Spring Break Part 3: Ukraine: 7 Days, 4 Cities, 3 Trains, and Mountains of Easter Cake

Kievo-Pecherskaya Lavra

Despite having lived with three Ukrainian students, by the time I boarded my plane to Kiev I had managed to memorize only a handful of words, and had absolutely no understanding of the Cyrillic alphabet. So, I was a bit nervous. Thankfully, most everyone I met was willing to try out some of their English on me (whether they had visited the U.S. and were practically fluent, or had taken it 35 years ago as a middle school student). I also laughed my way through a few conversations in mime.  Nevertheless, I’m not sure if I would have survived without the translations of Mariya (my family’s second exchange student) and her family and friends, who were my truly generous hosts for the week. To respect people’s privacy, I try to avoid writing specifics about everyone I meet, but I would like to say that the Ukrainians (and Russian) I met were unquestionably my favorite part of this country.

For the sake of brevity, I’ll divide my week by city:

Eaten by a cat in Landscape Alley

Kiev: My first and last stop in Ukraine, Kiev is a city built on rolling hills, which means you can find great views, but the (impeccably clean) metro runs at times almost 350 feet below ground. Buses are crammed, monuments majestic, and the sun when it hits the copper domes of the churches creates some of the most beautiful light I’ve ever seen. At Kievo-Pecherskaya Lavra, a number of churches have been constructed over caves, which serve as catacombs. Although the caves had closed before my visit, the bright icons and ornate architecture still made a lasting impression. Toward the heart of the city, you can walk along Landscape Alley, where bizarre sculptures in rainbow tile and seesaw benches entertain passersby of any age.

Snowbells on Ai-Petri

A more tame monkey at the Yalta Zoo

Yalta: This southern city on the coast of the Black Sea was the setting of the Yalta Conference and Anton Chekhov’s short story “Lady with a Dog.” Today it is a touristy, pretty town where you can encounter a lot of nature, but are also likely to have a chinchilla shoved in your face for a photo opportunity (not free, of course). The tulips and daffodils blooming in the Nikitsky Botanical Garden and the wild (and legally protected) snowbells on the slopes of the nearby Ai-Petri are equally beautiful, although the latter is especially worth seeing for the view of the coast below.  At the Yalta Zoo, I had my first experience of feeding a giraffe by hand (and a zebra, and a monkey, and a pelican). Despite what must be an irregular diet, the animals looked like they were in good shape. Unfortunately, some of them didn’t discern between oranges, sleeves, and fingers.

 And finally, after it becomes too dark to enjoy the scenery and the exotic animals have gone to bed (and especially when you have excellent instructors) there are some excellent opportunities go rollerblading next to the sea.

Easter display in Kharkiv

Kharkiv: Kharkiv is the second largest city in Ukraine, and is well known for its industry (including the production of excellent tanks, in case you are in the market) and universities. Although it was founded in the 17^th Century, not much of historical Kharkiv survived the devastation of World War II. As a result, the city center is mostly modern, with (among other things) pleasant green spaces, a “dolphinarium,” and an expansive square, which is occupied by a Christmas village in the winter, an Easter display in the spring, and so on with the season. Near the campus of the Kharkiv National Aerospace University (which is adorned with small planes), runs a short stretch of railroad managed by children. Even though it’s been explained to me multiple times, I’m not sure I grasp this concept…  

Locks representing people's wishes for a long-lasting relationship,
and in the distance, the monastery of Poltava

Poltava: Poltava lies between Kiev and Kharkiv, and with its smaller size comes a more relaxed atmosphere. In its tree-filled neighborhoods, you can find the home of the creator of modern Ukrainian language, monuments to the Battle of Poltava (the victory of Peter the Great over the Swedes), and even a Paul Bunyan sized bowl and spoon to celebrate a local dish. I was also able to visit the monastery in Poltava, which is perpetually under construction, but many-spired and dignified nonetheless. Because I’m not an Orthodox Christian, it’s hard to know what to look for when entering an Orthodox church, and it became more difficult as I was getting sidelong looks at the hastily tied scarf over my hair and the other to hide my jeans. What I did glean from the experience was the image of a solemn, candlelit service, with an intricate golden altar, and (in this particular service) steady, peaceful singing.

