A church in Uzhhorod
The Uzhhorod fortress
The town hall in Mukachevo
Hills near Izki
Contents:
The beginning - Uzhhorod, Mukachevo, Izki and Kolochava
On the way through Carpathian region
Chernivtsi and Khmelnytskyi
Easy going Vinnytsia
A point break - Uman'
A hell on earth - Illichivsk in the Saturday night
The Illichivsk break down
The anabasis in Odesa
A matter of heart - Kyiv
Saturday, the 1st of July, 2006 - The first day of my journey. I took the worst Czechoslovakian train at Vsetin station. It comes each Friday evening from Prague to Eastern Slovakia with a lot of drunk and stinky people. Luckily I got the compartment with a decent man working somewhere in Western Bohemia and returning home. We both get some sleep but I first encountered something like five seconds nightmare during waking up ("Where the hell I am? Where the hell I go? Somewhere to Ukraine? Shit, man!"). It was something like danger felt in the subconsciousness. I better watched beautiful Slovakian mountains but got cold from it.
At Kosice railway station I met some guys from Prague who told me there's a bus going immediately to Uzhhorod. I took it because I haven't been in Kosice before and it started to rain so hitchhiking would be more complicated. I felt bored in the bus where from twenty people about twelve were Czechs with Prague accent. Crossing of the Slovakian/Ukrainian border took about two hours and I was only one from the bus speaking Russian. I arrived to Uzhhorod earlier than I expected, after 2 p.m. Things I dislike on travelling by public transport is, that you arrive to the worst place in the city. If you hitchhike, you can at least get some advice where to go. I changed 50 Euros with an underhand moneychanger and the same with one of these Prague guys I had a bad feeling from it. It appeared there was no other possibility to change money.
I had a meeting with Hospitality Club member R. and I felt much better. We went to her house where I got some rest and in the evening we made a tour around the city with one of her friend. They showed me the centrum of Uzhhorod and the fortress. My intention to use HC wasn't only to save some money but also to learn something about the country and to meet new friends. It's also a good psychological help not to be alone in the foreign city. The same applies to hitchhiking.
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A church in Uzhhorod |
The Uzhhorod fortress |
The town hall in Mukachevo |
Hills near Izki |
Sunday, the 2nd of July, 2006 - We said goodbye with R. and I took a taxi to the city center. I went to the place on the road to Mukachevo but stayed there about two hours until a man took me. On my hitching point I had some chat with kids because I stayed there for so long. They got some postcards and I got heart emblem from them. In the car I was told it's a symbol of Yulia Tymoshenko and from that time I liked it much less. In the car I heard interesting stories about being Soviet soldier in Estonia and lost money in early 90's because of hyperinflation.
Then I arrived to Mukachevo and I was invited for the soup by the couple whom I just asked for a restaurant. I had some walk with them and I continued to the road heading nord. Before that I sat to a pub just for beer and had some talk with guys from Chernivtsi. "Do you know what symbol do you wear?" "Yes, I've learnt it already. And from that time I don't like it so much." "If Yulia Tymoshenko would ask you to marry her, would you accept?" I replied spontaneously without any sense of political correctness: "This multi billion dollar oil girl? Just no way!" He immediately made high-five with me: "My man!".
Then I finally continued on foot to the crossroad in the western part of Mukachevo. I stayed on the road in the reflexive vest (thanks to Lithuanian hitchhikers for this invent!) and for next one and half hour nobody took me. After about 45 minutes police on the post woke up, they jump in to the police cruiser to go 200 meters and just passed by without stopping. I was ready to climb a hill with the cross to have a sleep with the best protection in this world but luckily I was taken out. The man is a Greek-Catholic priest and because we didn't find any hotel that would cheap enough to my modest requirements, he invited me home in the village Izki.
Monday, the 3rd of July, 2006 - In the morning we were first at the mass celebrated by father V. Then I gave him and his son some gifts. For meetings like this I had in my backpack some books, CDs, postcards, maps and a lot of music on my hard disk. I felt it better than just to use someone's hospitality. So we made some data exchange and a motorbike trip with V.'s son. I never expected I'd ride Czechoslovakian JAWA 350 motorbike somewhere in Carpathian region in Ukraine. Without helmet and with 14 years old navigator. Later he told me "Can I ride it now?". So we exchanged and I felt much worse because he rode it safely but faster than me. We went to watch the waterfalls, that was the point of the ride.
