Sputnik Adventures

Hey Sputniki, getting some more of the backlog pruned back. I can start by recalling my arrival at Kyiv’s Borispol airport, the first stop in Ukraine. I was minus one checked bag per usual. I had only decided that I would proceed directly to Sevastopol, on the Crimean Peninsula’s Black Sea coast, not where I was actually staying. So, I took the airline’s phone number and my claim information with me onto the next plane. It was another two-hour flight piggy-piled on my jetlagged frame, but by that time who’s counting.

It was 9 pm local time, dark but pea-soup warm outside when we arrived at Simferopol, Crimea’s hub, 90 minutes from the coast. I threaded the gauntlet of insistent taxi drivers until I was finally worn down by one who would take me to the train station, for who knows how long a wait until the next train to Sevastopol. I sweated the price out of him just before he got my bags in the trunk–100 hryvnia (about $20)–too much, in my opinion. Another taxi driver hovering nearby was quick to pounce. He had already gathered my final destination was Sevastopol–for three times what the other guy would charge me to the train station, this one would go the whole distance. We bartered a bit but struck a deal, and off we went.

In Sevastopol, the hotels were all booked in peak season, so my taxi driver sold me on renting a friend’s apartment. It was too late to argue. We proceeded apace to his friend Luba’s apartment–comfortable, clean, and $20 a night. As an added bonus, the apartment door had been salvaged from the cruise liner United States, which I had often seen as a boy, moored on New York’s west side. I showered and crashed.

The next morning I took in the deal I had struck. The apartment was a converted garage next to a clean stucco home built into the hill overlooking town. the yard was a terraced profusion of flowers, herbs, and vegetables, studded with benches and a veranda to take in the view. Breakfast was waiting, and the Crimea was mine. Tell you all about it in a bit. Cheers

Sputnik Lee

PS Sorry to be bouncing around like this. Anyone who thinks travel is a linear experience has another thing coming. S-L

Hey Sputniki, welcome back. Got a few minutes before I hop on the train from Volgograd to Ufa, Bashkortostan’s capital, so I’ll continue to hack away at the blog backlog.

So, the police (I never quite grasped what flavor of gendarme they were; Russia’s got umpteen different types) ask me to their office, a dusty kiosk at the corner of the train station square. Again, this validates them as legitimate officers, but then the fun starts. ‘Where are you heading to?’ ‘I don’t know yet; I’m on vacation.’ ‘Do you have any medicines, weapons, narcotics, or contraband in your possession?’ ‘Of course not.’ ‘Will you permit a search?’ Now we were getting down to brass tacks. I would not permit a search of my person; it is my right as a foreign citizen to ask that such searches be conducted at police headquarters, and this I did. This seemed to amuse the officers, and a funny (a ha-ha funny, thank God) kind of silence followed for a few seconds. A torrent of Russian followed, which causes my understanding levels to plummet. I respond with a torrent of English, which had the same effect on them, although doubtless they understood the key words American citizen’ and ‘consulate’. After we all reach a sane level, they say, ‘Look, can we just have a look in your backpack?’ I give in and open everything up. Inside is the usual assortment of travel junk. My name was duly logged in their ledger, and I was turned loose.

The whole incident would barely be worth mentioning but for a curious epilogue. I went back to the train station and asked a ticket agent about the next day’s train to Ufa. As soon as the question was out of my mouth the agent took a quick look at me, excused herself from her desk, and left the office, delivering a piece of paper to a presumed plain-clothes man who was talking with my two officers in the main hall. Coincidence? We’ll find out when/if I catch my train this morning to Ufa. Stay tuned.

Sputnik Lee

A little late off the mark getting this first post up, but hello all. I'm Lee Tarricone and glad you can join me as a sputnik ('co-traveler') for this trip. I'm way behind so must as usual start at the ... [Continue reading this entry]