Day Ten. Andrews Journey.

This entry is heavy with family history and emotion. I make no apology but am aware of the diversity of our readership and so feel I should offer an explanation of the change of tone. This entry is still a travel log but also contains comment on a personal, spiritual, journey.

In the opening entry of the blog we introduced you to 2 very important  people. Our baby son Tyler who died, during pregnancy, 3 months before the trip and our cousin Andrew who died in 2010 aged 23. Both have a part in the story of how this whole trip came about and both are very firmly in our hearts and very prominently in our minds every step (and train, plane, metro and infuriating Ukrainian junction) of the way. In a kinder alternative universe I would not be taking this trip but would be at home growing my son inside me, the idea of taking the trip seemed disloyal to him. That is until Auntie Fiona heard about it and shared with us that it had always been Andrews goal to visit Ukraine and in particular Chernobyl and that we could honour his memory as part of our trip. And so the trip became something more meaningful and right. For me, to honour Auntie Fiona’s wishes is also to fulfil Tyler's legacy and therefore to honour him too. If that doesn't add together and you want to understand more my blog Courageandhope.co.uk should explain.

But back to the journey. As you will know from earlier entries we had hoped to take a tour to Pryp'yat' within the Chernobyl exclusion zone, here we had hoped to leave a laminated card showing Andrew's picture and a short explanation of his wishes and link to his Facebook page. We were thwarted in this when all tours were cancelled in honour of the anniversary of the disaster and due to Orthodox Easter which fell at the time of our trip.


It came as no surprise to me that Kevin did not intend to allow this to get in the way of wishes he shared with cousin to get as close to the site as possible. And so we set off in our hire car early on the Ukrainian equivalent of Good Friday.

Our hire car is basic but modern and reliable and the air-con is good. The route looks straightforward as long as we can negotiate Kiev city and emerge on the correct road at the other side. After a tour of the area surrounding our hotel we are on our way.


This is our first full day in Ukraine and as we travel toward and then through Kiev we notice differences again in this new country. There is a lot more commercialism than we saw in Romania with advertising hoardings regularly spaced down the highway touting regular stuff such as mobile phones, jewellery and restaurants. Police speed traps are profusive, every kilometre or two, a cop with a speedgun. In Kiev construction is everywhere, there appears to be some considerable investment in infrastructure, we see a bridge, railway and roads under construction ; we resolve to learn more about the Ukrainian economy, there just isn't enough time to see and learn (and then write) everything in one trip!

As we leave the city behind we see beautiful rural Ukraine and it is closer to what we have seen in Romania. Villages grown around agriculture, roadside vendors selling veg, many roadside shops selling colourful plastic flowers, cranes/storks (we haven't fully established which) nesting on lamp posts, horse and carts, motorbike and sidecars.

Another hour and we are running out of villages. The scenery changes to forest, mile after mile of cooling evergreens. We start to look for clues that we are approaching the 30k exclusion zone enforced around the Chernobyl plant and village in the aftermath of 26th April 1986. An abandoned farm? Stern looking warning signs? Roads becoming increasingly empty of traffic.

We spot a pleasant picnic area and pull over to assess our position. I am not willing to discuss here my personal spiritual beliefs and the following is therefore offered in the most secular sense: it is here that I feel that I am no longer adventuring with just my husband, from this moment Andrew's spirit is very much with us. I can feel the 2 boys excitedly enjoying their adventure together. The GPS tells us we are 42k from Chernobyl village, a photo opportunity! We are 12k from The Zone.

We return to the car and continue following the predetermined route. We get closer and closer, Chernobyl village is now less than 30k away; this gives us a wobble, are we somehow skirting the border of the zone? Have we slipped through and if so is it wise to continue? Or have got it completely wrong and are actually in completely the wrong place?

Then we see a radiation warning sign, then 2 monuments either side of the road....and then! There it is. The barrier of a checkpoint across the road about 300m ahead.

We are not sure whether Ukrainians are acquainted with the concept of dark tourism, we do know that they are protective of their borders and that the language barrier will certainly hinder attempts to clear up any misunderstanding. So a brief stop, hastily snapped photograph and a prompt u-turn mark the pinnacle of our adventure.