Then father V. took me to Mizgirya as I wanted to take smaller road to Kolochava. I was taken by an ambulance through mountains. I asked the nurse if she's got something against the cold. She had only thermometer (37.3 - not so much) but advised me what to buy the next day in pharmacy. I had an accommodation in the local elementary school but with higher priority. There's a museum of Ivan Olbracht - a Czech writer who romanticized a story of Nikolay Shuhay The Robber. The story of this criminal took only about one and half year. He escaped from Austrian army and during crisis in early twenties he started to steal and rob richer people. As Czechoslovakian government wanted to show its power in Carpathian region he was killed in a chase. Before that he succeeded to kill two Czechoslovakian policemen. What a hero. Lot of Czechs are coming there to watch this museum and the place, thing that disgusted me this place. My higher priority came from the fact, that the museum administrator knows personally my father, teachers from my high school and my schoolmate. So I didn't have to spend a night in the gym between Czechs but had my own class of Geography.
Back to topTuesday, the 4th of July, 2006 - I got out from the Kolochava elementary school and went behind a bridge to take a lift. I was taken by 3 men for 15 Hrivnas to Bushtino. Before that a bus with Czech tourists passed by. As I told a woman who gave me some water for the journey I consider them as a Prague rabble ("svoloch" in Russian). It's a mistake that I usually do on my journeys. You shouldn't probably say anything bad about your country because you also represent it in your own way. I also told her that the water means the whole life and that I can principally survive without bread and cigarettes but not without water. Later it proved to be a cruel truth.
A church in Izki |
Waterfalls near Izki |
On the road from Kolochava |
On the road from Kolochava |
I reached the Tisa river and got a lift by a company of four Ukrainian and three Slovaks on two old fashion GAZ jeeps. It was great to take this open air lift. We made also some bathing in Solotvino lake that is saltier than the Death Sea. You could float in the water and smoke a cigarette in the same time. Just a great relax. Then we continued to the "Centre of Europe" site (that is by the way also in Lithuania) near Rakhiv and to Yasinya. On a gas station a gas started to flow out from the car. We push it forward and drivers repaired it with jokes like: "Cigarette, please?"
In Yasinya I was offered to have a room for 100 Hrivnas with the system like: "If the driver from Uzhhorod comes, you'll have it for 50." So I built my own tent just for 10. I also made some new friends from a big company coming from Kyiv and Seattle. The bad thing was that in the tent it was colder than I expected. I started to do another mistake that I forgot to rest. At midnight I took all expensive stuff from my tent and went for some drink to the village. I met some local young people, had a chat with them and drunk Carpathian balsam (10% herbal alcohol). Dialogs are better not to describe, they were among others about statistics of venereal diseases of Ukrainian "night social workers". Then I had just a few hours sleep waken up by the cold and daylight.
The nature near Rakhiv |
The road to Rakhiv |
Good morning, Yasinya! |
A petrol station in Chernivtsi |
Wednesday, the 5th of July, 2006 - I packed my tent in the morning and went for hitchhiking to the northern direction. I was taken quite fast by two guys heading to Chernivtsi. Great and fast help. We made also some fun in the car with my Czech/Russian dictionary section "Only for adults". In Chernivtsi they asked me a taxi to the petrol station on the northeastern part of the city. They were right, nobody took me for 3 hours of staying in the shadow of a billboard. I started to try another things, like asking some drivers at the petrol station without any success. Seemed like everybody were heading to Moldavia. I encountered stinky things like when I asked Bulgarian truck driver and a girl in his cabin appeared to be a whore willing to help me. I sent her out when she join me on my walk to the next point. Also two guys stopped and I asked them if they go to Vinnytsia. "No". "So to the Khmelnytskyi direction?" "No." I decided immediately to send them out without me. "Ok, that's not my direction, good luck. Bye." At the next point I almost got a lift to Vinnytsia by two truck drivers. But their boss decided not to take me because the cabin is just for two. I was grateful for advices by Iris Neva who described how a girl should behave when she hitchhikes alone. The point was it's more about psychology than physical strength. It fitted for me as a man alone in a little bit hostile place like this.
I was already disappointed. I sat in the open air restaurant having some big tea and buying bread and listening how local people are talking about me. I changed the sign "Odessa" to "Vinnytsia" and tried another round of hitching provocating in my reflexive vest. Finally, after all together about six hours waiting, a couple of older people took me to Khmelnytskyi. They had no rear seats so I could sit or lay down watching the landscape. I arrived to the city quite late and asked three young guys having dinner on the bus stop if they know about some cheap hotel. When I introduced myself, that I hitchhike alone through Ukraine one of them said: "Oh man, I as a local wouldn't travel this way." It could warn me. But they knew what to do, they invited me to their modest garden house where they even had a bed for me. Again we had some fun with my Czech/Russian dictionary section "Only for adults".