Photo credits are shared with Mariya

A few things that I learned in Ukraine

*How to order a pineapple juice and count to ten in Russian

*How to turn when you’re rollerblading (haven’t quite mastered this one)

*How to tell the difference between a Ukrainian and a Russian-style church (the former has a domed roof that narrows at the bottom, and the latter a half-sphere roof)

*That even the cutest monkeys shouldn’t be trusted

*That Ukrainian lemonade is… unexpected

*That the right Ukrainian taxi driver can tell you anything from local legends to the health benefits of red wine

*To expect fees at any local attraction (whether it is the viewpoint for a waterfall or the greenhouse of orchids at the botanic gardens)

*That it’s best to travel Ukraine with a big appetite           

*That it’s best to wear less on train rides, because air-conditioning is not a priority

*That (at least among younger generations) you’ll be surprised what you have in common -- bizarre YouTube videos, TV shows, bands, books and video games

Spring Break Part 2: Nights and Lights in Paris and Extravagant Versailles

This post is under construction...

Next stop, Ukraine...

Clockwise from top left: The Seine at dusk, Notre Dame, "Only a flesh wound" (Notre Dame),
The Eiffel Tower after dark, the clock in the Musée D'Orsay

Spring Break Part 1: Bondée* in Southern France

Cassis, France

            Friday the 6^th marked the start of my two-week vacation from the Centre International des Etudes Français, and without delay, I jumped on the train for Aix-en-Provence. On the invitation of the fantastic Méline (who lived with my family for part of her US exchange experience), I was to spend three nights camping, and two in her hometown.

The calanques

            Friday evening, we staked our tent in Cassis, a seaside town in the south of France.  Tile roofs and beige, gold, and rose colored houses (not to mention the sea itself), gave the town a very Mediterranean feel. The most memorable part of the area, however, is found just outside the city. There, the sea stretches blue-green fingers into the craggy coastline, in formations called calanques. Despite the rough terrain, you can meet people from age six to age 70 hiking, or alternately, rock climbing up and down these slopes.

            After a Saturday of rambling, it was possible to sleep through almost anything. Not, however, the tent above your head lunging free of its tethers at 3am.  A wind that had been gaining strength since the early evening had peaked at full tent-snatching, car-door-slamming force, and (feeling a little guilty) I took one of the prime sleeping spots in the car. I should say at this point that I owe a lot to my campmates, who would speak in English and slow French for my benefit, created great meals (often featuring Tomme, a formidably strong cheese), and introduced me to the calanques, which I wouldn’t have been nearly ambitious enough to explore on my own.

            Sunday and Monday morning were filled with the sun and the sea as well, and we left Cassis and the calanques in the afternoon, with color on our faces and (for me, at least) stronger legs.

            Tuesday, I got a taste of Annecy, France, a city close to the Swiss and Italian borders. Despite the rain, it was very picturesque. The modern center and oldest parts of the city cluster around Lake Annecy, and foothills curve around the opposite shore. I spent a lovely afternoon walking in the narrow streets not too far from the lakeshore, crisscrossing the canal and goggling at the countless ice cream shops with their rainbows of flavors on display in artful swirls.

           

*packed, crammed-full (such as the state of the car when loaded with all of our camping gear, and us as well)

Next stop, Paris…

Sunshine, Antlers and Vitruvian Men

Dog on the warpath at Chateau Amboise

            While a foot of snow was falling this past week in the Willamette Valley, Oregon, the Loire Valley began to show the first signs of spring. The inhabitants of Angers have been casting off their black and navy outerwear in exchange for bright colors (although they retain an inexplicable penchant for wearing scarves), and the trees have started to bloom. It was in this weather that CIDEF held its final excursion, with stops at the Chateaus Amboise (and the nearby former residence of Leonardo da Vinci), Blois, and Cheverny.

A view of the Loire from Amboise

           Rising high above the town of Amboise, the chateau Amboise has some of the best views of my travels thus far. Peering over one wall, you can join the gargoyles in watching crowds of diners and dog-walkers in the streets below; from another, you can find a panoramic view of the Loire. 

In a corner of the chateau, a chapel celebrates the patron saint of hunters. This seems like a strange idea to me, and only becomes more bizarre upon noticing the antlers growing from the steeple, and a prominent sculpture of a stag sprouting a cross between his ears.