We came to leave the memorial card for Andrew in Chernobyl so that he could, in spirit, make the journey he had wished for. Kevin knows just the place. We drive back about 1km to the monuments erected on the road. One is a beautiful, edgy structure constructed from dark stone. There is life here, trees grow, we see a beautiful brightly coloured lizard and ants scurry, but it is silent and still. Its perfect. It is isolated but we hope that someone will pass by and notice our small memorial to our friend who wanted to come here in life and now has been able to make the trip and share our adventure.

Day Nine. Kiev Central Station.

We leave our train at Kiev, I want to take a photo of it before it leaves, but as I set off up the platform I realise that the train is bigger, much bigger. When we left Suceava it had four coaches, now looking up and down there were at least 30! The train stretched out of sight around the gentle curve of the platform, my guess was it must be at least 1km long! I give up on walking to the front and took a photo from there.

Earlier I had asked the thin vodka guy about reserving our beds for the return journey, and he told us to do it today before we left the station. We arrived just after 9am, and I had booked the hire car for 11am, to allow time for such things. As we leave the platform the grand scale of Kiev station hits us, there's almost 100 ticket booths all numbered and countless shops selling everything from food, coffee and gifts to mobile phones and computers. And it's very busy, trains are arriving all the time, people are everywhere. The bustle is how I'd imagine Delhi to be. It even made Luton airport seem quiet.

We choose a ticket booth and wait in queue. When we get to the front the lady writes 7-8 on a bit of paper and sends us away. We are at window 79 and the lowest numbers we can see are in the 50's. Before we look for booth 7 we go outside to make sure our hire car wasn't waiting for us.

Once we were sure our car wasn't there we go back inside and over the tracks, here we find a older more ornate hall, with just a couple of booths. One had INFORMATION above it in English. We get to the front of the queue, the lady speaks no English but writes 7-8 on a bit of paper and points to a big door with Hall 3 above it and says "tourist"

Once inside Hall 3 we see windows 7 and 8 to our right. We queue at window 7 which has "international" above it. The lady looks at the tickets then sends us to the next window. Here the lady speaks English and we explain what we need to do. She understands, but sends us back to window number 7. From then on the transaction went quite smoothly.

Our next problem is that we have noticed the station is double fronted, one entrance on either side of the tracks, and we don't know which side the car will arrive. I try phoning both numbers on my confirmation, but get no answer.

Hoping that the girl who speaks English might be able to advise us, I go over to her booth. There's no one there so I go straight to the window. I ask her, she smiles, types on her keyboard and replies "I give no information here, you go to information kiosk" I thank her, and walk away saying "computer says no" under my breath. Knowing that the information kiosk lady speaks no English and would send me back to this booth, I decide to cut my losses.

Back outside, we try to spot our car, we are approached by "taxi" drivers every 15 seconds. One of them is more insistent than the others and says "I speak English" I ask him what we need to know, he says that he will take us to the address on the booking form. I try to tell him that it's no good as there is no body at the office. He doesn't understand, but from somewhere produces a Asian girl of about 12 whose English is fantastic. She explains this to the taxi driver, but he still insists that he takes us to the office. We thank them and decide to split up, I'll take the far tracks, and Carolyn will wait here.

A few minutes later, a man approaches saying "Paperwork, you show me" I give him the print out expecting him to take me to the car. "I can take you here" He says. I ask if that is for the hire car and he clearly doesn't understand, he's just another taxi driver. He is again insistent that he takes me to the address, and like magic the Asian girl appears. After much discussion she tells me that the driver says that the car won't come to this door, and I should wait at the other side.

Walking back through to meet Carolyn, my phone rings, and I am relieved to hear a Russian accent, it's the driver from the hire company and he is on his way.

We are relieved, our first taste of the Ukraine was difficult. It was hard to find commonalities between the languages, and the because of the different alphabet, even using the translation software on our phones is difficult.

Half a hour later a beaming guy climbs out of a small Chevy waving a bit of paper with my name on. "I'm sorry, the traffic in Kiev is really bad today"

All we have to do now is drive and navigate, through the traffic a local has struggled with.

Day Eight & Nine. Suceava to Kiev

As the train pulls into the platform, my first thought is that it was not the right one, not like the streamlined bullet train like pictures on the website, it is pulled by the same type of Romanian locomotive that bought us over the mountains. But once it stops at the platform it becomes obvious that it is our train.