Thursday, the 6th of July, 2006 - In the morning we said good bye with my benefactors and after some asking for a direction I went by public transport to the road in the Vinnytsia direction. I asked the bus driver for the broken window: "Some head didn't succeed?" I took it as a joke but his answer surprised me: "Yes, exactly." At the bus stop I met pleasant guy Sergey and after all we spent about hour together. We felt down in a quite personal discussion. I asked him, if he at least want some of my postcards. He as a designer chose the most beautiful one and asked me to write something for the memory. My pencil stopped to write and I had to use pen. I said it was a pity I wasn't able to correct mistakes. "It doesn't matter, it's a memory for the whole life", he said. As I wrote with my slow Russian handwriting with some mistakes I felt he looked at me somehow moved, like men mostly don't want to be seen. At the end we clasped and I was glad I met somebody nice again.
Then I started to hitch on a road to Vinnytsia direction. It was nice street with big trees and after about 15 minutes a car with three people pulled over. The driver was a doctor from Ivano-Frankivsk and he advised me good medicine against cold. We also had a talk about Carpathian region because he's a ski-alpinist. He said about the next guy in the car:" This is a member of mafia." I looked at him with surprise. "Government service", he said. I was a little bit politely importunate: "Can I ask, do you serve in the police?" "No". "So in the army?" "Something like that." So it was for me the end of conversation with him. During this ride I also learnt I'm one of only few people in Ukraine using seat belts in cars.
Back to topIn Vinnytsia we said goodbye with this company. I could continue with them to Uman' but I wanted to meet Hospitality Club member V. He was almost only one from Ukrainian HC members who was also interested in astronomy like me. My heart also attracted me to the sea coast and also to meet Y., a HC member from Kyiv with whom we already become friends on my journey by calls and SMSes. But Vinnytsia felt for me later like a point break, that I had to take a rest and not be on a run. We met with V., pleasant ecology student, on Vinnytsia bus station and for the rest of the day and the night I stayed with him and his family.
In the city during peak I didn't want to proceed with my heavy backpack by public transport, so I asked if we could take a taxi. I chose old Russian Zhiguli for the price that would be ridiculous in our country. I told how great was it for me on a rear seat with the professional driver and the navigator and that I feel better there than Lukashenko or Putin. But I clammed up and I asked politely if I can make a photo of the memory stone next to the steering wheel. It was with red star and something like: "Brother, for you Afgan didn't finish yet." Next to it was a label with something like that the car was under the protection of angels. The driver was the best and safest one that I met in Ukraine. We had a talk about his service in Afghanistan and he said it was not so bad, he was mainly in a base camp. We also talked about the year 1968 in Czechoslovakia. It was interesting meeting with someone who definitely values each new day and seemingly common things. I didn't think at the moment I'll soon encounter something similar on my own.
In the evening we stayed at V.'s home and his family took care of me like I'd be someone important. We didn't go anywhere and we had some chat. Later when it was already time to sleep I continued to do my bad mistake. After midnight I still read something from my guide book.
Friday, the 7th of July, 2006 - In the morning we went by trolleybus to the Vinnytsia centrum and we left our next meeting open. V. said he'll be busy at the university and in the evening they go to visit grandmother somewhere outside the city. So we said goodbye and I went to very nice central park. I sat on a bench and had some rest and read something. But from the point there was a direct sight to a big police station. I felt worse because policemen had looks at me more often than I'd feel normal. Maybe I looked potentially dangerous with my big backpack. So I better moved elsewhere in the park, this time without backpack, that I left under attention of a waitress in a pub. Later I went to a shop with electronics to buy some equipment and I tried to copy my photos from the camera to the harddisk. It didn't work and it was another source of stress for me not to have a backup of my pictures. I don't recommend a lot of this electronic stuff to take on journeys. Especially chargers are heavy.
I spent the rest of afternoon and evening in the e-cafe Cosmos at Gagarin square. It was like a symbolism for me because I'm keen in astronomy and space flights. I had a lot to write and read because I didn't have Internet connection for a few days. I was surprised how fast and easy I can work with computers, especially to type. Also switching between languages wasn't a problem. But I embarrassed myself with mail I sent to hitchhiking mailing list. I wrote among other things I felt like in a book 1984 because each uniform watches me as some high tech special force member from the west. That was boasting.
In the evening I asked V. if he could help me for the next night but he replied they already left the city. So I had to took care of myself. I took a taxi for going outside city in the eastern direction. It was not expensive but the driver wasn't able to advice me where to go or spent a night. So I stayed in a front of some hotel and people who stayed in the front of it didn't recommend me to sleep there. Those people were celebrating 25th birthday of one of them and they invited me in. I made some jokes like I was Czech ambassador there and I gave to the honoured man "My Country" CD by Bedrich Smetana. It was very patriotic gift by me. I got also something to eat and drink but I tried to convince my hosts not to give me much alcohol. I was tired and wanted more to sleep than to celebrate something. Thing that disgusted me a little bit was that some people, especially women, didn't understand at all the idea of hitchhiking. They advised me it's impossible and dangerous there, didn't bother them to think I already came there by hitchhiking. They expected that if I'm from a richer country and I've got enough money I should go to a station and buy a ticket. The honoured person also asked me if I serve or served in the army or in the police and he was surprised with my negative answer. He also asked if my parents are "something high". Also nothing like that.
