The road to Kharkiv, Ukraine, is punctuated by police checkpoints in most towns and at some locations between, and we wonder what is different here from Russia and the ‘Stans in this regard. Probably not much... The heavy presence of the police, with their now ubiquitous baton in hand, seems just as unwanted here as in the other ex-Soviet states we‘ve passed through. As a consequence we were again stopped on the road, this time three times in a couple of days…
Early on, on this road, we both were feeling like a cuppa and something to eat so to satisfy these needs, and in a sense to celebrate in a very Australian (for us, at least) way, our entry into Eastern Europe proper (western Russia just doesn’t seen right, somehow, to be included in Eastern Europe) we pulled over, found somewhere to hide ourselves behind now common deciduous hedgerows, and soon got a fire going. What is it that is so satisfying about a fire? Is it the warmth, the timelessness of the primeval flame, or is it something much more personal to Will and I - does it remind us of home, of sitting with good friends around a camp fire, and of course of the bush and one of the great freedoms we enjoy in country Australia, of being able to camp and get a fire going, pretty well anywhere one wants, with relatively few exceptions? Probably all of these…
We are, of course heading for Kiev, and a very special day when Ros and Hamish are to join us for the remainder of our journey to London. After a night in Kharkiv, we arrive in Kiev and soon get lost. Where on earth are we in this large city of about five to six million people? I ask Will to pull over which he does behind a parked car, with someone in the driver’s seat. I approach the driver to ask our location. As keeps on happening, unexpectedly, now so often, this total stranger is helpful beyond expectations. He quickly dismisses our LP map (useless I think he says…), scratches around in the rear of his car and produces an excellent road map of the city. I tell him we’re looking for Hotel St Petersburg which he knows and gives probably a fair appraisal of, offers us his own apartment at a similar rate (which I do not take up) and then gives us the map, gratis!
We drive on into a late afternoon traffic jam. Slowly we grind our way to the selected hotel, which is near the very centre of this large and western style city, the first such type of city for months. As we get closer, cars line the streets, are parked at odd angles on the footpath, and plastic traffic cones or stern looking men guard anywhere a stray car could possibly sneak into, and it seems impossible for us both to leave the car while we check out the prospective hotel. I get out and Will drives on and I mentally wish him luck. Hotel St Petersburg is a large, ex-Soviet era hotel, with friendly staff. I ask for the rate (a budget blowing 360 Hry (about AUD45!)), and about parking, and, for the first time I can remember, don’t even bother to see the room first, before taking it. I was feeling hassled by the inability to stop the car and besides, we have seen so many bad hotels on this journey that, hey, what’s another one matter, if it turns out that way. Will turns up, unexpectedly - it seems the city has a band of parking officers, who not only take your money but, helpfully, also find you a spot - which is what happened. Wonderful!
Our room is huge!, has a balcony and for the first time since Bangkok, has BBC World on the TV; there is even wi fi in the room! We feel like we’ve struck gold! Mind you, it is basic (what’s new!), has shared facilities, is on a very busy street, which is noisy at times, and as everywhere now, is over heated. I book another room for when Ros and Hamish arrive.
We need to get our car serviced - with over, too far over, 10,000km now clocked up since UB and the memorable day of the last service. I ask reception where I can get the car’s oil changed, and am asked if I want to change my car park. Well, no… After a phone call by reception, lots of discussion I cannot understand, of course, Toyota Kiev’s phone number is produced.
The service is done while we wait. Disappointingly they find rubber bushes supporting the front stabiliser bar are damaged and need replacing, and of more concern, a front shock absorber is leaking oil and which they cannot replace. I guess these are the result of tens of thousands of km of bad roads…
While waiting for Ros and Hamish, we roam the local city area - it is a Saturday and the probably normally grid locked main drag, Kreshchatyk St, is now a pedestrian mall. We wander in welcome but fleeting sunshine, absorbing the local scene. Well dressed young people looking much the same as in any western city, stroll. The look however has just a hint of the fast approaching Winter - fur collars, padded jackets, hoods, and coats, etc. The buildings we pass are impressive, and in some cases old and graceful. A rock group has just finished playing at one end of the mall and a final burst of recorded music is played far too loudly to announces the pause. We walk up to St Sophia’s Cathedral, pay our entry to a squeaky voiced woman who seems to take forever to deal with troublesome customers ahead, and enter calming grounds and a sight of soaring gold and green cupolas, green trim, and fresh white painted, rendered masonry walls. We see an extraordinary interior, with 11th century frescoes and an elaborate gold screen in front of the altar. Outside I listen to a minstrel with long, wild white hair, playing a sort of broad, flat bodied guitar, singing some melancholy traditional song. Will says he reminds him of a friend of ours, Earl! I enjoy this place, and its peace.
Wow! They’re here! Being in the car with Ros and Hamish is however extraordinary - there is chatter and movement and a bit of a buzz, which is so very different from the quiet calm in the cabin Will and I have grown used to, along side the incessant rumble of the car on the road and the wonderful iPod outpourings of the likes of Grizzly Bear or Chemical Brothers, which we’ve enjoyed so much. I think I’d better get used to it…
Of course, its great to have them with us and for them to join our little caravan is it heads towards London. We’re off on the road again tomorrow…
[Photos: minstrel, St Sophia’s Cathedral; cupolas, St Michael’s Cathedral; family reunion at Borispol, Kiev, Airport]
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