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And The Cloud Begins At Southend
Jul. 11th, 2011 01:38 pmI am sat in an internet cafe next door to King's Cross station in London. To my left is a man who looks like a woman and smells of the kind of aftershave that should really be consigned to a public toilet. The weather is cold and cloudy and I am waiting to board my bus back to Leeds, which leaves London Victoria at 4.30pm.
The cloud began as we flew over the English coastline. Seriously. It was clear blue sky and bright sunshine all the way until the vista of Southend was sprawled out below us. Speaking of sprawled out, this could also be said for the big Georgian man who was sat right next to me on the plane. He was big in stature rather than weight but his elbows kept encroaching into my seating area. When he was eating (which was a rather nice Eastern European sausage and mashed potato), he kept jabbing me in my ribs whilst his constant mastication in my left ear was the bane of the three hour flight. He couldn't chew gum with his mouth shut. Suffice to say, I have had better flights. It was very claustrophobic. I also observed the North Sea windfarms - they looked like fragile lollipop sticks from the air. They must be quite impressive when actually working.
My last day in Odesa was perfect. I met Daemon at my hotel at 11am, checked out and we walked around a local park. Here, there were many hidden treasures, parked out of the way of the guide books and tourists. Small statuettes, delapidated houses and some stunning mansions made for a leisurely stroll in the July sunshine. We then headed down to the beach to take in the wonderfully fresh and salty sea air. Sunday is a massive day of relaxation in Ukraine and the beach was full of people unafraid to show their wobbly bits. Indeed, it was the same throughout Ukraine - no one was inhibited about walking around shirtless, despite the way their bodies looked. I liked that relaxing feel.
After our stroll, we headed to the train station where we met up with the wonderfully talented Unikorny. She had kindly drawn a picture of Lupestripe when we met on Saturday and, over a Sunday lunch of McDonald's, she drew a fantastic souvenir image of my time in Odesa, with the characters of all the people I had met the previous day in a beautiful montage. I will frame it and hang it on my bedroom wall as soon as I get home as it is such a touching and thoughtful gift. I love it so much.
I decided to make the journey back to Kyiv, where I was to catch my flight back to London, by train for a myriad of different reasons. Firstly, it was far cheaper than flying - a cost of £14 for a 680km journey (compared to a £100 flight). Secondly, a country tends to open up when viewed from a train rather than disappear completely when in the air. Thirdly, I thought it would be an adventure and this it certainly was. Despite the train taking 10 hours to reach the Ukrainian capital (rather than the 50 minutes it would have taken to fly), it was definitely an experience I am glad I have had. And to be honest, the wonderful scenery made the time fly by (pardon the pun).
Daemon had booked a kupe for me - effectively second class of the three classes available. I was sharing with a large Russian gentleman who didn't say one word to me throughout the whole 10 hours. The carriages were in the 1950's British style, with wood pannelling throughout and long red rugs for carpets. The window was stuck together with masking tape and the beds were soft benches with linen thrown on. My train was 3pm to 1am approximately so I did not sleep on the service, although for one night I am sure I easily could have. In an adjacent carriage there was a young Russian boy of about seven years of age with an array of different toy weapons - a machine gun, a scythe, a simitar. He took great delight in 'killing' me with all of them and although he could not understand English and probably thought I was some alien creature, he was strangely fascinated by me.
I spent a lot of the time oscillating between the kupe and the open window of the corridor, from which I viewed the beautiful farming landscape of rural Ukraine. The country was once known as the bread basket of Europe and there are wheat fields aplenty adorning the sides of the track. There are also little patches of maize and corn fields buttressed against the line, often being worked by shawled women who were scything down the crop or spreading dried grass over the land. The smells were something else - the sweet scent of pollen hugged the air and the freshness of the surroundings was quite extraordinary.
There were many unfinished buildings which could be seen - both in Odesa and on my journey back to Kyiv. The concrete frames were there but nothing was attached to them. Meanwhile, rural Ukraine looked like rural Belarus really. The buildings were higgledy-piggledy, with many being patched up in a make do and mend attitude. The same attitude was on display in the toilets of the train too. The one in our carriage was a bucket with a pedal, which tipped its contents on to the track as the train whizzed past. I wouldn't want to be a railway engineer here.
The railways in Ukraine run to a much more leisurely place than those in the UK. Everything is timetabled but there are long stops in major cities which sometimes last up to half an hour. This was the true highlight of the trip as at these stations, local food sellers stand on the platforms selling their wares. There were many old women with fruits and bread products, young men with beer and some perveyors of smoked fish which included some varieties I had never before seen. These were gutted and the whole shape of the fish could still be viewed as it was hanging from a large keyring type instrument. These were quite popular, as I found on Saturday as smoked haddock is an ideal snack to have with beer in Ukraine. Meanwhile, the passengers could get off the train and have a smoke, or in the case of the little Russian boy, pretend to shoot at more people.
I got into Kyiv just before 1am to find the taxi driver from the hotel was nowhere to be seen. He got confused and was on the wrong platform, thinking I had come from Moscow rather than Odesa (the train I was on was the Odesa to Moscow service). We eventually found each other and he drove me to my hotel, which was adjacent to the airport as my flight was an early one. As he drove me back, he insisted in trying to speak to me, even though we had no mutual language through which we could make ourselves understood. He still tried though and I had no idea what he was whittling on about. At certain junctures, he was more interested in talking to me than keeping his eye on the road and he crashed into a bin as a result. We did make it to the hotel safely though, which was a blessing at least.