Back to topI decided to spent the rest of night at the central bus station. So I came to Saturday, 8th of July, again with a deprivation of sleep. Because of my tiredness and early morning I wanted to take bus to Uman' and not to hitchhike. At the bus station in the waiting room I met a major of Ukrainian Air Force. When we started to talk I was surprised how many things I can say in Russian military terminology. He had very interesting stories, for example how in Iraq his convoy was ambushed or how his own soldiers robbed a bank. He looked older than he was, that was probably from this big responsibility and stress. We travelled by bus to Uman' together. Again it was good psychological help for me, that I could sleep in the bus and not to be afraid. When we said goodbye in Uman', I gave him my compass and I expressed my wish we could meet again, maybe in the air. We also had some talk about Afghanistan and I naively said my wish that richer countries should engage there better to stop drugs killing people on our streets. I definitely didn't think at the moment I'll travel to the south much shorter way to encounter something like that.
Then I walked around Uman' centre but I didn't feel like to go to the great park Sofiyivka because crowds of tourists disgusted me that place. I walked behind the town and I took some rest for about two hours under the monument of the tank T-34 with the number 347 and the sign "For the Country!". Then I had to march for quite long, it could be about five kilometres to the highway crossroad just between Kyiv and Odesa. The fun stopped there. I was quite soon taken out by a family van with fat driver (some "New Russian", probably), his wife, daughter and older lady who was the smartest person in the car to talk to. The driver went like a fool, like fast driving adrenaline junky. He didn't bother himself to think no one in his car have seat belts fasten and his daughter sit in front of the table. I felt much better to sit in opposite direction on the safest places in the van. I was tired and the journey to Odesa long, so I felt asleep. But during waking up, I had for the second time a few second anxiety nightmare: "Where the hell I go?! Where the hell I am?! Somewhere in Ukraine! Shit, man!". It was again the danger felt by my intuition. The beautiful nature behind windows calmed me down.
The stone from Afghanistan |
A chapel in Uman' |
A chapel in Uman' |
The tank no. 347 |
I wanted to go to the Black Sea coast and I read the map. "Illichivsk?", asked me the driver. I agreed and somewhere near the town he stopped for me. Before that I gave the old lady my own photograph of colourful clouds and I thanked everyone for the lift. But when the driver gave me my backpack from the trunk, at once he wanted money (50 Hrivnas). I was stunned. "I don't have so much, I've got last 15. Next to it I've got only euros." His eyes lit up: "So give me 10 little euros." I recalled my 50 Euro banknotes in my backpack and I started to speak up: "I don't have change! My last 15!" And I stuffed him my last 15 hrivnas "Davay!" (That's it). We almost sent each other to hell. That was almost fulfiled later.
So I walked fast with anger to a bus stop. There was some drunkard whom I brushed off. I started to talk with some older guy who was much more serious and I described him briefly my situation. I was without local currency but he said he didn't mind, I could give it to him the next day. We went to the sea coast by taxi and on foot. There were two other of his friends and one of them who was from Moldavia guessed my age precisely in the darkness and after a few sentences. I was just few days fresh 30 and people guess me younger, that is good among other things for hitchhiking. He told me, I just had such a life attitude, that I travelled and so on. Before that I said I wasn't interested in disco or restaurant there, but in the sea that we didn't have in our country. So I was at the Black Sea coast and I frenetically ran into it. It was great.
But then a problem appeared. I was running out of food and water. The spring on the coast was half salty, as I expected. In the cottage that we sat next to was TV on and that had to be a signal that another guy who can host me, will come soon. But we waited for a long time and nothing happened. So I left myself to be coaxed to go to the town centre. Big mistake. My benefactor explained me on the way that during Soviet Union times everybody worked or learnt. I diplomatically answered I had different opinion and didn't want to talk about it more. His motivation was mainly to be taken for my money to his home. So he called another of his friend, a taxi driver who become my guide for the incoming terrible night.
The Illichivks town and changing of money appeared for me like from a horror movie. The taxi driver lit up a cigarette, turned his hand radio on and said "Now carefully!" and we went to an exchange point. It was illuminated in violet also like in a horror and my 50 Euro banknote was checked OK and changed. The hotel that he took me to was quite expensive for me even looking somehow strange. In the front of the hotel a black cat passed in the front of the car. "Oh, the black cat", pointed the driver. "But you didn't do anything to it", I opposed. "Doesn't matter, it's a black cat, it means bad luck." My tension arised, no matter I'm not superstitious at all. The taxi driver, who was a designer and had to take job like that, told me he could principally invite me home. But he said he had just one room and he didn't know what his wife would say. With doubts and with a possibility that we could go somewhere else, I agreed. On the way we also bought some food.
