me until the train compartment, in accordance with Russian tradition. She could tell by their faces that my company for the night were friendly people. She'd been right about that, I found out later.
And so the train to Kiev left the station...
First I took the metro to Tsarinskaya, a large park of the tsars, located a few miles south of the Red Square. It was very impressive and wide. Many Moscovites came here to walk with their children and it was peaceful. A handfull of classicist buildings were scattered in the huge area of the park, and I also enjoyed them. Inside there was an exhibition about Marlene Dietrich, which I skipped. I had lived 2 years within one block of her birth place, so it would have been interesting. But my Russian was still very poor.
After that I went to вднх ("vudinga"), another metro station where an array of pompou
s Stalinist buildings attracted some tourists like myself. I gazed at the monument for world's first astronaut, Yuri Gagarin in 1961, a bent thin concrete obelisk with a rocket on top of it. I walked through a gate resembling the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, but less sophisticated, and entered a typical Stalinist pyramid. I was surprised to find Disney and Pixar figures in front of it, and a shopping mall inside. I ate a blin (pancake) and wrote a couple of pages on a cup of bad coffee.Mascha, my new host, cooked a very tasted rice-meal with seafood. I went to bed early...
... and woke up early to go to Kievskaya station, where my train to Kiev would leave. I sat down in a small cafe and took out my notebook, just as always. The intake of some coffee resulted in the output of a few pages written, but after an hour or so, the lady began to ask me to leave since I sat without consuming anything for too long. I ate some meat dish; it tasted not bad. I had a hard time ordering it, even after studying the menu I had to guess what I was going to get, but that was funny too, in a way.
I moved to a more luxurious place opposite the station. In a mall of several storeys with glass facades and coffee bars on different levels, I waited for Ann, who came to say me goodbye. After a good conversation we wished each other good luck, and she accompanied me until the train compartment, in accordance with Russian tradition. She could tell by their faces that my company for the night were friendly people. She'd been right about that, I found out later.
And so the train to Kiev left the station...
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