я не понедельник: Два дні в Києві

Родина-Мать Mother of the Motherland

An hour and fifteen minutes by plane south west from Moscow you can find Kyiv, one gem of a city. Flying out on Thursday afternoon and returning to the Motherland on Sunday afternoon proved to be a perfect weekend getaway and a great way to end the New Year break. Taking a chance on an internet hotel booking that did not ask for a credit card to hold the reservation, we hopped a cab from Boryspil International Airport with our fingers crossed. The landscape was very familiar down to the forest of birch trees that lined the highway heading towards the city from the airport. Speeding along the almost deserted roadway (a nice change, to be sure) we passed buildings that once again, seemed to echo the Muscovite landscape but on a somewhat smaller scale. The architecture here, however, seem different in that the Soviet-style bloc apartment dwellings are in the process of being replaced with modern, almost whimsical structures that bear no resemblance to the imposing, square, standardized structures of the recent past.

My first impression is that Kyiv is a city in flux.

Driving through the city streets, secretly hoping that the taxi driver wasn’t taking us on a "ride", I was once again struck by Kyiv’s resemblance to Moscow. The grand boulevards, the imposing architecture and the streets filled with vehicles. There were not quite as many luxury vehicles on the road as I am used to - hang on, how did that happen?!! How did I get used to seeing S class Mercedes and Bentleys and Porsches everywhere?!!! - but they were present, nonetheless. The buildings lining the streets were just as ornately decorated as they are in Moscow but seem to be less imposing somehow, as if they are there as safe structures offering comfort and are not meant to dominate the landscape by intimidation. This, of course, could be due to a number of factors, not the least of which is the fact that Kyiv is a city of 2.8 million people as opposed to Moscow’s 18 million. Size does matter in these circumstances. The impact is certainly impressive, either way. A wide variety of building materials are being used to redefine the landscape by celebrating the possibilities of colour, form and function. It is almost as if the city were a teenager, trying on every possible persona in order to find the right fit.

Our taxi driver pulled into the hotel driveway, in truth a laneway between two buildings, and let us off at the main entrance. True to its internet photos, the threshold gave onto a clean, modern and tastefully decorated hotel lobby. I was bracing for the worst (i.e. Ms Who? What reservation? No, I’m sorry, we don’t have you down for a room and we are full for the night.) but as always, hoping for the best (i.e. Why, yes, Ma'am. We have your room ready and we have upgraded you to an executive suite, just because you have kind eyes.). The truth of the matter was somewhere in between. Our room was ready up on arrival and they were not interested in taking a credit card number as a security deposit. I’m not entirely sure why they did not as doing so is an industry standard but who was I to argue? I’m all for not handing out my digits whenever possible.

Two keycards in hand, we turned the corner and swiped our way in the elevator up to the 10th floor to our surprisingly luxurious room overlooking the sprawling city. I was so thrilled with the space, the decor and the bathroom that I couldn’t settle down. It took me about 10 minutes before I finished exploring and finally took my coat off. Mr. U was ready to strangle me but I eventually got my act together. You’d think that I had never stayed in a hotel before. I have no idea what came over me. Needless to say, I was very pleased that the risk payed off. You never know what you’re going to get when you book online with an independent hotel. There is no Starwood, Hilton or Marriott presence yet in Kyiv so we went with a stand alone hotel in a central neighbourhood that had a very professional website and positive reviews. The hotel was everything that the site promised and more. I love happy endings.

The sun rises and sets earlier in Kyiv than it does at home so by mid afternoon the sun was starting to sink low on the horizon. Since we had been on the move and this was our third city in as many days, (we spent one night in Moscow between Helsinki and Kyiv) we decided to take it easy, eat dinner in the hotel restaurant and make it an early night. Once again, the results far exceeded expectations. From the moment we stepped out of the elevator on the 15th floor to be greeted by a tall, lithe, willowy beauty who escorted us to our table by the window to the very attentive and professional serving staff to the outstanding offerings from the very talented and creative chef and his team, our dining experience proved to be a gastronomic delight of epic proportions; so much so that we decided to take all of our dinners in the restaurant. That proved to be a very wise and delicious decision.

Here are a few highlights...our compliments to the chef.

Portrait of Our Girl in Moscow and Mr. U (vodka/cranberry and dirty martini)

avocado purée and crabmeat salad topped with creme fraîche and 24k gold leaf

spun sugar and fresh berries dusted with gold powder on chocolate in a shortbread shell

molten chocolate cake garnished with spun sugar and a side of fresh raspberry sorbet

We did not go to Kyiv for the chicken, which we never actually had, but to experience the city and visit some key highlights.

Our first day exploring took us down into the metro system to emerge in an open air park with monuments erected to commemorate the tragic events of 29-30 September, 1941 at Бабин Яр ravine. We walked through the now peaceful, snow and ice-covered park, once witness to one of the most brutal and swift attacks by the Germans to eradicate the Jewish population of Kyiv. There are a number of monuments silently standing vigil throughout the natural space, erected as a testament to the memory of the thousands of Soviet lives lost at Babi Yar. Now the space has been reclaimed by children throwing snowballs, old men shuffling along while walking their dogs and young mothers sitting quietly with their babies nestled safely in their carriages.