His house was such a block of flats that would be for the worst scum in our country and his wife was disagreement itself. I calmly said that we can go somewhere else where it can be a little bit cheaper. I went to the corridor with my backpack in one hand and plastic bag with food in other. I waited for a while and then I said only a little bit louder "Can we go?". I repeated "Can we go?". Suddenly, from the door next to me rush out some terrible guy in underpants. He violently took my shoulder "Get the ... out of house, you ...!!!" I didn't had a chance to defend as I was holding twenty kilograms of my stuff in both hands and I illogically said "Sorry. Sorry". He still tried to push me out but I stayed on the place and as he felt my shoulder that became stronger on this journey, he maybe felt me as something also possibly dangerous. The taxi driver just called him: "Let him be, he's a foreigner." And he left me.
I was shocked, I went fast to the car and asked the taxi driver for a cigarette. My voiced cracked: "Why do you live here? Sorry." He explained to me: "You don't have to be angry with him, he's got a child there and he didn't want it to be woken up." I replied: "Why a child in such a surrounding?". "Smart words", he said. He took me out with his car, I swore at the town and threw a cigarette out of the window with the worst Russian word I could ever imagine I knew. The taxi driver repeated things I said: "You're a smart man, you said: 'Why a child in such a country?'" I opposed: "I didn't say the country but the surrounding". He also told me I'm naive and idealistic, that he was also like me and that someone will kill me at the place.
We came to some hotel where for 100 Hrivnas was no water as I learnt later. I got good advice for the night by the taxi driver. He told me to lock there, not to drink alcohol, not to open to anyone (!) and sleep. I felt the room like my bunker and I was angry to hear the young people in the pub under my window to talk about me. So I threw on them some piece of plastic and got it back soon. So I decided to placate them with cigarettes and then I felt finally in a hard sleep.
Back to topSunday, July the 9th, 2006 - In the morning I didn't wait to see the taxi driver from yesterday who promised to come at 11 o'clock. So it was again only on my shoulders. As I didn't have a water, I couldn't shave myself and I looked like a mercenary. I went out and sat in the front of the pub to have some coffee. I started to talk with two young guys who were from Georgia. It made me feel better to see again someone who could understand me. One of them said: "We aren't afraid of this lazy coast rabble, we can beat them easily ... And how do you know we've got Tbilisi as a capital?" I explained I was also interested in history and geography and I mentioned Shevarnadze and Abkhazia. It pleased them: "Look, in our country even unknown people will invite you home." Then appeared the hotel administrator, ugly Soviet beldam, as we later called her and she wanted the key back. I gave it to her and had some kidding around, like that I had no water and if I should report it at the police or an embassy as an attack on foreigner (I didn't get a bill, it was untaxed money). This talk was untimely gaining of the next events.
I said goodbye with Georgian boys who showed me the way to Illichivsk port. I wanted to go out from that backwater. I marched listening to Karel Kryl's songs like Caravan of Clouds, Morituri Te Salutant or The Last Moravian and I drank beer as my only source of liquids. Big mistake. I didn't make it to the port. Swallow of beer and a cigarette knocked me down to the ground. I couldn't move. I called an ambulance from my mobile for three times, explaining I was a stranger there, I just couldn't move and I was on the road to the port. Cars were passing by, no ambulance came and I lay there for about two or three hours between thistles. It was again like from a horror for me, I felt I passed to an enemy territory, to a place where nobody helps a person in need. Later I took a booklet about first aid from my backpack and I found what to do in faintness. So I put my legs on the backpack and I finally got up even without losing my breakfast.
I walked on some street between houses and I asked there some good lady for a water. She even gave me something to eat but the water was the most important for me. I diplomatically refused meat. Her husband said: "It would be better to let him lay on the road". She snapped at him. I thanked and went for a minibus to Odesa as I got new advice that only in Odesa I could get a ship to Crimean where I wanted to go. I came to Illichivsk centre and almost immediately I took next minibus to Odesa. I saw some ambulances and police cars playing catch around the town. I didn't bother myself to call again I was OK already. Later I learnt they didn't ignore my emergency calls, they just were not able to locate me. This way I turned a town with 50000 inhabitants upside down. In minibus there was a boy close to me and he told his father who looked like a policeman: "I'll ask him if it was himself who made that mess in the town." His father replied: "Better don't ask him anything.". I didn't care very much, I turned on again my player and I started to listen to Evanescence's songs like Going Under, Bring Me To Life, My Immortal and My Last Breath. I thought very much of Y. from Kyiv as my relationship to her changed when I lay down at the road. I felt a big strength, I just made it alone from a hell and I thought nothing was able to stop me anymore.
