It's been almost two years since I updated this blog. On our way out of Kiev we went several rounds with our Taxi driver as he threatened to drive off with our bags if we didn't pay double the fare. I like to think he'd have honored the fare our friend had arranged if he hadn't been pulled over by the police. As escapes from far way places go, it was bourgeois. I posted the last batch of photos and reconciled it all to memory.
But our trip to Ukraine has been on my mind since news of the Domodedovo airport bombing broke. You can see the footage authorities released at that link. Shadow women and men wheeling luggage. The second time the loops shows them, you watch and wish they'd walk slower. And everything explodes again.
When I saw the footage on a hotel TV I thought back to the airport security officer in Lviv, almost embarrassedly digging through Axel's thomas the tank engine suit case.
Safe travels; heart goes out to everyone impacted.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Lviv High Castle
We walked from our apartment to Lviv's High Castle yesterday, about 45 minutes or so through relatively warm temperatures. We were bitter over having brought our coats by the time we got to the bottom of 'Curved Nose' street, just the other side of down town. While I was sure that Amy knew, I did bring up that the castle is now what most of us would call a piece of wall. Best to set expectations before you get too far along.
I couldn't imagine at first why there were so many Volvos and Audis speeding past us up and then back down the hill. Turns out the stair up the last stretch of hill starts more or less at the parking lot of Lviv's television station. In addition to Europe's largest free-standing lattice work antennae, the television station is notable for a statue of a saint that's just opposite an onsite café.
The castle wall is impressive, but I don't think Amy even hesitated as we walked past. In fact she asked Axel who would win the race to the top, her carrying him or me stopping to take photos.
The destination was mostly about the view though. We could see all the way back to our apartment. This is the second time we've done this. Using cathedrals as reference points, it's pretty easy to make out St. Yura's and then the nearby Dnister Hotel with the dark patch of Ivan Franko Park in front of it. The clouds massing should have been some kind of sign, by the time we got back down to town it had cooled considerably and the wind had picked up. It's been snowing ever since.
I couldn't imagine at first why there were so many Volvos and Audis speeding past us up and then back down the hill. Turns out the stair up the last stretch of hill starts more or less at the parking lot of Lviv's television station. In addition to Europe's largest free-standing lattice work antennae, the television station is notable for a statue of a saint that's just opposite an onsite café.
The castle wall is impressive, but I don't think Amy even hesitated as we walked past. In fact she asked Axel who would win the race to the top, her carrying him or me stopping to take photos.
The destination was mostly about the view though. We could see all the way back to our apartment. This is the second time we've done this. Using cathedrals as reference points, it's pretty easy to make out St. Yura's and then the nearby Dnister Hotel with the dark patch of Ivan Franko Park in front of it. The clouds massing should have been some kind of sign, by the time we got back down to town it had cooled considerably and the wind had picked up. It's been snowing ever since.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Lviv Museum of Ethnography and Crafts
Two days ago we visited the Lviv Museum of Ethnography and Crafts. There was only one room of the hand tools and huts I expected, and the rest of the collection was either modern or a more straightforward reflection of Lviv's cultural history. A collection of Habsburg clocks, watches, and pocket-sized sun dials for instance.
The building itself turned out to be the highlight of the trip. A grand stair case flanked by a pair of lion bannisters led up to decked out hall on the second floor. The lions had breastplates. Not the first time I've seen lions with breasts here, I've also seen lions with curiously phallic faces serving as skirts for male statues. Amy and Axel sat in a window seat under one of a dozen stained-glass windows, taking in grandeur that you just don't find in a country that's been a democracy from the get go.
The handtools and huts didn't disappoint. They had the long and pointy quality that I associate with broken bones, accusations of witchcraft, and devil's horns. Also the sort of visual spareness that I equate with sensible design.
There was a surcharge for photographs here as well (5 Hryvnia). In the first room we visited a docent told us to keep it handy for the inevitable requests to see it. Turns out no one asked. But each of the subsequent rooms we visited had at least two docents. They would pass from room to room, gallery to gallery, through a series of doors that were off limits to visitors. As with the Railway Museum we were asked to fill in the guest book. I get the sense that everyone is, not just folks from far away — most people seem to think Amy is from Poland.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Pharmacy Museum
Today we headed down to The Pharmacy Museum at 2 Pechatnykiv St. We'd walked past a couple of days before and it had an appealingly dark vibe about it even from the street. In a move that most novelists wouldn't even think about trying to get away with, there were three women stationed behind the counter of the pharmacy - a functioning apothecary since the 1700's.
