Day 14: The long way home

I didn't want to go to the beach on Monday because I didn't think I'd be able to have a shower since I was checked out of the hostel (actually I did sneak back and have a shower, joke's on them) so I just spent the day breakfasting and lunching and sipping beverages in the sunshine, very relaxed.

As I said I was planning to, I went on the hunt for souvenirs – well, by “hunt” I mean I looked around all the stalls in the park I wound up in. I was particularly pissed off with the culmination of my Ukraine-wide search for coasters. Don't get me wrong, I'm not coaster-obsessed. In fact, I think this may be the only time in my life I've actually felt the need for coasters. But I have my flat now and my tables and I think in the week and a half I was there before going on holiday I had to clean off marks two or three times left by... um... I'm sure it was some unidentified non-alcoholic beverage... yes, that's it, non-alcoholic beverage. Anyway, after coming to the conclusion that Ukraine's tables were destined to be repeatedly violated by the horror of the sticky ring-mark, you can imagine my joy when I finally came across a set of coasters and snapped them up at once. On the very next stall, I saw some nicer coasters, and then I swear to god, every stall in the market had coasters! I wouldn't be so annoyed, but I'd even been to this very market the day before and not seen any (I wasn't looking very hard, but still). So now I'm stuck with a particularly ugly set of Odessa coasters rendered for some reason in that sort of "half-burnt poster from the Wild West" style. You'll know I love you very much if you get these in your Christmas stocking.


A very big post office with no postcards


I think this is an Islamic centre


You know you've been in Ukraine too long when you look at this and seriously think "I wonder what language ti 'nivol m'i is? Moldovan? Duh...

After going back for my suitcase and a quick shower, I decided to walk from my hostel to the train station, which wasn't particularly close, but I had time to kill and I've hauled heavier suitcases under worse conditions before. It was pretty much in a straight line as well, so even I couldn't manage to get lost. It did really hammer home the condition of Ukrainian footpaths though – tripping over about 20 times had already made me aware that they were very uneven and broken, but hauling the suitcase added a new dimension of curbs and gutters every few feet. It was fine though, took about 45 minutes to get there. I hadn't had a chance to get dinner, so I grabbed a kebab which was saucily delicious. Unfortunately, it was saucily delicious all over my pants. I had elected to walk down in my sleeping garb – tracksuit pants and a t-shirt – because the last time I tried to change from a dress into this on the top bunk of a second-class compartment it was quite the production - I attempted to do it lying down under the covers. I think the guy across from me turned the light out halfway through less to save me embarrassment than to save himself the sight of what must have resembled either a fiercely unsexy version of the dance of the seven veils, or (the metaphor I think my Dad would choose) the thrashing of a demented worm trying to shed its skin while caught in the trap of a funnel-web spider. Anyway, so now I was wandering the train station clad in a daggy tracksuit with a giant kebab sauce stain on my pants (a stain that I fear will now be a permanent reminder of my trip to Odessa), so I could not have looked hotter. I consoled myself with the thought that if I were in an American teen movie my peers would probably refer to me as 'kebab stain' for the rest of the film, and shun me accordingly. At least in real life, if people were calling me 'kebab stain', I was blissfully ignorant of the fact, and running around in a country where you can barely hold the simplest of conversations and people shout at you at the least provocation is pretty much like being shunned anyway, so I was really none the worse off for my kebabby badge of dishonour.


Kebab shame

I'm currently in Frankfurt airport, with about three and a half hours to go to my next flight. After an overnight train trip (very hot and delayed for two hours), followed by an immediate departure to the airport and one flight already, I'm pretty tired, and I have obviously the wait here and another flight to go, then the RER train into Paris. I also am definitely coming down with a cold, my ears were just about exploding on the first flight. I hope not literally, since one of my eardrums literally did burst when I was a kid, due to an undiagnosed ear infection (I was on painkillers from having my tonsils out, it wasn't due to being a neglecterino), and while the memory is thankfully quite hazy, I'm not in any hurry to repeat the experience, cos I'm pretty sure it hurt like the dickens. But I should say hurray for Lufthansa! It's been ages since I flew on a proper airline, not since I got to Europe, and it's a pleasure to have people bringing you food and drink and not trying to sell you something literally every second of your flight (hello RyanAir?). And having an assigned, comfortable seat. Plus the flight wasn't full this time, so the middle seat was nice and empty. I think I'm window again for the next leg, which is nice.