Back to topIn Odesa I asked for a way to the port. During getting to the bus somebody played to push my backpack in and got caught by one of its belts. When I wanted to take my wallet out of the pocket out, I realized they stole me it. "Shit! Pickpocket!", I swore half Czech, half Russian. The driver opened the door for me and I got out on the street. I tried to call some help, on the street where I felt people didn't want to engage and also through my mobile. So they threw to me my wallet from behind a corner. "Thank you!" I said ironically. Money were out but IDs including my driving license were put back in, so it was surely something to thank for. I definitely wanted to leave the city. For remaining change I got to the port. I hardly had a look at the famous Odesa steps. I wanted to spend the night on a ship to Evpatoria where I had a friend. But it was evening and they were just closing the port. I sat next to a member of the port security and I explained him briefly my situation. Next to him sat a policeman and radioed that a foreigner came from Illichivsk and collects his money. They already knew about me. I said "Bye" and he replied "Good luck".
I sat for a while on the shore in the front of a monument of fallen sailors (with letters taken out by tourists). I just thought: "Oh man, think about those guys. How they had to suffer, got drowned somewhere in the sea. Compare to them, things that happened to me are nothing. It's just nothing." Then I grabbed 50 Euro banknote that was deep in my backpack and went to exchange it to the close four-star Odessa hotel. I used English at the reception and later with a hotel manager. I felt it fitted better to such a luxury place. I felt great, I just survived. Everything appeared to me as a best in my life - coffee, cigarette, vegetable salad. Italy just won the world football championship over France. At the next table was sitting a policeman and the hotel stuff partly knew what happened to me (maybe from some tabloid local news). I felt they admire me and the hotel manager addressed me "Sir".
I called my next HC host from Kyiv, Y. and I explained her my situation. I expressed my wish to skip the Crimean peninsula from my journey and to go as fast as possible to Kyiv. But then I made another big mistake. I skipped the possibility to go to Kyiv by a night train and I wanted to fly there. I didn't think it through, I was under the influence of this mild euphoria. The taxi to the airport was quite expensive, so it spoiled my mood a little bit. All offices were closed, Monday 10th of July 2006 just began and there was nothing more than to wait in the hall.
I could calmly sleep. I became friend with local homeless dogs who got my spoiled cheese and guarded me. But I slept very softly and in the morning I was very tired and I felt not so far to break down again. I asked someone, if there is a doctor and he took me behind the corner to a good-hearted one. She gave me some medicine, sweet black tea and I lay there for a while. After opening of these offices I realized I didn't have enough money for a flight ticket to Kyiv. Meanwhile I became "The Known" ("Znakomyy" in Russian) as I often heard when someone, especially from the police, refered to me. I had a feeling some employees of some airlines wanted to ask me something and maybe to offer something but I somehow escaped from them as I fast left the airport and took a minibus to the railway station. The train to Kyiv had to go at 14:30 and I had to wait again.
I walked with the backpack in the vicinity of the railway station and I felt people watch me more than should be usual. When I saw a big monument of V. I. Lenin, I swore at bolshevics and occupants and during passing by I spat to its direction and I put my thumb down. That was very cheeky provocation. The time of the train departure was about to come but I felt worse and worse, especially from the looks by people around. I entered some post office building next to a railway station and I asked them, if they could call the police for me. I felt unsafe. They looked at me somehow strange, as it could be something stinky. "OK, so an ambulance, I just feel sick". It took about fifteen minutes for them to come. Older doctor looked like some former military or navy doctor and took it as there was nothing with me. He checked me and left the place. Two paramedics helped me to the ambulance. I lay down with kidding like: "...fireman, angel, paramedic..." and "sister" and I told them not to notify my parents to worry them and nothing like an embassy. Suddenly somewhere in the city the car stopped, started to turn and paramedics quickly jumped out and closed the door. Just the driver in the front stayed there. It came to me like something terribly dangerous, like a possible attack on me. I swore with some sentence from the "Platoon" movie, grabbed my remnants of power, took my stuff and jumped out of the ambulance on the street. I felt big anxiety and I was trying to stay next to these two paramedics. It was somewhere near some museum and I felt this panic reaction could save my life.
We got back in the ambulance and it gave me a lift just to a big police station. I sat between other waiting people and felt terrible. After about half an hour people around finally got I understood everything they said about me. I was invited for interrogation to some lower rank officer. He asked me, if I used drugs. Nothing like that. So he summarized that I just spent more money than and I expected and started to lose his patience with me. I had to protest: "By the way, are we on first name terms?". "Yes", he replied and looked at me like he would realized at the moment he went too far. I sat in the quadrangle of this police station that looked like a fortress. My train at 14:30 was out and nobody was about to do something for me. I though I wouldn't make it to the next corner alive if I'd get out. So they "graciously" let me go: "Yes, you are free". I sat in the front of the station with feelings of helplessness. I called again Y. and asked her if she could call my parents to load the credit on my mobile.
