Emerging from Asia in the West

Following a short interlude in Warsaw, it was on to Berlin with the ultimate goal to arrive in Paris--just in time for the Bastille Day celebration. Vive la Françe!

Warsaw gave me the chance to rest up a tad in comfort as I have a friend to stay with, and as I was there just last year, there was no great urge to race around and set any new walking records. A few hours wandering around the "Old Town" the day many musicians and groups were practicing in various cathedrals. Strolled from concert to concert enjoying all the beautiful sights and sounds.

Trains are again back central in my life. Fast and efficient European ones, but not as much conviviality as Asian trains. I may forever begrudge missing out on Astana to Kiev at the mercy of the Russian blackmailer I sparred with in Almaty, or at least until I do it from the other direction. But for the moment, I'm still traveling east to west.

Berlin was another city I visited last year, so I raced quickly through staying only two days before pushing on to Paris. I did the full on walking tour last year and got my second "Checkpoint Charlie" stamp. My first one was in 1966 and was a rather different experience. It's SandStation season, and they are always fun to see, but I didn't need to do any full on HTT (Heavy Tourist Thing).

From Berlin it was direct to Paris, with a quick train change in Frankfurt midway. Aaaahhh, Paris. It was my first European city over forty years ago, and it will always have a special place in my heart. I arrived at Gare de l'Est, full of temporary tents demarcating construction areas, and not a public phone in sight. At information they directed me, "toute à droite, et après à droite et encore à droite." I did all the "rights right" (à droite, à droite, à droite) and still no phone. Malish, je suis à Paris. Time to put my charms to work and collect more anti-rude French stories.

I am a deep repository of personal experiences with polite, helpful, friendly Parisians and I'm always looking to increase my repertory. People on cell phones all around, I approached one young man who smilled sweetly and said, "Mais oui, bien sùre" and began punching numbers for me. No rudeness there. Merci monsieur. Merci beaucoup. But my friend wasn't answering and I had to leave a message that I would call again later.

I picked up my bags and crossed over the street to a corner cafe. I'll have a kir and relax while I wait. And the cafe had creme de framboise. Perhaps I'll have two. When I asked about "le petite monnaie" for the telephone public, the propriator slipped off to the cash register and returned with his personal cell phone for me to use. Not much rudeness there, but still no response from my friend.

By now, it was getting late and time for me to seek out alternative lodging. Armed with a list of cheap hotels in the area that I obtained from information at t-he station, I headed for the Metro, purchased a carnet (of tickets) and standing with my Metro map in hand checking my destination, up comes a woman to see if I needed assistance. Oui, laquelle direction pour aller à place de la Republique? Her response, Place d'Italie and do you need a Metro ticket, as she holds out one for me. Thank you so much, but I have one. Not much rudeness there. Au revoir.

Unexplored Ukraine

Although the plan was to arrive by rail on the Eastern front, AeroSvit (Ukrainian Airlines) delivered me directly to Kiev with no preliminary peeks of the countryside. I had to miss over half of that eastern segment of the country and wait for a look at rural Ukraine on my way out.

I've long believed in "marching to a different drum," but sometimes the alternate beat doesn't work. That appears to be the problem with my passionate desire to ride the rails between Astana and Kiev. Three days on the train--what fun that would be. However, I was obviously doing it in the wrong direction. One of the first things I learned in Kiev was that the Russian Embassy here routinely issues visas for the train (direction Kiev to Astana) for the pocket change of $25 versus the maxed out $450 Darth Vader in Almaty wanted. I was singing my melody in the wrong key.

Kiev qualifies as a beautiful city and although very green with some lovely parks, it falls short of Almaty in the sheer number of parks. However, it beats Almaty when it comes to Architecture. Right up there in the same class with Riga and Prague.

A holdover from my early days of wandering the planet before backpacker travel kicked in is that I resist the need to book ahead. Often I'm not even sure just when I'll arrive in any particular place, so I trust to luck and the travel gods to take care of things. The gods here in Kiev were napping a bit. The first hostel was full and the second was set to send me away until I put on such a sad face they found me a bed in with a lovely young Ukrainian woman--a teacher from Nikolaiv University near the southern coast.

It was late in the day when I finally settled in, so I didn't stray too far. Hunger did take me out far enough to discover a wonderful restaurant (PecTopaH), cafeteria style Ukrainian food at rock bottom prices, which saved me the hassle of trying to cope with a menu I can't read. Gotta love the advantage of being able to simply point at the food offerings. It's an even better option than Asian picture menus that don't always quite resemble what they really are.

Didn't do so well with my internet encounter. A big beefy Russian guy kept scowling at me saying, "Nyet, nyet, nyet." He didn't have a free computer, he didn't expect to have a free computer, and no he didn't want me to wait. Mostly, he didn't want me to wait because I might see the two guys who came after me get directed to the computers that were not available for me to use. Then a sweet Ukrainian girl turned and spoke to me in English. "I'll be through in a couple of minutes and you can have my computer," says she. Mr. Nyet was not happy with that, but unable to turn me away. I made a special point of finding a new computer place after that.

Early the next morning I set off to explore Kiev on foot. Map in hand I headed for Kreszczatik street (the main drag) and along the way started into the park, but was prevented from entering by a cordon of police. Suddenly I realized there were dozens of police surrounding the entire area. Haltingly I tried to enquire in Russian, "Chto vavava?" (YTO HOBOrO?) The answer, "Yushchenko, den Konstituti!" Okay...XOPOWO! Translation turned out to be "The President is speaking for Constitution Day." He seems to need more security than even Bush does, including the guys with special lenses watching all the rooftops. The group of VIP's walked from the park across the street to the Government Building and laid flowers at the monument in front, all to the accompaniment of a lovely choir of Ukrainian songs. I wasn't able to stroll through the park until the following day. After five days exploring the nooks and crannies of Kiev, I took a night train out to Lviv (Lvov) over near the western border with Poland. A charming city with an eclectic ping-pong history of ownership, Lviv was at one time part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Then for a time it was claimed by Poland, captured by the Germans during WW II and eventually grabbed as a part of the post-war spoils by Russia. Independance only came with the dissolution of the USSR in the early '90's.

I could have stayed on and on in Lviv, the cultural center of Ukraine. Wonderful architecture, cobblestone streets, open squares, to-die-for pastries, and friendly people who are strongly pro-western. What more could any traveler ask for. Extra time I guess, but since the plan was to meet up with my brother in Paris by 14 July, I had to get moving, so after four over-short days, I headed on to Poland where I will visit briefly with a friend in Warsaw. I can easily visualize a repeat visit to Ukraine.