Oh but I think I might have been nekked scanned at Kiev Airport, eee! Instead of walking through the normal metal detector, it was a little room with footprints for you to stick your feet on and then you held up your arms. For some reason, nekked scan didn't cross my mind, and I was expecting that little blast of air where they somehow mysteriously check you for explosives (come to mention it, it's kind of weird that they don't do that one at airports, at least not that I've ever seen). So it wasn't until about 5 minutes later that I put three and three together – little room, footprints, no blast of air, no pat-down, and came to the conclusion that I had been NEKKED SCANNED! The indignity!


Not very legible cos I didn't want to get into trouble for photographing it, but you're meant to declare at customs if you're taking any "printed materials, audio, audiovisual, or other stored information sources" out. What?? Is this still the Soviet Union? I ummed and ahhed about whether I would get in trouble, but decided it was probably far easier to just walk through the green channel

Also at Kiev airport, I went to the loos and the woman who came out right before me had left the gross, used paper toilet-seat cover on! Uh, lady, the point of that thing isn't to preserve the sanctity of the precious toilet seat you know... I realise I sound obsessed with toilets, but honestly, this country has so much to learn.

I'm looking forward to sleeping in a bed, even if it is in a dorm room, and being back in a country where I can speak the language, and most of all I'm looking forward to being home! Have the day in Paris first – not really my favourite place in the whole world, but since I couldn't get a flight that came in early enough to get a train back to Tours the same day, I thought I might as well go to a museum since I was forced to stay overnight there anyway. The day after I get home I have an appointment to get the internet hooked up as well, so that'll be good. Super high-speed fibre optic, here we come!

The next day

Hello all, it's Wednesday morning and I made it to my Paris hostel mostly without incident. Security wouldn't let me back on the plane with my duty-free vodka from Kiev, which was annoying because I'd asked like 3 people if I was going to be okay before going out into the terminal at Frankfurt. Obviously I wasn't going to make a big issue of it (although the guy was all "it's not from the EU" and I said "isn't that the point of duty-free?" Well - isn't it?) and they suggested I go back and check it in. Lufthansa was nice enough to do it free of charge (otherwise it wouldn't have been worth paying for it anyway) and amazingly it survived the trip in a plastic bag stuffed with old newspaper a nice man in the newspaper shop gave me.

Unfortunately the handle of my suitcase broke off when I was rushing to get on to the RER train from the airport to Paris. When will I learn that cheap suitcases are a false economy, do you think? I was soooo irritated, this guy was right in my face on the train going (in English) "welcome, welcome, no problem, no problem" and I said "YES problem" and he goes "is it broken, no problem" so I snapped "I'M REALLY NOT IN THE MOOD!" and stormed off. You can fecking decide whether it's a problem or not when you're going to be carrying it around for me! It has already proven a pain in the arse, but it's not that bad, I have the normal handle (just not the pull-out one) and at least it's at the end of my trip, but seriously, mind your own business, even when you're not dealing with someone who slept maybe 5-6 hours out of the preceding 36 and had been travelling for over 24 hours.

I slept okay although everyone in my room took about an hour to leave at 5 in the morning, so I wouldn't say I'm totally refreshed. Got woken up by a text though and thought I might as well get out there for the day before yaaaaaay home time! I think my mum will be finally able to relax for the first time in a couple of weeks (already since I've survived the Ukraine - incident-free I might add, other than the bank panic, which was nothing to do with Ukraine at all)!

Day 13: Doing nothing in Odessa

Just a quick one for the completists out there... Another uneventful day yesterday, I was up pretty early again and went to the beach, but after a couple of hours it got too hot and then after I had lunch it had started to cloud over and was still hot so I decided to call time on my beach dallying and took a circuitous route back to the hostel, getting in probably around 2 for a shower and a nap. Woke up to pouring rain and feeling pretty out of it. Luckily the rain stopped and I went out for another wander and for a very leisurely dinner, just at a chain place, but quite nice pizza! Made a change from cheap Ukrainian food (which I like in general, but I've been trying to watch my money, so I haven't eaten anything spectacular lately). And I couldn't come to Eastern Europe without having one of the legendary thick hot chocolates!


So thick you can stand a spoon up in it! Just like [insert name of person you consider especially stupid here]


Park on Deribaskaya (I probably completely misremembered that) Boulevard


The "Pazazh" (Passage) arcade


After I got back to the hotel, it poured down again. It's fine at the moment, but forecast is for cloud today, so extra glad I got my beach time in at the right moment!

