Ялта Ялта Я-Я-Ялта

So a bearded man once refrained. Indeed it's quite a big song over here on the fantastic M1 music video channel, which plays the same seven songs on repeat all day every day. Still, I am heavily getting into Ukrainian and Russian pop music which proves that this level of corruption clearly works.

I arrived in Odesa okay but not without incident. The bus between Simferopol and Odesa was going to take 14 hours, which is why I opted to fly. However, as my flight was four hours delayed, it took me 17 hours to make the journey. I arrived at the hotel at 1.45am to find out they had no record of my booking. Cue a check-in procedure which took over half an hour, a move to a room where I must share a toilet and some of the worst service I have ever experienced. The fact they can't seem to agree on how to spell the name of their own hotel was probably more than a warning. But at that time of the night after the delays I had experienced, I just wanted to sleep and was in no mood to be difficult.

Travelling from Simferopol to Kyiv was the easy part and I got to spend a fair bit of time in the Crimean airport observing a happy two-year-old who was exploring the enchanted world of the terminal. He was fascinated with me, probably because of the beard I am currently sporting, and I did think how great it would be if we could have the same element of wonderment as adults as we did as kids.

I got a taxi to Borispil'ka Metro Station to save the 88 hryvnia (around six pounds) it would have cost extra for the taxi to take me into the heart of the city. I made up some excuse about meeting a friend at the Metro Station, which is the nearest to the airport, but the driver was so insistant that my lies were nearly uncovered. He wanted to wait for me to meet my friend so he could take us both into the city. Even when I said my imaginary mate lived near the Metro Station, he insisted on hanging around. I dove into the Metro and headed into Kyiv.

I did this for two main reasons. The first was that I had six hours between flights and didn't want to spend it at Terminal A of Kyiv Borispol Airport, as delightful as that is. The second is that I hadn't seen all of Kyiv and even though it would be extra hassle, I would at least have three hours or so to walk around some fantastic parks and see a little more of the city. This is what I did, filling in some gaps around the fortress area of sights Wolfie and I had not managed to see during our previous three days in Ukraine's capital. I was stopped by a policeman outside a government building and quizzed as to my purpose. In the end, he was very gentlemanly and guided me to my destination - I think  an important function was taking place as the whole pavement was closed. I also got to see a broken down trolleybus and the difficulty involved of attaching the two great arms back to the overhead electrical wire.

Getting back to the Airport, some 35km to the East of the city, was a nightmare as I had not accounted for the Friday evening rush hour. I was ripped off by a taxi driver who at one point I feared was going to kill me and bury my body in the middle of some woods somewhere. The queues were long and we spent over an hour making the trip, making me feel his excessive fee was well-earned. I arrived with half an hour to spare to find the flight had been delayed by 2 hours and 20 minutes.

There was an element of gallows humour in the terminal as most flights had been delayed for a variety of reasons. Mine was late due to a connecting flight being late and this was further enhanced by a passenger being sick before we took off. Four hours later we finally left the airport but none of us were particularly bothered as the English speakers seemed to have gravitated towards each other. I spoke to an American man who was taking his three daughters on a trip around Europe before speaking to a Yorkshire couple from Gummersall - six miles from where I live - who have bought a house in southern Ukraine. Then followed a bald chap from Milton Keynes before locals wanted to speak to me to practise their English. I did this over a few beers and whilst the lack of information and lengthening delays proved to be frustrating, the camaraderie experienced has since become one of the highlights of the trip. All of this was done over a few beers, largely because I needed it and largely because 250ml of Evian water was significantly more expensive than 500ml of beer. Crazy.

We finally landed at Odesa Airport at 1am, when most people had gone home. They had to reacquisition an old Soviet military bus to take us from the plane to the terminal. This was fantastic - it was pitch black and shackles were still screwed into the walls. This contraption must have been at least 50 years old and as we got off, we saw the baggage being left on the service lorry in a lay-by for people to pick up. It was all shrink wrapped, which is the norm here for some reason, and there was a huge scrum as desperate people tried to retrieve their belongings.

Upon crossing to the other side of the fence, I tried to find Daemon, the Ukrainian fur who had sweetly waited the whole four hours for my plane to arrive. I was accosted by a wizzened 60-year-old lady who wanted me to take a taxi ride from her. She said 'If your friend no come, I be your friend' which was kinda sweet. It took me a while to find Daemon as he was stood in the arrivals hall of the terminal on his own, rather than next to the back door gate at which the rest of us were standing.

We nodded and started walking into town, with Daemon saying it would be cheaper to get a taxi further away from the airport. What I didn't think he meant was to start hitch hiking, which is effectively what we did. So at 1.30am, with the temperature about 25 degrees above zero, I was with a stranger trying to cadge a lift into the centre of Ukraine's third biggest city. We saw some wild dogs fighting as we went, which added to the sense of gallows humour, but we did manage to get a lift surprisingly quickly. Apparently, it's the done thing here and soon we were at our hotel.

Blue Peter Pan and Tinker's Bell

Sightseeing in 34 degree heat is never fun. However, being British and thus suspicious of such weather, I probably shouldn't complain too much as after tomorrow, I do not know when I will next see the sun again. I had started to doubt the existence of the burning golden orb. And the day I have had with the Odesa furs was most fun - aside from the snakes.

Nine furs met me at the hotel, a Soviet monstrocity whose primary colour is brown, at around 11am and we quickly scouted out an imposing monument from the Communist era. We then boarded a battered yellow bus which took us into the heart of the city, which is some distance away from where I am saying. I am sure the hotel information said different when I booked it.

With appetities soon satiated after I tried some pork/chicken sausages which tasted like tuna and washed it down with raspberry compotte, we headed to one of the main cathedrals in the city, where an art market was taking place. We then headed deeper into the heart of the town, where two people with snakes were draping them around the necks of children. There were also chinchillas there, rabbits and a small allegator, which I thought was a poor combination. Moving swiftly on, we saw a bouncy castle slide in the shape of a tiger and perspired so much I was forced to drown my belly with as many fluids as it could contain.

The highlight of the day was seeing the monument to Alexander Pushkin and the steps leading down to the port. I had wanted to see these for 19 years and was delighted to finally be observing them. We also saw an array of other sights of the city whilst I was given a fantastic picture of my character as a souvenir of my time in Ukraine. It was extremely touching and I hope to frame it, and hang it on my wall, upon my return to the UK on Monday.

We walked over a bridge with locks placed upon it to symbolise enduring and unbreakable love. Heading into the old town, we did a brief tour before realising it was far too hot and retiring to a bar called McSandwich. It was more a takeaway really and here we started to lose furs who need to go off and do other things. I also got to see my first Greek ruins, which are preserved in the heart of the town.

In the end, we were whittled down to the four of us who called in at a cyber cafe decked out as a Russian submarine (complete with missile) and a proper Soviet milk bar type place where I had meat dumplings similar to Polish perogi. These were floating in oil though, very greasy, and even the paprika in the salt sellar or special balsamic vinegar could do little to improve the food. The customer waiting area was preserved like olden days and it was great to see a true slice of history. Plus the furs told me an awful lot about the history of Ukraine, and what it is like to live here now. As I have mentioned before, all the brands are here now, and this is a major difference.

The four of us retired to my hotel room where we tried some more beers whilst observing the view from the balcony. Either that or we sat on the edge of the twin beds and chatted about all things furry. The three remaining are from Kharson, a town six hours to the East of here, and they have just gone to catch their train. I have been invited to stay over at their place if I ever visit the city, which I may do very soon. A fantastic end to a fantastic day indeed.