We left Kiev for Lviv in Western Ukraine near the border with Poland. We took an old soviet era train, which is a great experience. The train just clanks metal on rails, chugging through bleak wintry mountains and steppes, no one saying a word, no one doing anything. You feel like you could be taking a train to the end of the world. The trip is twelve hours, too, so you feel like a lot of things by the time you arrive. (Note how I'm writing in the second person, a seldom used point of view made popular however by the very good brat-pack urban New York writer (whose now grown up), Jay McInerney, who wrote Bright Lights, Big City, a quasi-autobiographical story about a writer in New York swallowed by the raw emotions of love and loss, and lots of Bolivian marching powder.) But I digress. Majorly. Fantastically. Let's see:
We arrived in Lviv for Christmas eve and day. Lviv is touted by the Ukrainian independence crowd as "real" Ukraine. They speak Ukrainian there, not Russian. They are Ukrainian separatists by and large, and the culture is influenced by Poland to the west and the Polish-Hungarian (or what?) Polish-Lithuanian empire. Look. This part of Europe divides cleanly. You're Russian and part of that vast empire, or you're western. Poland is Western. Lviv is close to Poland. This is the key.
Anyway, it's a beautiful city. Home to one of the oldest known coffee shops in the world (the first was in Vienna, and as legend has it the coffee beans were stolen by a rascally Cossack reconnoitering the Turkish military camps. He brought the beans up to Austria and sold them, and the Blue Bottle coffee house resulted. There is still a tour of early coffee shops in Lviv, as they've (rightly) claimed this Ukrainian entrepreneur, Polish-Ukrainian Jerzy Franciszek Kulczycki, a hero of the Battle of Vienna in the 17th century. This is actually true--or at least it's considered true legend.
So, to Lviv. My first photo is, fittingly, a lampoon of Putin. Making fun of Putin and talking trash about Russia is common in Lviv, though uncommon in, say, Odessa. I was even scolded for speaking Russian by a waiter in Lviv. Unheard of in Odessa! Really, anywhere else in Ukraine! Awesome. Here we go...
Lviv city center from the roof of the tallest building.
Screw this guy. It's toilet paper and the inscription reads "pin pin" in English. There's a joke here but I've forgotten it. It might be his childhood nickname.
Screw this guy too. No one really likes Trump outside of America, I've noticed. I would say that "no one likes him in America" too (and wouldn't that be funny!), but actually over half the country does in fact like him. Clearly. Anyway this is a travel blog not a mindless vacuity of tired and well-worn carping bullshit about American politics. Y'all can do that on Facebook!
Hi sweetheart. We had a great breakfast at a wonderful hotel in Lviv. We did.
Apparently I didn't eat. But as you'll see in some upcoming photos, apparently I in fact did.
Interesting. It's... 10 tablets of Gidazepam! Perfect for chiliing after twelve hour train rides through Ukraine! (It's a very light sedative that's legal in phramacies in Ukraine. They have strict rules about chill pills, actually, so this stuff is quite normal. I took it periodically but not regularly. So, there.
"Don't eat me." "Don't worry. I won't." Conversation I had with a dead fish in Lviv.
This guy is dapper. The statue looks good, too.
Interesting. Two evils: Putin and Trump. If you're in Lviv. And I was.
This is a long story. Yeah.
If you think about, this New York game show guy really is an asshole! Oh well.
Dude you're gonna be sitting there for a long time. I'm afraid.
I don't remember this cathedral. Note the cobblestone streets. So beautiful. And so hard on your ankles unless you prepare with adequate footwear. I wore three-quarter length (you know, like ankle tops) Eddie Bauer urban hikers. Those boots were pedi-riffic.
I'll be honest. The food in Ukraine is just okay. They aren't keen on a lot of spices or heat. They typically serve potatoes with everything, or bread. You'll get a loaf of bread with nearly any meal. They eat fish with the heads still on. They--yes, they really do--make great borscht from beets. But all in all, it's not exactly a haven for cuisine. It just isn't. I love ya Ukraine, but no.
The women really are great, however. Anya was the best.
This is not the train we took. This one seems to have more space.
Fun.
If we were in Italy, the right hand would be poised for an expletive. But, not in Lviv.
Lviv celebrates Christmas on the Catholic calendar (some folks do). So December 25 really was Christmas for some. The Gregorian day is January 7 as I mentioned earlier. This date is still used for Christmas day by Eastern Orthodox Christians, which is most of Ukraine and certainly in Odessa--which is a very Russian city.
Christmas!
Dude. Seriously. Ain't no holler back. Not there. I don't think so.
She had that "Sunday Mood" hat on everywhere. See that jacket? I bought it in Podgrica, Montenegro and left it in the Detroit international airport later that year.
Note the little Christmas wreath by the base of the statue.
Nice shot in the square in city center.
Very Slavic. Hmmm. I'm James Bond. Your name is... Tatiana!
Open market. Well, looks like closed market. It's Christmas!
This is a nice photo. That's Anya.
The city center. Wonderful place, Lviv. You know, you don't get the tourist trap stuff in these cities like you do in popular destinations. Sure, go to Paris. Hell, go to Barcelona. Lisbon. The Canary Islands. I don't care, go to Morocco. But for Gosh sakes, if you want a beautiful slice of planet Earth, go check out Lviv.
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