Haunting

Before heading over to Родина-Мать across town, the contents of the 0,6L bottle of water I consumed before leaving the hotel decided to work itself through my system and now wanted out. Earlier I had noticed a sign that read туалеты and upon returning to the same spot, I let Mr. U know that I had to “go”. This was met with the obligatory comment “of course you do”, accompanied by the quintessential long-suffering sigh that only an exasperated husband can emit. I also needed a few bucks from Mr. U to purchase toilet paper from the only somewhat grumpy бабушка who presided over the toilet grotto. For the equivalent of 25 cents I was permitted to help myself to what was meant to pass for hygienic paper. I was just grateful there was that option.

Using my powers of deduction and reading the pictograms above the portico, I followed the outside signs to the left side entryway. With her back to me, I thought the attendant was beckoning me to follow her but apparently I misread that cue. She shooed me out of there and another woman urged me to follow her to the other side which I gladly did. The left side appeared to be caked with decades of grime and filth and your guess is as good as mine as to what other Evil may have been lurking in the shadows. Apparently the two foot tall letters painted on the inner wall of the grotto contradicted the exterior pictograms and reversed the placement of the gender-segregated facilities. Feeling slightly more confident that I knew where to go and what to do and bracing myself for a squat toilet, I pressed my way through the seemingly random turnstile. Making a mental note that there were hand-washing facilities, I hurried into the dimly-lit alcove as my biological need outweighed my need to sightsee.

Some of you may already know that I purchased new glasses a few months ago and for the first time not only do I have progressive lenses but I also have Transitions coating on the lenses. This means that when exposed to UV light, the lenses become dark and they fade gradually in order to protect one’s eyes. I really could have used a faster fade because it was at this point that I realized the dimly-lit alcove was actually illuminated by a single candle sitting in the middle of the alcove. The four stalls (two on either side) were elevated as per usual and did, indeed, have doors for privacy. I instantly remembered from a grade eight science unit I used to teach that light energy does not bend. This then meant that once I was behind the closed door, the only light that might possibly sneak through to help ensure that I did not pee all over myself (sorry to be so crude) would seep under the hinged plywood door. Compound this with glasses that might as well have been made from obsidian and a naturally clumsy disposition and no coat hook in sight and you have what is commonly known as a recipe for disaster - just add water. No matter how vigorously I waved my glasses, they just wouldn’t fade and no matter how I tried to position myself and not touch any surface with any part of my body, I’m sure I must have. Sometimes it is just better not to know.

For all intents and purposes, I was working blindly. I just gave in, closed my eyes and through my now heightened sense of touch and feel, somehow managed to do what needed to be done. I’m pretty sure I actually hit my target which in this case was anywhere in the gaping hole in the ground and not on my shoes or clothing. The entire time all I could think to myself was why didn’t I have my Go Girl with me?!!! Things would have been so much easier if I had that lilac-coloured, silicone, “lady funnel” in my bag. It was a Christmas present from a friend and dangit, it would have made all the difference in the world. FYI http://www.go-girl.com/ Yes, MB, you were right.

I washed my hands twice. I didn’t care that the water was glacial, I was just grateful for the soap.

Just as Mr. U was about to send in the cavalry on a recon mission, I egressed and we were on our way. I was still slightly shaken by the entire experience while Mr. U insisted that this little "episode" should appear in the blog. I mean really, a candle? A CANDLE?!!

Continuing with our theme of monuments to the Great Patriotic War, we hopped on the metro once again and headed across town to see Родина-Мать, The Mother of the Motherland. I used the map on my iPhone to get us from the metro stop to the monument. The most direct route had us following the road to approach the massive monument from the right side. We also approached it from below. Something interesting about Kyiv, we quickly discovered, is that it is built on terrain of varying heights. We had to climb quite a few flights of stairs hewn into the rock in order to access the monumental statue. Our cardio endurance is in need of some serious help. Mental note #1: spend more time with the treadmill this year. Mental note #2: do my research more effectively. There was a better way to get there.

Coffee snail (dafuq?) at Родина-Мать

At this point the rain was starting to pour down, so we cut our losses, grabbed a cab and returned to the hotel to warm up and rest our weary feet. I was looking forward to a date with the bathtub and some bubbles that I wasn’t willing to break. (Can you blame me? The tub had soft panels to lean on so your back wouldn’t get cold!) Feeling once again refreshed and well-rested, we returned to our own personal garden of gastronomic delights and dined well on the 15th floor.

Saturday’s roster of activities included a visit to the Chernobyl museum and the Chimera House with a brief stop in the city center along Хрещатик street (the main shopping street in Kyiv which is closed to vehicular traffic on the weekends). We chose to get around town on foot and by metro which proved to be a very wise and convenient choice, albeit a touch scary for me. The deepest metro in Moscow is 84m deep but in Kyiv the stations are deeper than that. Often there are two seemingly endless escalators to take you down to the train platforms. I’m not a fan of long escalators as you know so this certainly did not help things. I do have to admit that the Moscow Metro doesn’t seem all that scary anymore. It is all a matter of perspective, I guess.

Day two will speak for itself through photos as you have suffered through quite enough of my musings and this girl does (eventually) know when to stop talking.

Патріарший кафедральний собор св. Володимира/St. Volodymyr's Cathedral