The train staff speak only Russian and our tickets come under great scrutiny. Once aboard, the train guard points to her ring finger and then us. "Yes, we are married" we reply. We are ushered in to a cabin with two men on the bottom bunks, Carolyn seems happy that we are together rather than separate cabins as we were expecting.

We get fresh crisp bedding and set our beds up. Once we are comfortable we can take in our surroundings.

If I had to date our carriage, I would say somewhere in the 80's, about thirty years old, everything is very soviet looking, functional and built to last, it looks like it will last at least another thirty years at least.

At the end of the carriage is a coal burning stove, there's ash in the grate, and loose bits of coal about, it appears that it is still in use during winter.

The doors between the carriages look and feel like they are made from 2cm thick solid steel, they are painted battleship gray this coupled with the heat and closeness, makes it feel like I've walked into the set of Hunt For Red October.



It's not long before we reach the border, a
border officer comes and takes our passports. A short while later they are returned. Through the window I can see that the Romanian electric locomotive has been replaced with a noisy diesel one. When we set off it's at a steady pace. A watch tower and sign marks the border, that was much easier than I expected.



We stop again, this time a Ukrainian border guard gets on. He is wearing full military uniform, and barks at me to sit down. He inspects our passports and asks "tourist?" we reply "Da" He looks at us suspiciously and walks off with the passports. For the next 30 minutes to a hour, many differently dressed Ukrainian officials stomp up and down the carriage. Some of them start taking the train apart.

We eventually start moving, but without our passports, at the  Romanian checkpoint the train crew returned them before we left, we begin to wonder if they've been forgotten. The train comes to a halt in a marshaling yard.

We can see many dogs, and lots of men in shorts, socks and flip flops. I remembered reading that they had to change the wheels at the Ukraine border as the tracks are a different width and it became obvious that this was what was now happening.

The entire train was lifted in to the air by a series of screw jacks,

the action was so smooth, if you didn't look at a fixed point you didn't know that you were moving. All the while the new wheels were being put into place by a flimsy looking gantry cane. The old wheels were pulled out of one end, and the new ones pulled under the from other.

This impressive feat of heavy engineering was performed by the men in flip flops, and all the time the train was kept under close watch by soldiers and dogs begging at the windows for food. I wanted to take some photos, and video of the work, but my actions caught the eye of one of the soldiers and she started to march towards me gesturing No! I put my phone away disappointed, and I didn't get the opportunity to film more, we were being watched far too closely.

Once the work was completed the train was reversed back to the checkpoint and the border guard grudgingly returned our papers. The locomotive was replaced by a slightly less noisy diesel, and we were on our way again at a steady pace.

The buffet car had two tables, and a large kiosk with a display of chocolate, alcohol, cigarettes and crisps. A thin Russian guy was buying some Vodka, every time the chef added Vodka, the thin guy told him to add more, eventually his cup was full to the top with neat Vodka. He then appeared to negotiate the price. Once his transaction was complete the thin man greeted us in English, and offered to help us with the menu. We chose beef and potatoes. He advised us that we should come back after the next station but pay now, he then negotiated our price and told us "That is very good price"

We had brought our own beer and wine, so we decided to take these straight back to the buffet car and enjoy a drink while we waited for our meal.

We hadn't been sat long when the chef appeared with two plates of pretty good steak and chips with a fresh side salad. Afterwards we had a mug each of whole leaf tea and some Russian chocolate, it was the best meal I've had in a train by a very long way.

After dinner we both got a pretty good night's sleep, and we woke on a mainline with the train making good speed, it was only a couple of hours to Kiev, the journey had seemed to fly by.

The scenery is now dominated by massive pine forests, the occasional village with a Lada or motorbike and sidecar waiting at the level crossing. Many of the trees were full of Mistletoe, great balls hung from the branches, I wondered if they had the same Christmas tradition as us, and if not, was that the reason why the Mistletoe was doing so well.

We had brought our own breakfast, so after a quick clean up we sat in the buffet car and ate croissants. We were alone, as we were the following night. It seems that the buffet car doesn't get much use, and that two tables are plenty. After breakfast we pack and prepare to disembark at Kiev.