Amy was purchasing our admission when we were told that there was a 3 hryvnia surcharge for taking photos. We were not deterred... along with the entry fee of 5 hryvnia for adults, the excursion cost a bit more than $1.50. If you go, be sure to follow the green arrows all the way out through the courtyard and into the cellar. Creepy.
In the courtyard breezeway were these paintings of the apothecary store front along with busts of famous medicinal folks, like Hippocratese.
The museum did not disappoint on the cool containers front. There were specimens from all periods of Lviv history, even some from China.
Might have been worth using a flash here. Blurred it up like an amateur despite two attempts.
There were descriptive placards in multiple languages including English, fortunately for Axel none of them said "Don't Touch."
Since perusing the ingredients of a Carter Beats the Devil on the drinks menu at Flora, I've had tinctures on the brain. A number of tinctures here.
Amy was purchasing our admission when we were told that there was a 3 hryvnia surcharge for taking photos. We were not deterred... along with the entry fee of 5 hryvnia for adults, the excursion cost a bit more than $1.50. If you go, be sure to follow the green arrows all the way out through the courtyard and into the cellar. Creepy.
In the courtyard breezeway were these paintings of the apothecary store front along with busts of famous medicinal folks, like Hippocratese.
The museum did not disappoint on the cool containers front. There were specimens from all periods of Lviv history, even some from China.
Might have been worth using a flash here. Blurred it up like an amateur despite two attempts.
There were descriptive placards in multiple languages including English, fortunately for Axel none of them said "Don't Touch."
Since perusing the ingredients of a Carter Beats the Devil on the drinks menu at Flora, I've had tinctures on the brain. A number of tinctures here.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
There's always one: Traveling to Lviv With Small Children
On travel websites, in letters to the travel section of NYT, or on the Berkeley Parents Network mailing list someone always writes to ask if anyone has experience traveling to this or that locale with small children. The locales range from the sort of places that I would disparage someone for worrying about bringing a child to, to borderline war zones. Responses range from encouraging common sense to full-fledged outrage.
We contend with these issues in the relative privacy of our dining room. We quickly ruled out a trip to the Socotra Islands because of the practicalities of getting in and out of Yemen with a two-year old - to say nothing of the prohibition against alcohol. So at various points in the planning stages, this trip was going to be a first-time visit to Easter Island and then a return visit to the Galapagos, all of which seemed doable based on our last trip there. More recently we though we were heading to Japan. We had some concerns about finding family-friend hot springs, but they do exist.
As we started our research about Lviv I came across this quote on TripAdvisor:
Some things to keep in mind if you are thinking about traveling to Lviv with a small child, particularly in winter. Babushkas will absolutely voice opinions about your child's exposed ankles, or how he really should be wearing his hat. Axel has little time for hats and less for gloves, and we tend to be tolerant parents. Our attitude toward the weather is that of a tourist, not someone who has to live with it. Imagine our surprise when we got home one day and Axel stumbled about because his legs were numb. We left on the window seat over our radiator and he stayed there very happily for 15 minutes.
Babushkas will be hands on with your child to remedy situations. One day in Strysky Market Axel was at his wit's end, sobbing heavily in his stroller. A round and bundled old woman leaned in to comfort him and he howled louder even as she gave him the cookie below.
This is a smoking city. Cigarette butts accumulate in snow and ice around children's playgrounds. Non-smoking areas in most restaurants we've been to tend to be small - usually two tables near the cash register. It's predictably disconcerting to be taking off your child's clothes when they smell like you do after a night out on the drink. We don't see many children on the streets or in shops. Some shopkeepers seem to be judging Amy harshly for having Axel out and about at the hours we do (never later than 7), even having him in stores at all. They are probably judging me too, but by not understanding the language I'm spared the freight of grief.
For all that, our two-year old loves Lviv. We entered a noisy and thick with smoke middle eastern restaurant the other night and Axel howled when we left for want of a table. The other day a tractor followed us for a solid two blocks up a busy sidewalk, Axel asking what happened all the while. He loves the truck play structure in Strysky Park, the playroom in Puzata Hata, the teenagers ice skating in the old part of town.
