Back in the (former) USSR

Arriving in Kiev, it felt like I was back in Russia: The signs were again in Cyrillic; passerbys did not smile at one another; the women were all wearing high heels and the hammer-and-sickle was plastered everywhere. Still, I was told that if I were to mention to a Ukrainian how similar I found their country to Russia, it would be severely offensive. I never did, though I did fish for Ukrainian's opinions about Russia over a couple of beers and my ears were blistered by vehement anti-Russian sentiments.

I arrived at my hostel after navigating the metro system and, while sipping the customary free beer at check-in, was told that I had the opportunity to head out to an old Soviet army bunker. The bunker is now owned by a Ukrainian gun club and there are a variety of experiences available to anyone with a couple of extra bucks and a club member as a contact. The Norwegian hostel owner, a former NATO soldier, regularly takes backpackers out to the range, and I decided I would make the trip. While driving an armored vehicle or firing a grenade-launcher were both a little out of my price range, I was able to justify firing an AK-47. I have had past opportunities - in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Mongolia - to go nuts with an automatic weapon, and my resolve finally broke in Ukraine. There was a herd of goats that I was told I could have my pick of for target practice for the right price, though I politely refused and instead opted for a bloodless paper target. With the clip full of thirty rounds, I aimed down the indoor range at the target approximately 25 metres away. At first squeezing off one round at a time, I finished off the clip with two long bursts, quickly perforating the target despite my rather erratic shooting. There was surprisingly little recoil, or so I thought immediately after while still full of adrenalin, but I still have a slight bruise on my upper chest where I held the butt of the rifle.

The rest of my time in Kiev was a little less exciting as I made my way around the city by foot and with the use of the metro, just sightseeing and enjoyig the city. What I most enjoyed was Pecherska Lavra, an underground monastery that has been in use since 1015. The catacombs have now become crypts, housing the bodies of mummified saints, and I wasn't sure what to expect as I stooped to make my way into the white-washed tunnels. I felt like an interloper as devout Ukrainian Orthodox slowly filed past me, bending over each of the glass coffins as they crossed themselves and kissed the glass. None of the mummies' faces were exposed, but I did see one shriveled skeletal hand which made me glad of the cloth covering their faces. Grimacing saints staring up at me through their transparent coffins might have been a little too much.

While the original plan - as much as I could call it a plan - had been to head down to Sevastapol and from there catch a ferry across the Black Sea to Istanbul, I found out that there was just one problem: The ferry only runs once a week. This would have meant I would have arrived in Istanbul just in time to fly to London, so I opted to fly to Istanbul from Kiev instead. I arrived in Istanbul this morning, and in three days I take my second-last step back to Canada, flying into London from where on July 6th I will be heading home.