Today I'm going to have a look for some souvenirs - everywhere sells the same crap, but you never know. Coasters have still proven elusive. My friend Liz bought me back something from Russia, so I need to pick up a little something for her, but the problem is I know it's all the same crap she would have seen over there, so it makes life difficult! Will pick up a couple of bottles of booze as well. Then I might go to the archaeology museum. First task, though, breakfast!

My final overnight trip is tonight from 11 to about 8 in the morning. Again, I'll be stuck on one of the high bunks in second class, boohoo! It's meant to be a bit cooler than it has been, I hope so, since I will be going pretty much right to the airport (my flight is at 2, but I'm a nervous nelly when it comes to making it to flights on time) and then I have a bit of a wait in Frankfurt, so I think I get into Paris at about 10 pm Tuesday night. By the time I get into the hostel, it will probably be midnight, by which time I won't have slept in a bed for 36 hours or whatever, groan! Should have made a concerted effort to sleep in this morning, at least it might help me sleep on the train...

I planned to go to the Musée André-Jacquemart in Paris on Wednesday, before my direct train to Tours at about 4, but we'll see how I'm feeling. I will definitely be pleased to be home! Holidays are great, and I have been mooching about recharging my batteries these last few days (and refusing to feel guilty about not "doing stuff") so I'm not feeling as tired as I was in Lviv, for example, but there's no place like home, and holidays help you appreciate that! Unfortunately, the cupboard at home is bare, fridge has been unplugged, but at least I cleaned and changed my sheets etc. before I left, so I'll probably just crawl into bed when I get back (around 6) and worry about unpacking and so on the next day. I have the rest of that week before work starts up again on the following Monday - arggh, seems too soon! But it's definitely good to have several days' with nothing on, I hate going straight into work after a holiday, you're often more tired than before you went away!

Day 12: Basking by the Black Sea

Not really too much to report about today, since I woke up at around 5.30 after hitting the sack early last night, blogged yesterday and mucked about online and then was out I think around 8, getting to the beach about an hour later, where I stayed until 5.30 or so. Still, a very pleasant day!


Nice and quiet at 9 am


Lots busier at 5.30! I was actually on the next beach over though, which was less crowded even though only a few hundred metres away

One of my early tasks was locating a loo *with* doors, for reference purposes. The next one I came across not only had no doors either, it was squat style AND you could see in from outside the toilet block! I don't know why it had these graphics spraypainted on it, because there was no peeking required in this joint!




Thankfully, I tracked down a loo that cost 2 1/2 times as much, but I've learnt now to regard doors as a luxury worth paying for!

The only other thing of note was a stall owner who was really sweet and patient with me. It's a small thing, but when you've literally been screamed at for incorrectly responding to the question of what sausage would I like on my hot dog, you appreciate the small things. And she earned the reward of me coming back to her for all my purchases that day - the last time she said to her colleague "here's our girl!" and I wanted to give her a hug. Instead I told her to keep the change, which was the equivalent of about 10 centimes (although a bit more in real value) so hopefully came off as sincere appreciation and not patronising.

It's funny, while I lived in Moscow (and admittedly, at least at the end of my two months, my level of Russian was quite a bit better), I was always coming across people who seemed genuinely impressed that a New Zealander with no family connection to Russia could speak any Russian at all. Here people seem more put out that I dare come here without being fluent. This despite the fact that, with the exception of the time at the bank and at the hostels, I've never tried to speak English with anyone, I've always done my best in Ukranian or Russian, and for simple things I can usually get it, especially with gestures or so on to help. It's true though, that while I'm getting that phenomenon of surprising myself by remembering random words I had long forgotten, my level of Russian is crap.

Anyway, walked back to the hostel via a beach that looks over the port, taking a few photos along the way:


Me in front of another war memorial. Recycling clothes again - didn't think there was much point dirtying another dress just to have it on for a couple of hours in the day at the beach


This made me laugh. I'm sure it's supposed to have some profound meaning, but it looks like he's heading for a spot of cottaging to me!

Pictures of the port:

Day 11: Odessa... Odessa!