Day Eight. Leaving Suçeava.

Oh my God. I have never felt so foreign. Today we are leaving Suceava to head to Kiev in the Ukraine.

 The train is at 1pm and we are anxious not to get caught up in anything which may cause any delays. We have had a better night's sleep thanks to earplugs and less dog conversations. Breakfast is a very intimate affair in keeping with the personal feel of Pensiune Rhapsodia. After breakfast a bit of divide and conquer; Kev goes for cash while I finish packing (there's a theme emerging!). By 10am we have 3 hours to kill. We decide to try a walk, the temperature and humidity are suffocating, our phones say its 20 degrees but it feels much hotter. We approach the edge of a Roma area, identifiable by its rough built shacks and dark skinned children who never fail to melt my heart. There is a boy of about 10 swinging a light chain, it appears to be in a playful rather than threatening manner but we decide to take a cautious line and accept this as our cue to head back to the pensiune, its too hot for walking anyway.

Eventually it time to head to the station, we still arrive over an hour early. The station is bustling and there's a holiday feeling in the air as people carry Easter gifts and children show off new bicycles which are excitedly ridden up and down the platform without reprimand from parent or guard, parents here seem less over protective and children subsequently enjoy more freedom, another echo from British childhood of earlier decades.

We find a seat inside as its cooler. A motherly, stout Romanian lady in traditional flowing skirt and headscarf asks us a question which, helped by alot of gesture and words from randomly thrown in European languages, we discover is an enquiry about our destination. Now she has discovered we are tourists she takes us under her wing. She talks to us in long streams of Romanian, and we are amazed at how much meaning filters through. Her only English words are "I love you", and a loving character she is indeed. She tells us about an English musical she once enjoyed at the cinema (or maybe it was  Bollywood?) Then she gives us a detailed warning about thieves while we are travelling who will, given a chance, take our mobiles, our clothes and beg for money for their children then watch where we keep our wallets to come back and steal them when we are a asleep. All this when our only shared words are I love you, thank-you, with pleasure, and goodbye (the latter 3 in Romanian). When its time to go she double kisses us in the Romanian greeting reserved for valued friends, and it feels right, I feel like I just received some Romanian mothering.

I feel foreign again when neither the guards on the train, nor our cabin mates , respond to either English or my hastily accrued Romanian. The guard recruits the nearest under 25 year old who obliges. Full respect to the multi lingual Eastern European youth. We are allocated 2 beds in a cabin together, we were previously told mixed gender cabins were not allowed so this is a bonus but I hope the 2 Bulgarian males already resident don't mind, I can't ask them as there are no young people around!

The only thing I can compare the cabin to in appearance is a prison cell with its 4 bunks in very close proximity. Our companions, being here before us have of course claimed the bottom bunks so we are opposite each other in the top. At first the "other-ness" of it along with the recent breakdown in trans- national communication stresses me out a bit; but the Bulgarians are welcoming in the few words and gestures we manage to exchange, the guard brings us clean bedding and their is air-con. This may be one of the most basic nights sleep I have ever had but I am safe and warm (or rather cool) , a reminder of what's actually important.

Day Seven. Suçeava

We arrived in Suçeava it had been a long journey and we we're tired.  The "taxi" drove away as soon as he'd dropped us off, leaving us in a cloud of dust.

We stood and starred at our  pension, it was in darkness, I pushed the gate, it was locked. I spotted a buzzer on the gate post, pushing the button, nothing seemed to happen. I tried the gate again, it swung open.

The door was locked, but again there was another button.  Eventually a stern, surprised looking woman answered the door.  I explained we had a reservation, she shrugged.  I tried again, and she said "Of course" and gestured for us to enter.

She gave us a choice of rooms, we chose the one with a bath, and she left us to settle in.  When we left for dinner it struck us what a strange location was, a bit like finding a mansion on the centre of a run down council estate.

We were both very hungry, so opted to go straight out to eat.  The first decent looking place we found was called London Pub, we wasn't looking for somewhere to remind us of home, the food was okay, and the pub was nothing like anything you would find in London, but we welcomed the sustenance.

