We sailed into Kiev at around 10 am with a hazy sun in the sky and a marvellous view from the river of the domes of the Caves Monastery and the huge stainless steel ‘Nation’s Mother’ statue that Brezhnev had built to try to overshadow them - you can go up it in a lift apparently, which I would quite like to have done.
We docked in precisely the same place as we’d started from and even the little old lady who tries to sell tourists her lacework was back in her same riverside spot by the time we’d tied up. Almost immediately, coaches started to arrive ready to take us on the various excursions planned for our last morning. I’d opted to go and see what is probably the most famous Cathedral in Kiev, St Sophia.
Ironically it’s the only one that isn’t operational any more and now exists only as a museum. It’s not the most stunning from the outside either, the style is baroque, the colours green and white, but what gives it international fame is what lies in wait inside. Before we got to see the inside however, we were back in Neela’s charge at last, who decided to make the most of this last full excursion.
She must have given us three talks on various aspects of the Cathedral and the site on the way from the coach to the Cathedral entrance. She was obviously building up the suspense. Even when we finally got through the entrance she stopped us again in a sort of ante-room, where there was a very nice scale model of the cathedral which she explained to us in great detail – but I just wanted to see the real thing.
It was built by Grand Prince Yaroslav in 1037 and modelled on the Hagia Sophia in what was then Constantinople (the external Baroque characteristics were obviously added later). Yaroslav’s sarcophagus is here, but it is most famous for the Byzantine mosaics that adorn the walls – some of them are still being uncovered and restored today after previous generations saw fit to paint or even plaster over them.
There is also a very impressive and visually stunning screen – the equivalent of an altar, around which services would have centred. Above this is the interior of the Cathedral’s biggest dome which is decorated with an image of God who certainly seems to look down on you in a humbling yet reassuring way, and after a while gives you a stiff neck.
This is one of those places I could have stayed in for a while, not least to find out where to buy a camera permit. I was unable to get any pictures as there were stern looking women dotted about making sure that no-one got any sneaky photos without paying for the privilege.Above and below are some that I’ve stolen from another website (with permission of course, thanks to Galen Frysinger).
After this experience we went to see, by way of contrast, one of the churches still very much in use in the middle of the city. This was a much less decorative affair, though it was still nice enough inside, but I have to say it didn’t inspire me a great deal after St Sophia. It was interesting to see a standard, working church and the people coming and going, crossing themselves copiously as they did so, but it was definitely an anti-climax. Then it was time for our final Ukrainian lunch.
I’d had mixed feelings about the local food, but usually it was the starters that caused the most controversy. Apparently there was a dedicated starter chef who must have been rather despondent to see large quantities of his preparations returning half (or less) eaten. He’d saved his best for last though, and we had a marvellous hot mushroom based dish which was delicious. I only wish I could remember what it was called.
The last afternoon was upon us and a lot of people had decided either to stay on the boat and do their packing or to go for some last minute souvenir shopping in the city centre. A few of us however had signed up for an optional trip to a heritage park which was about 45 minutes drive out of Kiev in the middle of the countryside. The park is a large one, consisting of six small villages, each one representing a different region of the Ukraine.
Most of the buildings have been constructed in styles ranging from the 16th to 18th centuries, though some are original buildings brought here and re-constructed. The domestic buildings are all laid out with original furniture, clothing and tools from the appropriate period and are maintained quite meticulously by the staff. There are other buildings too – I saw a schoolhouse, various farm buildings and a small wooden church – which are equally well appointed and maintained.
Apparently it’s a popular destination for local families who go there for pleasant walks, then choose their favourite village to have a picnic in. There are gas powered barbeques at strategic points for general use, so if you want a hot picnic you can do that too.
There were only six of us on this trip, but we were still accompanied by Neela whose knowledge of the old houses and culture was very impressive. We went inside some of the buildings and the fact that she knew the names of some of the tools and implements at all, let alone in English, quite amazed me.
All through the trip I’d never really had a chance to talk to her beyond asking the occasional question. She’d been very professional (apart from the odd timing mistake) but had maintained a rather cool and distant air about her, though not unfriendly. Someone had commented that she’d probably been a good party member during the communist era.
Now I had the chance to chat as we walked along the lane from one village to the next and see if she would melt a little. It started well as she expressed pleasure at being off the ship (‘all that metal’) and in the countryside. It was near the end of the season and she was obviously a little tired of the journey that we’d just enjoyed and looking forward to being at home again. I asked her if she had a job for the winter but she just shrugged, non-committal, and then started talking about some of the jobs she’d had in the past.
My favourite was when she’d been employed as an interpreter for some Western scientists who’d come to the Ukraine to help decommission a nuclear reactor (I resisted making any comments about Chernobyl). She must have had to delve deeply into her technical English for that – and I’d been impressed that she knew the words for a few old household implements!
I didn’t manage to get beyond this level of her personal situation apart from deducing that she had an apartment in the old part of Kiev rather than in one of the tower blocks on the other side of the river. She managed to keep fending off questions by feeding us more information about her city and country rather than herself, as though her life was of no consequence within the broader picture. This may have been due to the years of Communist suppression of individual importance, or perhaps habitual secrecy when dealing with foreigners, or maybe it was just her natural character. I’d have needed a lot longer than an afternoon in a Kiev park to get to the bottom of her reticence.
Nevertheless it was a pleasant afternoon wandering through the heritage of the Ukraine even if some of the cottages did look a little too perfect to be true. Mind you, I suspect that living in one in the middle of winter would probably take the rural shine off a little. Before I knew it, it was time to walk back to the coach, the sightseeing was over.
Reality began to kick back in as I was packing my case and deciding what I actually had to leave until the morning. The morning was not a nice prospect; we had to be at the airport by seven, which meant leaving the boat at six, which meant getting up at five. It was going to be a very long day by the time we got home and added the two hours time difference back on – a 26 hour one in fact.
As our plane took off that next morning, we didn’t realise that we were saying goodbye to a country that in only a few weeks time would be going through some of the most momentous months in its history. The presidential election was due to be held and the stand off between the pro-Russian Yanukovich and the pro-Western Yuschenko would begin as the results of the election were disputed. Thousands of Kiev people would spend weeks on the streets in freezing weather until justice was seen to be done.
We now know the outcome of course and I was extremely relieved that there was no violence from either side – another quiet revolution seems to have taken place in Eastern Europe. I’d definitely like to return to the country in particular for a more in-depth look at Kiev. I hope that if I do I find that traditional Ukrainian history and culture is as robust against the influences of Capitalism as it was against those of Communism.
Kiev | Zaporizhia | Odessa | Sevastopol | Yalta | The Dnepr | Return to Kiev