The cloud began as we flew over the English coastline. Seriously. It was clear blue sky and bright sunshine all the way until the vista of Southend was sprawled out below us. Speaking of sprawled out, this could also be said for the big Georgian man who was sat right next to me on the plane. He was big in stature rather than weight but his elbows kept encroaching into my seating area. When he was eating (which was a rather nice Eastern European sausage and mashed potato), he kept jabbing me in my ribs whilst his constant mastication in my left ear was the bane of the three hour flight. He couldn't chew gum with his mouth shut. Suffice to say, I have had better flights. It was very claustrophobic. I also observed the North Sea windfarms - they looked like fragile lollipop sticks from the air. They must be quite impressive when actually working.
My last day in Odesa was perfect. I met Daemon at my hotel at 11am, checked out and we walked around a local park. Here, there were many hidden treasures, parked out of the way of the guide books and tourists. Small statuettes, delapidated houses and some stunning mansions made for a leisurely stroll in the July sunshine. We then headed down to the beach to take in the wonderfully fresh and salty sea air. Sunday is a massive day of relaxation in Ukraine and the beach was full of people unafraid to show their wobbly bits. Indeed, it was the same throughout Ukraine - no one was inhibited about walking around shirtless, despite the way their bodies looked. I liked that relaxing feel.
After our stroll, we headed to the train station where we met up with the wonderfully talented Unikorny. She had kindly drawn a picture of Lupestripe when we met on Saturday and, over a Sunday lunch of McDonald's, she drew a fantastic souvenir image of my time in Odesa, with the characters of all the people I had met the previous day in a beautiful montage. I will frame it and hang it on my bedroom wall as soon as I get home as it is such a touching and thoughtful gift. I love it so much.
I decided to make the journey back to Kyiv, where I was to catch my flight back to London, by train for a myriad of different reasons. Firstly, it was far cheaper than flying - a cost of £14 for a 680km journey (compared to a £100 flight). Secondly, a country tends to open up when viewed from a train rather than disappear completely when in the air. Thirdly, I thought it would be an adventure and this it certainly was. Despite the train taking 10 hours to reach the Ukrainian capital (rather than the 50 minutes it would have taken to fly), it was definitely an experience I am glad I have had. And to be honest, the wonderful scenery made the time fly by (pardon the pun).
Daemon had booked a kupe for me - effectively second class of the three classes available. I was sharing with a large Russian gentleman who didn't say one word to me throughout the whole 10 hours. The carriages were in the 1950's British style, with wood pannelling throughout and long red rugs for carpets. The window was stuck together with masking tape and the beds were soft benches with linen thrown on. My train was 3pm to 1am approximately so I did not sleep on the service, although for one night I am sure I easily could have. In an adjacent carriage there was a young Russian boy of about seven years of age with an array of different toy weapons - a machine gun, a scythe, a simitar. He took great delight in 'killing' me with all of them and although he could not understand English and probably thought I was some alien creature, he was strangely fascinated by me.
I spent a lot of the time oscillating between the kupe and the open window of the corridor, from which I viewed the beautiful farming landscape of rural Ukraine. The country was once known as the bread basket of Europe and there are wheat fields aplenty adorning the sides of the track. There are also little patches of maize and corn fields buttressed against the line, often being worked by shawled women who were scything down the crop or spreading dried grass over the land. The smells were something else - the sweet scent of pollen hugged the air and the freshness of the surroundings was quite extraordinary.
There were many unfinished buildings which could be seen - both in Odesa and on my journey back to Kyiv. The concrete frames were there but nothing was attached to them. Meanwhile, rural Ukraine looked like rural Belarus really. The buildings were higgledy-piggledy, with many being patched up in a make do and mend attitude. The same attitude was on display in the toilets of the train too. The one in our carriage was a bucket with a pedal, which tipped its contents on to the track as the train whizzed past. I wouldn't want to be a railway engineer here.
The railways in Ukraine run to a much more leisurely place than those in the UK. Everything is timetabled but there are long stops in major cities which sometimes last up to half an hour. This was the true highlight of the trip as at these stations, local food sellers stand on the platforms selling their wares. There were many old women with fruits and bread products, young men with beer and some perveyors of smoked fish which included some varieties I had never before seen. These were gutted and the whole shape of the fish could still be viewed as it was hanging from a large keyring type instrument. These were quite popular, as I found on Saturday as smoked haddock is an ideal snack to have with beer in Ukraine. Meanwhile, the passengers could get off the train and have a smoke, or in the case of the little Russian boy, pretend to shoot at more people.
I got into Kyiv just before 1am to find the taxi driver from the hotel was nowhere to be seen. He got confused and was on the wrong platform, thinking I had come from Moscow rather than Odesa (the train I was on was the Odesa to Moscow service). We eventually found each other and he drove me to my hotel, which was adjacent to the airport as my flight was an early one. As he drove me back, he insisted in trying to speak to me, even though we had no mutual language through which we could make ourselves understood. He still tried though and I had no idea what he was whittling on about. At certain junctures, he was more interested in talking to me than keeping his eye on the road and he crashed into a bin as a result. We did make it to the hotel safely though, which was a blessing at least.