As I think I said yesterday, I had a pretty slow start to the day. After dropping my bags at the hostel, my first mission was walking to the Potemkin Steps. It didn't give me the best impression of Odessa, as I quickly got, not lost, but entangled in a series of unattractive, traffic-choked streets around the port area. Odessa is still very much a working port, and, like the port in Auckland, it's not particularly attractive. It also doesn't have great street signs (better than Kiev though) and there seems to be very few places to cross the road, so you're always trying to dart between endless streams of traffic. While Kiev seems to have a classic, bustling, chaotic post-Soviet energy to it, and Lviv and Chernivtsi are replete with faded gentility, Odessa has an air of 'the New Ukraine' about it - it seems more moneyed and more capitalist somehow. While I can't say I'm a Ukraine expert now, of course, it has been good seeing some very different parts of the country. I'm having to get used to speaking (basic) Russian again too, just when I was finally remembering to say djakuju instead of spasibo, it's back the other way again. My guidebook says Odessan Russian is regarded as a 'comical, gangster dialect' by some - I'm in no position to judge, but I did notice when talking to the girl on the train last night that there is a bit of a different accent to standard Russian that even I can pick up on, so it must be pretty pronounced!

Statue of the founders of Odessa, topped by Catherine the Great, who ordered its foundation after the Russians conquered the area in 1789


The Odessa opera

When I finally stumbled across the Potemkin Steps, I seriously had to get out my guidebook to confirm that I was in the right place. Honestly, they're not that great-looking, especially coming upon them from the bottom. Very ordinary in appearance, and the bottom has been built over so they no longer run down to the sea, rather to a busy road. And I was most disappointed to see not a single child-wielding transvestite or runaway pram. (If you haven't been forced into a bit of Eisenstein in your day, here's the famous Potemkin Steps sequence: ).

The steps from the bottom...


...and the top


Me on the steps, not that you can really tell. And yes, I'm still in my clothes from the day before, this is before checking in!


At the top of the steps stands a statue of Richelieu, descendant of the cardinal, who was given the governorship of Odessa in 1803. He's responsible for the look of much of the city

After a spot of breakfast, blogging, and a shower, I decided it was time to hit the beach. It wasn't the absolute perfect beach weather, since there was a thin veil of cloud all day, but at least that kept temperatures down and made lying on the beach tolerable. As long as the weather's nice I don't think I'm going to do all that much more with my time here - a bit of exploring on the way to and from the beach, but I'm definitely ready for a bit of sea, sand and sun after being trapped in land-locked Tours. I think one afternoon on the beach last August is all I've had for as long as I can remember. (And, I know, I hardly ever bother going to the beach at home when there's tons of (not that great) options right on my doorstep, but it's different when you never get to see the sea.)

Again, finding the beach involved a lot of wandering around on ugly streets (and getting lost inside a sanitorium, not the type I should be locked up in, but an old-school Soviet-style health spa) , but I finally found it, yay! I must say, all the rumours I heard about Odessan beaches being filthy and standing-room only (literally, apparently the old way of sunbathing here is to do it standing up!) are much exaggerated. Yes, there may be a few too many cigarette butts, and I didn't go in the water, but they're not that bad, and there was plenty of space. Definitely better than the rubbish pile I photographed on the Kiev beach.

I don't know if it's black exactly, but definitely darker than on the Cote d'Azur, for example

In general, I think people like to make things out as harder than they are. The guy in the hostel at Chernivtsi went on and on about how going to Odessa was a mistake, it was all prostitutes and their Turkish johns, it was filthy, it was sleazy etc. etc. Not all that helpful when you've already got firm plans to visit. And, while I perhaps shouldn't speak too soon, my guidebook (while being quite positive on Odessa really) chimes in with making a trip to Ukraine seem like a perilous adventure. It's definitely not the first overseas trip you'd take, and you do need a knowledge of Cyrillic at a minimum and the ability to keep your wits about you, but honestly it's not that scary.

Other than the toilets, that is. While these are actually remarkably clean and toilety (as opposed to a hole in the ground) for Ukrainian public toilets, this girl needs doors! And I had to pay for the privilege of not using these things

Oh PS I tried some kvas - I had tried it already when I lived in Russia, but I had forgotten what it tasted like (other than 'odd'). Still odd-tasting, but it actually grew on me as I was drinking it and I finished the whole (small) glass. For those not in the know, kvas is made from old black bread, not the most tasty starting-point for a refreshing beverage. You can definitely taste the same sort of tangy molasses flavour that the bread has.