We returned to the hotel, and the joys of Romanian hotel plumbing, the bath was welcome, but we couldn't get it to drain, and when we did the room was filled with sewer stench. But it still was good to have a soak rather than a shower

When we got settled to sleep, we heard some dogs barking, it got louder and louder, and just when you thought it had stopped, they started again.

By 1am, I was ready to walk out and find somewhere new, but I fell asleep, and didn't wake till sunrise.

In the morning, both very tired, we debated whether to spend a second night, or cut our losses and checkout. We decided to talk it over after breakfast, and once we'd had some coffee inside of us.

Breakfast was fantastic, a range of local cheeses, tasty tomatoes, and cold cuts, with a freshly cooked omelette to boot.  We felt better after food, and decided that we would use our second night, no way could the same happen again, could it?

Suçeava, has a more modern feel than Cluj, but still feels stuck in the 1980's, it's part of the charm of Romania, but understandably, it's not something they are proud of.  The oldest buildings in Suçeava seem to be the churches, of which there are many, Stephen the Great built a new church every time he won a battle, it appears he was a successful war monger.  Every other building however appears to be a concrete tower block.

Suçeava does have a lovely plaza with stone paving and a pedestrianised street, something we didn't see in the traffic bustle of Cluj.  An Easter display had been made on the square, giant rabbits and eggs made of tinsel, it was illuminated at night and did look fantastic.

Either we missed something, or there's not much to see in Suçeava, we did have a couple of top notch meals and managed to get provisions for our journey to Kiev.

The monasteries are supposed to be fantastic, but, all but one you need transport to see, so it's not possible on this trip.

You do see the Ukrainian/Russian influence here, the language is slightly different, both in accent and the way it is written, you see fairer skinned people, some with blond hair.

After a lovely meal in the Latino restaurant we make our way back to the pension, in the distance we can hear dogs barking....

Day Six. Travel, Carolyn's perspective.

So now we are out of the city on the 7 hour, 320km train journey from Cluj to Suçeava. Despite our fears and many a cautionary tale from inhabitants of Cluj the train is not unpleasant. The carriages are arranged into compartments of the type we are used to seeing in period dramas of early 20th century England with two rows of 4 seats facing inward. The 8 seats are full as we begin our journey, with a cross section of society represented. Ourselves (declaring ourselves as tourists when our  first words are an apology for our lack of the native language), a very friendly well dressed Romanian lady and her teenage daughter who offer to converse with us in Spanish (another apology!) and later to share their snacks with us, a lady in more traditional dress and her little girl (probably Roma), the obligatory cheerful (drunk) chatty man with an aroma of alcohol who, on discovering we are Western European, wants to regail us with details of his 2 years in the South of France (my French is better than my Romanian or Spanish but I decide to keep this detail to myself (giving a blank face beyond ça-va bien) and a young Romanian student who's mistake is to reveal she has a little English and henceforth becomes chatty man's reluctant translator.

The carriage is hot, the air conditioning we were hoping for, was either broken or none existent.  But once the train left the station, the breeze from the window made the journey comfortable.

Most of our fellow travellers are taking shorter journeys and after a few stations we can settle to enjoying the frumos (that's beautiful, my Romanaste is coming on) view as we climb into the mountains.

The sky is blue with fluffy clouds, the air is full of bright sunshine. The trees are in blossom and the air smells pure. My previous experience of mountains comes largely from the Lake District where they are clustered together withing a few miles and rise at relatively uniform inclines, forming, in the main, into small tarns or steep giants. Here is different, the mountain area rolls for miles and miles, there are mounds and hills, slopes, undulations, terraces, flat parts which have been farmed, populated with clusters of homes, claimed for industry or grown into copses of fir trees. It reminds me of the eclectic mix of architecture in Cluj but on the grander, more majestic scale of nature.

Our decision to travel by train is vindicated as it lives up to my hope that we will see rural Romania in its glory and beauty. I have seen haystacks, I have  seen horse and carts, I have even seen a haystack on a horse and cart. Guards come put of their station to stand in acknowledgement even when our train is simply passing through. A group of people appear to have pooled labour to turn over a neighbours plot of land ready for spring planting.

We arrive in Suçeava , having left the security of our Romanian hosts behind, feeling privileged once again to be taking this journey.

Day Six. Travel, Kev's perspective.

