4th November: A Crazy German, Site-seeing in Kiev and a Quirky Bar

The train station was large and impressive, built from white stone with huge cylindrical pillars dissecting the spacious domed entrance hall. We made our way to the exit and decided we should get cash out whilst we knew there were cash points around. It was at this point that we realised none of us had researched the exchange rate and that we had absolutely no idea how much anything was worth. Alexia’s debit card was also refusing to let her withdraw any cash but thankfully, as she had Russian roubles, she was able to exchange them for гривні, грн (hryvni, hrn) and we could make a rough estimate of the correct exchange rate.

We made our way to the metro station next door and worked out how to get to the hostel, which we had chosen on the recommendation of my ex, but in actual fact didn't have a clue about. As usual, finding the actual address when we’d reached the correct station was a nightmare, but eventually, after some fruitless wandering and a very expensive phone call, we found the entrance, which was just like any entrance to an ordinary block of flats.

A young girl around our age was waiting in the doorway and introduced herself in English as Dascha. We were shown up three flights of stairs until we reached a plain door and were led into the hostel, which could easily have been someone’s home. The entrance opened straight onto a new kitchen, where a middle-aged, greying and balding man was standing in a t-shirt and boxers. He looked genuinely alarmed for a minute and I wondered what on earth was going on, before he laughed and said he hoped we didn't mind seeing an old man in his underwear. He was clearly just as mental as my ex, Adam, had made out. Knowing he was from Germany, I tried to speak to him in German but he soon switched to English. No sooner had we introduced ourselves and exchanged a few niceties than he was asking us whether we liked vodka and disappearing off to the shops to get supplies.

When I got out the shower I was greeted by the sight of the meek Ukrainian girl, the mad German and my exhausted friends gathered around the table drinking huge mugs of vodka-orange. I’d already been poured a mug too, according to the ‘eight-second rule’ (where the vodka has to be poured for eight seconds before adding mixer). The mad German, whose name was Achim, was drinking by shots and telling us how he’d lived in Ukraine for nineteen years and never bothered to learn Ukrainian. This struck me as more than a bit bizarre but I kept quiet. I've never drunk vodka at eight-thirty in the morning before but I have to say it did have a surprisingly good effect.

The hostel did turn out to be just like a flat; it consisted of a kitchen, bathroom, toilet, double room and six-bed dorm. By the time we got out of the hostel it was midday and we decided to go straight to lunch at a Ukrainian buffet across the road. Our first impressions of Kiev were overwhelmingly positive; even our street seemed modern and cosmopolitan, and very European in contrast to what we were used to in Russia.

On Dascha’s advice, we decided to walk into town to see the main streets and sites. On the way we passed an amazing bookshop which was designed like a Victorian library, with two wooden spiral staircases leading up to a balcony with shelves and shelves of beautiful hard-back books. Then we made our way onto the broad main street, Хрещатик (Khreschatyk Street), which happened to be closed to traffic that day. Along the street, we saw the Kiev City Administration, the Main Post Office, the Central Department Store (TsUM) as well as endless rows of European-brand shops. Evidence of its reconstruction following the devastation in WWII caused by the retreating Red Army is manifest all along the street, which was rebuilt in the neo-classical style of post-war Stalinist architecture.

 The modern, cosmopolitan feel of the city is magnified even more in this area, not least because there are little cafes, cobbled side-streets and street entertainers dressed as Spongebob Squarepants and Yogi Bear taking photos with tourists for money. In 2010 it was named among the twenty most expensive shopping streets in Europe. The main square, Майдан Незалежності (Independence Square), is impressive, surrounded by modern, high-rise buildings and a huge glass shopping centre called Глобус. The focal point of the square, which is dissected by the main road, is a monumental column to Берегиня (Berehynia), a Slavic goddess who in modern-day Ukraine is said to represent Ukrainian nationalism, feminism and neopaganism. Interestingly, the Berehynia monument replaced the Lenin statue which once stood there. The square is the clear epicentre of the city and, during Soviet times, was known as October Revolution Square, before switching to its current name following the worldwide notoriety it gained in 2004 as the stage of the Orange Revolution. It was also the biggest Fan Zone of the EURO 2012 European Championship.

It was at this point that we realised the cause of the closed road, as a huge crowd and a camera crew had gathered and were singing patriotic Ukrainian songs. The whole atmosphere was lively and almost summery, a complete contrast to what we had become used to. After we had stayed a while listening to the music, we continued along the main strip and came across a protest movement taking up an entire strip of pavement. The main focus of the protest was the recent scandal regarding the imprisonment of former Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko of the All-Ukrainian Union ‘Fatherland’ party, and consisted of different exhibits, including a glass case containing live rats. After Tymoshenko lost the election to Viktor Yanukovych in 2010, she challenged the results, claiming the vote was rigged, but withdrew her appeal with the statement, “It became clear that the court is not out to establish the truth”. Since then, several criminal cases have been opened against her and in October 2011 she was sentenced to seven years in prison upon being found guilty of abuse of office during the 2009 gas deal with Russia. The European Union, along with other international organisations, regards this as justice being applied selectively under political motivation, and there is widespread outrage amongst the Ukrainian public.

When we had reached the Philharmonic Hall it seemed we had reached the end of the main strip, so we decided to walk up the steps opposite the hall, which appeared to lead to a park and a vantage point. There we saw Soviet statues representing the unity of the Ukrainian and Russian people, which had clearly been vandalised so many times the authorities had stopped bothering to administer repairs, as all that remained of the metal lettering were the holes for the screws. The holes had been connected like a dot-to-dot by scratching into the stone so the words were still just about legible, but it was clear the message was an unpopular one.

After that we decided to make a coffee stop before exploring the upper town. By this time, dusk was beginning to fall, the clocks having gone back for winter there, and when we passed St Sophia’s Cathedral it was beautifully illuminated. We wandered up to St Andrew’s Church, one of the few buildings in Kiev that has managed to avoid serious damage or reconstruction. We only saw it from the outside but just the exterior is stunning, especially lit up in the evening, consisting of one large dome and five smaller cupolas. Whilst we were there we browsed the market down Andrew’s Descent, a picturesque cobbled street which winds down to Поділ (Podil), the lower town on the river front, which in ancient times was home to merchants and artisans. We were completely happy and relaxed, and after searching a while, found a traditional little Ukrainian restaurant serving customary Ukrainian foods such as stuffed dumplings, borsch and vegetable soup, where the waitresses were strangely dressed as maids.

When we got back to the hostel, Dascha was waiting for us as we had planned to meet Achim at Палата Номер 6, a bar he claimed was the “best bar between Potsdam and Vladivostok.” Though probably not as amazing as this statement might suggest, it was a cool bar, especially as, as friends of Achim, we had our own table already reserved. The bar, which is underground, is named after the Chekhov short story about a psychiatric ward, and the theme runs throughout – from the décor to the staff uniform. It was a chilled atmosphere and it was particularly entertaining to watch two drinkers have a special drink which involved wearing a helmet which is set on fire to the sound of a whistle. We were all exhausted by this stage, however, and as Achim didn’t actually ever turn up, we left after a few drinks just after midnight.