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The
swifts soared in the evening light. The white moon
stood out clearly in the deep blue sky. The grey
stone buildings were strangely similar, on one side
of a curling road, to Regent street London whilst
on the other side mini Empire State buildings abounded.
The band, on stage, switched from a haunting folk
song to the can-can. The packed street and pavement
heaved with a hotch potch of people. The balloon
sellers, the gaily coloured stall holders and the
lucky booze purveyors where having a bumper day.
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Earlier I had watched as three bands
and a traditionally dressed group had marched down
Kreschatik street. The last band, playing the Ukraine
national anthem, was followed by a hoard of ordinary
people marching and singing as they swept the six
lane main street clear of any interlopers.
Later in the darkness a rock band played, swathed
in artificial smoke punctuated by strobing coloured
lights. A hot air balloon stood proudly erect. Fire
works banged and the alcohol consumption fell as that
already consumed proved to be enough for most people. |
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Finally, as the witching hour approached,
the main street of Kiev was reopened to traffic as
convoys of police vehicles with flashing lights drove
the merrymakers off the highway and reminded would-be
trouble makers that the party was over.
I had witnessed the carnival that is put on to celebrate
Kiev's national day. As I wandered around that afternoon
and evening it seemed to me that the whole of Kiev
was on the streets. The party seemed to be exactly
as I found Kiev. The younger people were relaxed and
enjoying themselves. Those older and wiser allowed
themselves a wry smile and a fickle laugh. The police
presence was unsubtle and whilst not threatening,
evidently the police are held in greater respect than
their western counterparts. It was a jolly event that
clearly needed policing, however during my four day
stay I felt that there was always some big brother
in the back ground. In night bars and even restaurants
there seemed to be that lurking figure who just did
not fit in. The KGB may be defunct but organised crime
continues to provide that creepy feeling so beloved
by spy thriller writers and film makers. |
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| At Kiev airport I found the officials
strangely courteous although they seemed to be trying
to be bloody minded. Outside my guiding star had requisitioned
a battered Volga taxi, which hid at the back of the
empty car park for fear of upsetting the authorised
battered Volga users association. Half way down the
surprisingly good three lane dual carriageway to the
city, the driver swore and braked heavily into the
side of the road. |
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| I looked around anxiously for signs
of assistance. A few similar vehicles passed intermingled
with battered lorries, and the heard of cows carelessly
grazing across the highway barely seemed road trained.
I asked politely what was up. 'Do not worry,' was
the answer, 'this is Russian reality.' I did not think
Russian reality was going to do much for my Gucci's,
or my sense of humour, but the driver blew away the
smoke, fiddled in the engine and then much to my surprise
the vehicle started. |
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| The outskirts, of Kiev, was everything
I had expected. Dirty, smoke bleached, falling down
factories. Then grey housing blocks, battered cars
and tattered infrastructure. I realised that we had
got to the centre when the traffic began to pick up,
by that I mean we actually started getting stuck behind
other road users. The Ukraine Hotel looked awful on
the outside, although located on the attractive Schevchenko
Boulevard just off Kreschatic street in a green area
close to the university. At night they hid the facade
by turning off all outside lights, this seemed common
practice with all the hotels. Whether this was to
save money, or due to an electricity shortage because
of a problem a few years back with a local power station,
I do not know. The best feature of the hotel was a
splendid staircase that swept up through the buildings
seven floors, for some reason that nobody could explain
the ground floor was marked two on the lift control. |
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Around the city centre I was impressed
with general external standard of the buildings. Some
buildings like the Opera House built in a Russian
Gothic style were splendidly adorned, however elsewhere
there was no sign of run down, uncared for and unpainted
buildings normally so prevalent in this region. There
is plenty in the shops but at prices that were way
above what the average Ukrainian could afford. The
Ukrainian Coupon is a pathetic apology for a currency,
produced in haste to separate Ukraine currency from
the Russian Rouble having depreciated, against Western
Currencies at a rate four times faster than the Rouble
and to add insult to injury the currency notes are
of such a poor standard that the government has been
forced to ban colour copiers because reproducing the
notes was just as fast and easy as the machine would
run and the guillotine could be worked. Another problem
with the new currency is that there are no coins,
as a result if you can find a coin box that works
local calls are free. Mind you the number of non-pay
phones working seemed quite high - no reason to break
into them!
For those with hard currency there were luxuries a
plenty. For the 5,000 odd Ex-pat population there
is an increasing number of hard currency outlets to
provide all and more you may get at home at prices
that would make a hardened cafe owner on The Champs
Elyesee blush. |
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| The Eldorado restaurant and Bar (13,
Krasnoarmeyskaya St.) claims to be the best and has
prices to match. I was going to eat there until a
whisky and water cost me $12 (inc. $4 for the water),
I then realised that the $85 set menu, which looked
very good, would probably end up at $200 per person
by the time a little wine had been consumed, especially
if I got out of hand with a wine list that included
Dom Perignon. |
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| The pick of the hard currency restaurants
seemed to be The Apollo (15, Kreschatik St. passage)
with a small bar and a wonderful art decor room with
classic paintings on the ceiling, red wallpaper and
multi coloured friezes. Caviar, spag. bol. strawberries
and cream and three beers came to $60. The ambience
was good and the service, not only here, seemed to
destroy the myth that communism destroys service.
I also ate at Slavuta (14, Gorky St.) which was a
popular spot a reasonable meal for two including a
bottle of Californian Chablis and smoked reindeer
with scrambled eggs came to $43 for two. The Dniper
Hotel restaurant for a very acceptable lunch, for
two, charged Coupon 31,000 ($10) plus $6 for two beers,
the main item on the bill was a bottle of Hungarian
Olaz Riesling at Cpn.9728 ($3+). In other words if
you are economising keep away from hard currency places.
Just down the road from my hotel was the Runa Bar
( Schevchenko Boulevard 2), which was full of ex-pats
swilling back German beer for $2 for about half a
pint. |
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There are other attractions. The bar
and casino at Hotel Russ provided plenty of spending
opportunities with all the classic vices readily available.
The advertising material exuded that they had everything
but Russian Roulette. However if as the well oiled
international soft drink vendor, who hailed from New
York and Ukraine, loudly warned the assembled company,
the girls are likely to arrange to have pictures taken
at certain interment moments with the idea to a further
pay off, is true. Then maybe even that slogan is untrue
for surely that was the game he was playing.
So that was a week-end of Russian Reality. Over charged
foreigners, overpaid hoods and underpaid locals. If
you want to ride into Kiev take plenty of dollars,
don't ask too many questions and you'll probably have
a good time. The streets are attractive in the day,
reasonably safe at night and every car is a potential
taxi.
C YA |
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