As we take our seats, I have a feeling of dread, the carriage is hot, and a loud drunk Romanian man wants most of the space in the seat next to me. He is shouting and waving, this is going to be a long journey.

Soon after we leave the station the carriage starts to cool down, but the drunk is now having a heated argument in Romanian with another passenger and gesturing to us. We've only left twenty minutes and it looks like all the stories we'd heard about the train were true.

 Then suddenly he leaves, gesturing to us as he goes. The lady who he was arguing with explains in broken English that he has left because "He has had enough of us" Quite what we'd done, I've no idea.

The carriage feels more comfortable now, and I feel I can leave Carolyn safely and view Romania crawling past through the open window.

Cluj slides into the distance, abandoned industrial sites start to give way to ramshackle small holdings, farmers working fields by hand, some ploughing by horse and a few with tired looking tractors.

As we travel further, the buildings get further apart and the train starts to climb the mountain railway. We see storks nesting on the top of pylons. The mix of old and new, doesn't seem to change however, a grand house stands next to a shack with broken cars in between.

Occasionally the train slows the and we stop at a station, which normally don't have a platform, just a kerb between the tracks. Other times it slows to cross a weak bridge, the churning river can be seen between the rails.

It is impossible to try to describe the mountains and do them justice, lush and green, with spruce trees covering the tops. The occasional snow topped giant in the distance, which feels bizarre in this heat. You can smell the fresh air entering the cabin, the regular lumber yards impart the smell of freshly cut pine.

Eventually we crest the mountains and start to descend towards Suçeava, the mountain air is replaced by the smell of hot metal as the train struggles to hold back the weight of it's load.

The drunk from earlier returns, he is somewhat more sober, and starts to tell us in a mix of French, English, Romanian and mime; How hard he has to work, showing us his scars and calloused hands, and how much he loves his wife and two and half year old son.

A man comes down the train, looks into our compartment and says something in Romanian, and the drunk (Roy) gives him short shrift and gestures to us no. The man leaves carrying a flask. We'd been warned not to accept coffee off anybody while on the train, because we would likely end up drugged and robbed. I've a feeling Roy has done us a favour.

Another man enters, this time silently. He empties a bag onto a empty chair, there's a noisy toy which he demonstrates, a nail kit, tools, torches and a massager, which he demonstrates to each of us in turn. He leaves taking his bag, but leaving his stuff. Each item has a price tag. Roy explains that the man is deaf. Shortly he returns and Carolyn purchases the manicure set for 10leu. Roy gives him a couple of Leu, and the deaf man refuses, but Roy insists. I think that we might have got Roy all wrong.

Through the window the reverse of our departure from Cluj is happening and the lush vegetation starts to be a replaced by dry ploughed fields and then broken factories. The land is much flatter, the fields larger and the tractors are newer.

The guard comes to see us, he is wearing a woollen suit and cap, it matches the ones the station guards wear when they stand to attention as the train passes, even if it doesn't stop. He told us that the next station is Suçeava and the train will wait ten minutes. We thanked him and remarked how hot he must have been in the 30° heat.

We leave the train, and almost immediately a heavily tanned man approaches. "Taxi!" he shouts. We show him our reservation confirmation "I know it" he says. "how much?" l ask in English with my best Romanian accent, and he pulls out a big roll of notes from his pocket, he pulls out a ten and a five, and we say "Da". He leads us to a dirty Passat with a broken windscreen, our bags go in the boot, we climb in the back, forgetting that we are in Romania and reach for the seat belts, only to find they have been removed, as usual.

As we leave the car park he stops to talk to a friend, I get the feeling he is asking for directions. It's 5 minutes driving before he pulls up to a taxi rank, and this time I'm sure he's asking for directions. The taxi drivers oblige, but all the time look at us with slightly worried faces. "colleagua" our driver says as we pull away. 100m down a rutted dirt road is our pension, it looks out of place in this area, like finding a mansion on a council estate. We push the button on the security gate and enter for our first night in Suçeava.

Below you will find a video of the journey, each bit of film is from a different stage, you can see the scenery change. The whole six hour journey is compressed into 20 minutes. The total journey was 318km, top speed 99.1km/h, average speed 50km/h, total time 6h:21m, and time stationary 29mins