            At Clos de Lucé, the manor where da Vinci lived part of his life, the day continues on its peculiar bent. Something about the manor house and grounds reminds me of an unfinished renaissance Disneyland, with its giant banners (albeit emblazoned with calf-muscle illustrations and the Vitruvian man), strategically placed and overpriced cafés, and numerous da Vinci exhibits (which, if you press a button, will rhapsodize about da Vinci’s notes on rabbit fat). Particularly disturbing is the pigeon loft at one end of the property, brought to life with fake bird noises from a speaker, and flashing red and purple lights from several pigeonholes.

Salle des Etats, Blois

            After a short bus ride, we arrive at chateau Blois, which has four principal sections from four eras in four different architectural styles. Inside, the walls and ceilings are a riot of color and patterns, with detailing that looks suspiciously like gold leaf.  Even the floors are multicolored, with small tiles. Someone must have had an eye for color, though, because the vibrant mess of design that is each room is somehow quite pleasing to the eye.

            At the end of the day, we return to our hunting theme with Cheverny, a chateau famous for its hunting dogs and for being featured in Tintin. The chateau sits amid wide green lawns (which we are forbidden to cross), across which one can hear the baying of the French Tricolor Hounds. Although a large sign near the kennels attests to the care of the dogs, I wouldn’t recommend this visit to animal lovers, or to anyone sensitive to the smell of disinfectant.

            All in all, it was a slightly strange trip, but nothing could really put a damper on a day of warm sunshine and the promise of spring.

Hedgehog, symbol of Louis XII, at Blois

Anjou Troglodytique

A modernized troglodyte dwelling -- complete with sink!

            Until the early 20^th Century, before there was the danger of a tractor crashing through your roof, many subsistence farmers in the Anjou region lived in caves. Today’s excursion started off with a tour of one of these underground (troglodyte) villages, where everyone, including the cows, had a subterranean living space.

            Although you might find something green (or heaven forbid, furry and grey) growing on your walls, living in caves was quite practical. You would carve your home (or church or stable) into the soft rock, and then use the excess to construct chateaus and other structures aboveground, or in the fields as an agent to counteract the acidity of the soil. If (to borrow an example from our guide) you had a child on the way and needed to expand your home, you would simply pull out your pickax and hack away at a wall. The thick rock acts as an excellent insulator, keeping you and your perishables cool in the summer and warm in the winter, and is a free and plentiful building material. In the particular village I visited, people had been quarrying the rock since the 1200s (although I’m not sure if they lived there at that point), and had constructed an underground chapel during the religious wars of the 16^th Century.

            After the troglodyte village and a wine tasting came the much-rumored underground restaurant. In a room where some of us had to duck not to hit our heads on the damp tuffeau, we ate a four-course dinner of buttery bliss.  Pork and mushrooms were a distinct theme, and the main course was fouace, a pita-like bread that you slit open and fill with some combination of butter, beans, pork, and mushrooms. After apple pie for dessert and the traditional coffee, I was ready to sleep my way home as the bus took us back along the banks of the river Loire.

"Snapshots" of Paris

I was that person who forgot to check their camera batteries before spending a weekend in Paris, so I will format this post a bit differently…

Some “Snapshots” of People in Paris

--Tourists and policemen on roller skates

--A homeless man watching passersby from a mountain of blankets and sleeping bags

--A group of singers enthusiastically chanting “Hare Krishna’s” in front of Notre Dame

--A three-piece band, two accordionists and (possibly) a zither player, jumping onto metro cars on Sunday to play for change

--A human statue dressed as a sarcophagus in front of the obelisk in Place de la Concorde (there was a panda as well, but it looked as if his choice of theme wasn’t making him much money…)

--The rich and famous, dressed in striped fur coats and neons, exiting an event for Paris Fashion Week

--A band of stilt-porting folk dancers performing under the Eiffel Tower

And my lesser-known highlight of Paris:

Shakespeare and Company (http://www.shakespeareandcompany.com/index.php), a bookstore just across the Seine from Notre Dame de Paris. Jammed full of fiction and non fiction from the old to the contemporary, my favorite part of this bookstore was the upstairs, where former proprietor (and poet) George Whitman used to house penniless writers in exchange for help around the shop. One nook houses a piano, free for the playing, and another a typewriter and a myriad of books suited to the aspiring author. Out the window, some creative soul has constructed a dramatic scene on the roof with plastic dinosaurs.