We contend with these issues in the relative privacy of our dining room. We quickly ruled out a trip to the Socotra Islands because of the practicalities of getting in and out of Yemen with a two-year old - to say nothing of the prohibition against alcohol. So at various points in the planning stages, this trip was going to be a first-time visit to Easter Island and then a return visit to the Galapagos, all of which seemed doable based on our last trip there. More recently we though we were heading to Japan. We had some concerns about finding family-friend hot springs, but they do exist.
As we started our research about Lviv I came across this quote on TripAdvisor:
There is so much to see in Lviv, but I am afraid February/March is not the best season to visit it, if not the worst! If you are ready to brave heavy winds, snow and slash[sic], and ungritted streets with ice - welcome to the City of LionsIt can't be said that we didn't know what we were getting into. We packed the huge coat that my dad gave Axel for Christmas two years ago, we packed three sweaters for him, and we packed leggings for under his jeans and made a go of it.
Some things to keep in mind if you are thinking about traveling to Lviv with a small child, particularly in winter. Babushkas will absolutely voice opinions about your child's exposed ankles, or how he really should be wearing his hat. Axel has little time for hats and less for gloves, and we tend to be tolerant parents. Our attitude toward the weather is that of a tourist, not someone who has to live with it. Imagine our surprise when we got home one day and Axel stumbled about because his legs were numb. We left on the window seat over our radiator and he stayed there very happily for 15 minutes.
Babushkas will be hands on with your child to remedy situations. One day in Strysky Market Axel was at his wit's end, sobbing heavily in his stroller. A round and bundled old woman leaned in to comfort him and he howled louder even as she gave him the cookie below.
This is a smoking city. Cigarette butts accumulate in snow and ice around children's playgrounds. Non-smoking areas in most restaurants we've been to tend to be small - usually two tables near the cash register. It's predictably disconcerting to be taking off your child's clothes when they smell like you do after a night out on the drink. We don't see many children on the streets or in shops. Some shopkeepers seem to be judging Amy harshly for having Axel out and about at the hours we do (never later than 7), even having him in stores at all. They are probably judging me too, but by not understanding the language I'm spared the freight of grief.
For all that, our two-year old loves Lviv. We entered a noisy and thick with smoke middle eastern restaurant the other night and Axel howled when we left for want of a table. The other day a tractor followed us for a solid two blocks up a busy sidewalk, Axel asking what happened all the while. He loves the truck play structure in Strysky Park, the playroom in Puzata Hata, the teenagers ice skating in the old part of town.
Lviv's Railway Museum
This was our second trip to Lviv's Railway Museum, we caught the #2 bus without a hitch and were there within minutes. The building that houses the museum is big. We walked through the same frosted glass doors we'd gone through the day before, when the museum was closed for a national holiday, and saw an enormously wide set of doors open on to a darkened institutional hall way.
So it was with some surprise that the woman behind the counter walked us back out of the building and around to a side door for the museum itself - a room so small that Amy and I exchanged a glance and a smirk before a docent walked out to meet us. His name was Roman, and he talked to Amy for a solid half hour while Axel and I tried to keep ourselves occupied with the two larger model trains available for viewing.
Their conversation was more about the history of the occupation of Lviv by various parties than about the railway itself. Throughout the museum there were a handful of stone badges that labelled the railroad by ruling interest. These were very cool looking, and had hand-carved geometric patterns on the back. They were also devilishly difficult to get good photos of because of the light in the room and because they were hung from bright burnished poles by shiny lengths of chain.
Eventually it came out that in addition to be the museum docent, Roman was also the artist who'd painted the dozen or so portraits of leaders of the railway on display, carved a marble bust of the most recent head of the railway that would be used to derive a form for a bronze sculpture, and also painted the large mural of Lviv near the entrance.
Based on this description it may be difficult for you to know whether or not a visit to the Railway Museum is worth the trip. The museum is free. The model of the electric train is very cool and held Axel's interest for a good 10 minutes - Roman told Amy that it was used as an instructional tool for student engineers. There's also a model steam train that for some reason Axel was less interested in - quite possibly because it did not have a face. The museum also does a great job of conveying just how frequently Lviv has changed hands over the last few hundred years. Ultimately, if you're not a train person, then the primary reason you'd be interested in visiting is that your child or loved one is. And for train people, it's always worth it.