I finally didn't make it with my nerves, put my passport out of my pocket and swore: "OK, you just wanted it this way. Czech Republic, European Union, this is the phone number to the embassy. Just call!". I returned in and I heard bad words on my address. But I felt something like sympathy and support from the local people sitting also in the quadrangle. After some time, about twenty police officers with short AK-47 assault rifles arrived. They had a line up ("And you are who?" "Captain XYZ"). Then they started to talk to me like if I would be one of them: "Did you serve in army?" they asked me. "No, they didn't want me that I was depressive." "Don't give a shit about it, man, we take everyone". When I saw that line up I read the Psalm 121, looked up to the sky and felt much better. A young pretty woman started to talk to me: "Look, boy, I've already learnt you are ...". I didn't understand: "Sensitive?" "Yes, don't be so immersed in that, just trust yourself and everything's gonna be all right." I asked her: "Are you some police psychologist?". "No, I'm Odesian". "I see, so you're used to it". She also said I'm a great guy ("molodets" or later "chelovek" in Russian) that I even didn't lose a chewing gum.
Armed officers lost somewhere, probably they posted around the city and there was nothing going on for a long time again. But finally, I waited to see. An officer took me out of the station. On the way to the van, he was distracting attention by flashing with lights. Before that, a policeman talked to an other one and showed him some form like "Transport of an unarmed person". The second one told him: "Forget it, this is 'armed' man". We got in to the van, older police GAZ with the officer, older and younger policewomen, one more cop and professional police driver who immediately started stopped engine on a crossroad. There was a good mood in the car, it could be intentional, the way how to get as much info as possible from me. Anyway they knew a lot, even things that they could learn only from a business card that I gave to the hotel manager the evening before. And I had nothing to hide and I talked about me openly. I talked also about hitchhiking that it meant freedom for me and often older people didn't really understand what it meant. So we got to the railway station and policemen passed me on to a night train to Kyiv. I gave them a smile and thanked.
But there was still something to be afraid of. There was some suspicious guy and I had a feeling he provoked. He wasn't afraid of the police and when the train departed, he was often passing by my compartment. I told him really rude Czech sentence. I had again something best in my life, the dinner and I wanted to go to sleep. But a copy of mail that came to my mobile made me again very nervous. It was by some Hospitality Club member from Odesa who didn't reply to me in June. He wrote he couldn't reply sooner because of technical problems and if I was sick in Odesa, he could help me. It made me feel much worse, how could so many people in Odesa know I was sick? But as I wrote before, policemen called me "The Known". A police officer who passed by, calmed me down and showed me the way, how to lock the door. I secured it even better with a string.
Back to topTuesday, July the 11th, 2006 - Hammering on my door woke me up just before the arrival to the Kyiv main railway station. The conductor was angry for that secured door and she even didn't let me use the toilet. She was in much worse mood than the evening before. On the platform Y. waited for me. I made some stupid things and mistakes motivated by the fact that I was in love before I saw her for the first time. When I came to her flat and I couldn't reach her for a long time, I called the police, thinking she could be kidnapped. When we were in a park in the evening I lost her in a darkness for a while. I walked faster, grabbed my phone, tried to call her, got no answer and I started to run and finally found her. I was so afraid of her that something could happen to her because of me.
Wednesday, July the 12th, 2006 - In the morning I accompanied Y. to her work. Then I walked around the city intending to find some Internet point. I didn't find anything but felt still worse and worse because of the way how people looked at me. I though it could be again from some tabloid news that this paranoia is partly real. I went into the building of some airlines at The Victory Square. I wanted to buy one ticket, one way to Prague or Vienna. I wasn't sure if there was enough money on my account. My parents promised to send something but I felt worse and worse. I had to wait for a long time and I often had to go to a toilet that was in some closed zone of the building. As I once insulted the security member in the building, addressing him "private soldier" in Czech I later apologized him in the way that I gave him my pepper spray. I told him I don't want to carry such things anymore and from that time he protected me. He took me to an office with some young 'important' guy, chief of information byro. He asked me if I was in contact with my embassy and so he called it. He embarrassed me as he told them, I could hardly say a word in Russian. The consul who talked to me rang off after one sentence. I told them to call an ambulance. An SMS arrived "You got money on the account", I told the 'important' impolite guy to try my credit card again, it was OK, ticket was mine and a doctor checked my blood pressure at the same time. Also some fat stupid cop came and asked me if I was Czech. I replied upset: "Checked out, through the system, right?". I felt that women in the office looked at me somehow moved. So I finally left the building by an ambulance with doctor and fat cop who made me sick carrying some big box.
