Kiev to Lviv

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.

Kiev to Lviv

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.

Kiev to Lviv

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.

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:

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:

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:

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 RussianEnglish 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 her 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.