The Wild East

"Mark was doubled over with his head wedged on our table"

Uzhgorod, Ukraine.
We got of the bus around 7pm, it was still light but would soon be dark. We still had accommodation to find. Uzhgorod is only 4km from the Slovak border and I though this would ensure a fair number of slovak tourists, but the town looked shabby and poor even by Ukrainian standards. (It’s 4km from the EU now!!).
Recent heavy showers ensured the roads were a mixture of tarmac, gravel and mud-filled potholes.

We tried a few places which were all quite expensive including the Zakarpattya, which would feature the next evening. Around 8.30pm we found ourselves on an unlit road in the middle of nowhere. According to the guidebook (and a local) our intended hotel would be along here. We stumbled along in the pitch darkness up a road leading into the hills and, like magic, the Hotel Svitanok appeared out of the blackness (the lonely planet guidebook had just saved its life. Through most of our Ukrainian journey it had been an expensive fly-swatter). The Svitanok was cheap – about $5 each ($1.50 for ukrainians) even with en-suite bathroom and a TV.
It was a typical ex-Soviet hotel - probably built in the 1970s and it retained its original décor. It was a huge place with about 200+ rooms, maybe about 10% full, 300% overstaffed, and probably hugely loss-making.

We were starving after an all day bus journey, our rations had been one bar of chocolate and a few shots of vodka. We headed back down the unlit road into the town centre, the place was deserted. We couldn’t find a single bar or restaurant and nowhere was open. It was Saturday night.
Luckily a shop selling bread and ham was open, so that was our dinner. Thank God the bright lights and prosperity of Slovakia were only 3 miles away and Hungary 8miles away!
Sunday
Uzghorod redeems himself.

The town had a few interesting streets, squares and a very impressive castle. For the 100th time though I thought that Uzghorod’s (Ukraine’s) glory days (if there were any) were in about 1980 in the USSR. But then came along democracy, ‘freedom’ and independence. The Soviet Union vanished and so did the tourists along with the economy, most peoples savings and jobs.

That evening we ate in an anonymous restaurant. The decor looked like it had been looted from a local church, particularly the seating which were high backed wooden pues.
Taylor satisfied at last with a hearty meal stretched and burped, pushing the pue slightly back.
The occupant on the other side rammed it back again. Taylor followed suit, with even more force.
Despite my pleas for restraint from Mark, this continued until it became apparant there were at least two occupants pushing Mark's pue. The result: Mark was doubled over with his head wedged on our table by the weight of the pue.

One of the occupants (who had a skinhead and who wore a ubiquitous white T-shirt came over to our table and shouted something in Russian at us. We looked blank. He looked at Taylor’s shorts and grinned. I don't think we were quite the opposition he was expecting.
He then established we were English and the atmosphere suddenly became friendly. Two girls appeared and another skinhead.
We appeared to have acquired some friends.
The girls wasted no time in sitting down and ordering themselves more drinks (which were to be put on our bill).

We ‘talked’ for about half an hour. Only Marianne (one of the girls) spoke any English and was continually translating. One skinhead appeared to go by the name of “Fish”.
They wanted to take us to a nightclub.
We were still dressed in shorts and T-shirts and wanted to get changed.

We wanted to get rid of all cameras, wallets and passports too! But they weren’t taking no for an answer.
Eventually we agreed a compromise – they would come back to the hotel with us. Both the men (aged 19 and 22 respectively) were quite drunk and it took us quite a while to get back to the Svitanok.

They seemed very friendly, but somehow I sensed we were in for trouble…

Back to Main Page