I looked where I go from the window and I had a talk to the doctor. She asked me what happened and I told her I felt big anxiety there and I wasn't far from fall senseless. Then we arrived to the Eighth Kyiv Hospital. I lay down on a deckchair in the reception. Another doctor came with question: "Is it some war victim?". She checked my blood pressure again and asked the other doctor what she had measured at the place they took me. "120 to 80", she replied. "Now, he's got 140 to 100". And everything was clear, I was so afraid in the ambulance. They left, I don't know whether to have a coffee and cigarette or to cry. They ordered a nurse at reception to give me some bread and release me. I asked her if there is a possibility to have a professional psychological help. Negative answer. I left the hospital and used the taxi to get to Y.'s home. Then I had to walk for a long because I couldn't find the house. I had pain in my feet. Finally I got in and felt totally exhausted.
She came home in the evening and decided to take me to a internet-cafe in the next building. I started to feel much better and I was typing with the speed I had never reached before. I looked at everything around in a different way. "Oh man, internet-cafe, houses, footways, streets, ordinary people living around, it's so beatiful." When we returned I broke down on the floor, this time I was totally happy that everything is normal again. Things like that people lived there, children played games, guys were going out for a beer after their work, brought me to the biggest euphoria in my life. I felt that was it, that was like the meeting with the God that I had waited for years. I felt there was nothing to worry anymore, I found the great country of mine, the love of my life and finally myself. I though that was the most important thing that happened in my life, that I had to suffer for so long to gain this feeling. Everything came to me like it fitted at the moment. I had to go to a doorstep of a hell to get to a doorstep of a heaven.
Good morning, Kyiv! |
On the way home - Borispil airport |
Thursday, July the 13th, 2006 - After a good sleep, I packed all my things and went again to accompany Y. to her job. I was sad to say goodbye to her. When I was alone in front of famous Kyiv Golden Gate, drinking beer, smoking a cigarette and seeing normal street with normal people almost drove me to tears. I evaluated such usual things much higher. I sat to some restaurant having the greatest breakfast in my life. I called Y. that I'd better kidnap her from her office. Big mistake. I heard some policemen in civilian dress to report they think I wanted to do something bad. So I left the place and took a metro train in the airport direction. I felt again worse to be closed between people. At least there was a great view to the Dnipro river. I apologized Y. for that call.
In the subway I met a guy also going to the airport to wait for his brother. He knew about my story, although he was nothing like a policeman at all. Another thing that convinced me my paranoia was partly real and as I thought it was much better to survive these nightmares in real than in someone's head. We continued to the Borispil airport by taxi paying fifty-fifty. I felt again better to be on the way and I was looking forward the third flight in my life. When I get to the airport I had enough time and I went through customs easily. Then I had to wait. Some employees of the airport (with IDs and hand radios) started to talk to me and wanted to know what happened to me. They also advised me my flight was late. But when I came to the gate I realized they lied to me and my flight was out. I was angry and I asked some other employees if it was some kind of a game. Later some stewardess with kilos of make up came and showed me another gate. So I had to fly with another company. I was sure it was intentional because my backpack was with me in the same plane.
We took off finally, no matter there was a delay because of checking of the plane. I enjoyed my flight with the best seat next to a window behind the left wing. Next to me was an empty seat, again a kind of symbolism for me and next to the corridor some man who told he was American. I drank the red wine almost as I'd celebrate some mass. After one and half hour, we touched down and I felt asleep. When I woke up, I just said: "On the ground". That meant also the reality.
In Prague I realized another big problem. In the stress at the Kyiv Borispil airport I somehow forgot something really important: a convertible currency. My Czech Crowns I exchanged in Kyiv with Y. and so I had only Ukrainian Hrivnas. So I had to ask a friend for a help. At the airport I didn't get a bus because of some lost stupid small part of the flight ticket. Some bad things happened again. The consul from Kyiv called me again asking me if we hear each other for this time. I had two another suspicious calls, the first one from the number like +0123456 with silence and the second one from some British number with a recorded part of the previous call with my friend. Bad stuff that even someone tapped my phone for the moment. Later my friend came for me and took me to his home. It was good to be among nice and known people again.
Next days, my return home and following things are parts of another sad story, that I don't want to write here. This journey will definitely not disgust travelling for me. As I wrote in my traveller's diary about Baltic States, you don't have to worry too much because our world is a good place to live. This journey gave me stronger faith in God and in myself. As I later somehow lost it among other things because of unfilled love, I have to walk on to regain it. Somewhere, sometimes, somehow...
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