Sun 26 Jul – Cluj Napoca (Romania)
I headed for La Soviet – a fabulously camp, retro bar – feeling adventurous and off the tourist trail. The Brummie family at the next table soon burst that bubble. I had my best ever curry in central Europe and a vegan ice cream on my way home. I finished the day feeling totally on…
Mon 27 Jul, Leaving Romania
The train to Sighetu stopped everywhere. One platform burst into argument – the train guard versus a large group of Roma women (Europe’s most hated minority). I knew I’d never find out what it was about, so I exchanged smiles with the children. Half an hour later they drifted away and the train plodded on…
Tue 28 Jul, Entering Ukraine
The Schengen computer didn’t have my fingerprints, so it took a whole 20 minutes to leave Romania. I strolled over the sleepy bridge. Only five minutes to enter Ukraine. The customs woman was sweet. After she’d checked my luggage she called me back and wrote in Google translate “It’s very nice here.” I struggled to…
Wed 29 Jul, Hoverla
Hoverla is Ukraine’s highest mountain (2061m; 3km, +770m, 2-3 hours up). I had a coffee near the station and failed to observe how I might share a taxi. The first driver I asked spoke way beyond my speed limit. I explained, “Ya ne ponimayu” (I don’t understand.) “Rozumiyu! Rozumiyu!” he shouted back. The penny dropped.…
Thu 30 Jul, Vorokhta
Dima replied. They made it down safely but not till 11. It was 2 by the time they got back to Vorokhta. He didn’t mention any trouble for breaking the curfew. The massage (plus lots of stretching) had done the trick. My legs felt fine. But I had a lazy day anyway. I spotted a…
Fri 31 Jul, Pip Ivan
Amazingly, we all got up in time for the lift. They had to show permits for the border zone, plus a (friendly) interrogation. The guard just noted my name from my passport. More western privilege. The mountain churches all have shiny, metallic roofs, usually gold or blue, with matching gazebos. I imagined one on my…
Sat 1 Aug, Kolomiya
Slow start after the hike. I could’ve happily spent all day on the veranda, drinking coffee and counting distant peaks. The manager arranged an expensive 4×4 to take me the two miles down the mountain [note to self: always ask Claude for a price guide] and a car to get me to the nearest town.…
Sun 2 Aug, On the Road Again
I had a couple of hours between buses in Chernivtsi (pop 260 000). It boasts an ornate, World Heritage university campus, which I had to run round and grab a few snaps. My best bet for lunch was Rita Steinberg, an upmarket Jewish restaurant just down the street. I ordered coffee and beer in Ukrainian,…
Mon 3 Aug, Kamyanets Podilsky
I moved into a less extravagant ‘apartment’ (hotel room with a microwave and tiny fridge) also in the premium old town – the walk from the bus station, through the new town, hadn’t looked promising. But Ukrainian town planners allow streets of bars, cafes and shops to spring up anywhere and after a quick wander…
Tue 4 Aug, Leaving Ukraine
I usually walk straight past tourist markets, but on my last morning, I spotted a rack of sauna caps and went to investigate. Gold! One of them had my favourite Cyrillic word – шапка (shapka, meaning hat). Yeah, it’s probably a boy thing. Fortunately the same in Ukrainian and Russian, it turns out, шапка невидимка…
Wed 5 Aug, Chisinau
I was soon woken, but by border guards, not explosions. Mercifully, no bag check. I next woke just outside Chisinau, in time to wish my poputniks (fellow travellers) bon voyage in Deutschland. 15 years ago, Chisinau had struck me as a rather sad soviet leftover, with little new building and not much of a plan.…
Thu 6 Aug, Brașov
Approaching Brașov, the coach erupted in a flashmob choir of phone alerts: extreme rain. The road dipped under a railway bridge; the Chelsea tractor drivers were wallowing in it like hippos in a waterhole. Booking.com threw up a surprise. Honestly, the cheapest (an eye watering £80 after Ukraine) room in the old town with a…
Fri 7 Aug, Brașov
I hiked up the ‘mountain’ to the Hollywoodesque Brașov sign (3km, +350m, 90 mins). Everyone was shod in walking shoes/boots, some even with poles. A couple of rocks spilt across the path, with overkill chains to hold onto – not the sheer cliff that springs to mind if I claim a mountain with via ferrata.…
Sat 8 Aug, Budapest
My cabin mates on the sleeper train to Budapest were four mid 20s interrailing Danes. They were curious about Ukraine, but said their mums wouldn’t have let them. They thought there was no bar on the train but one of them expressed an interest, maybe in sympathy, so I set out on a beer hunt.…
Nigel Tart 