Nearly forgot, Roman encouraged me to take this photo of these wrenches.
So it was with some surprise that the woman behind the counter walked us back out of the building and around to a side door for the museum itself - a room so small that Amy and I exchanged a glance and a smirk before a docent walked out to meet us. His name was Roman, and he talked to Amy for a solid half hour while Axel and I tried to keep ourselves occupied with the two larger model trains available for viewing.
Their conversation was more about the history of the occupation of Lviv by various parties than about the railway itself. Throughout the museum there were a handful of stone badges that labelled the railroad by ruling interest. These were very cool looking, and had hand-carved geometric patterns on the back. They were also devilishly difficult to get good photos of because of the light in the room and because they were hung from bright burnished poles by shiny lengths of chain.
Eventually it came out that in addition to be the museum docent, Roman was also the artist who'd painted the dozen or so portraits of leaders of the railway on display, carved a marble bust of the most recent head of the railway that would be used to derive a form for a bronze sculpture, and also painted the large mural of Lviv near the entrance.
Based on this description it may be difficult for you to know whether or not a visit to the Railway Museum is worth the trip. The museum is free. The model of the electric train is very cool and held Axel's interest for a good 10 minutes - Roman told Amy that it was used as an instructional tool for student engineers. There's also a model steam train that for some reason Axel was less interested in - quite possibly because it did not have a face. The museum also does a great job of conveying just how frequently Lviv has changed hands over the last few hundred years. Ultimately, if you're not a train person, then the primary reason you'd be interested in visiting is that your child or loved one is. And for train people, it's always worth it.
Nearly forgot, Roman encouraged me to take this photo of these wrenches.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Cathedrals and Crows
Until today we'd always headed straight or turned left when leaving the apartment. So everything was new to me when we turned right and made our way to a bus stop. Snow was still thick on the ground, we tromped through banks of it to get across the street. And then happened on a cathedral less than a quarter of a mile from our digs. In the course of our 30 minute walk we passed another massive cathedral, a soviet monument that was under repair, and a busy market.
The thirty minute walk through snow and slush was required because none of the buses that we wanted to take stopped for us. Eventually Amy put together that these were on a Sunday schedule owing to a holiday. We found them all eventually, one stop up and in a queue. I haven't been able to determine if there's a color scheme for these buses that correlates to route numbers. I also haven't figured out why many buses and trolleys that have a route number like 1, 2, or 9 will also have a three digit series of numbers in their side windows.
In the afternoon we ventured out to the old central market area. We got there just as the crows were starting to do their thing. We'd seen this the day before and no one had commented on it. Even more crows than you see in this photo, Hitchcock levels of crow really, and no one looked up but us. Amy observed that the weird thing about was that they were crows and not some more common flocking bird. Our friend Brad over at Wild Boar Farms said he'd seen a National Geographic segment on the same phenomenon in Yuba City, CA.
The old part of town really is lovely. An elegant mix of run down and renovated, graffiti and gargoyles, shops and cafes. I say this not because it's surprising but because as an American you almost never hear about this city.
We stopped at a bank on the way home to pull out as many hryvnia as we could to pay for Amy's language tutoring. When possible we've tried to pay for our larger planned expenses in hryvnia. At the same time, the folks renting us the apartment and coordinating Amy's tutoring have a strong lean toward dollars. Still, we've exceeded our maximum withdrawal amount from the bank nearest our apartment. Not sure if the restriction has something to do with the current economic climate or is more general.
The thirty minute walk through snow and slush was required because none of the buses that we wanted to take stopped for us. Eventually Amy put together that these were on a Sunday schedule owing to a holiday. We found them all eventually, one stop up and in a queue. I haven't been able to determine if there's a color scheme for these buses that correlates to route numbers. I also haven't figured out why many buses and trolleys that have a route number like 1, 2, or 9 will also have a three digit series of numbers in their side windows.
In the afternoon we ventured out to the old central market area. We got there just as the crows were starting to do their thing. We'd seen this the day before and no one had commented on it. Even more crows than you see in this photo, Hitchcock levels of crow really, and no one looked up but us. Amy observed that the weird thing about was that they were crows and not some more common flocking bird. Our friend Brad over at Wild Boar Farms said he'd seen a National Geographic segment on the same phenomenon in Yuba City, CA.
The old part of town really is lovely. An elegant mix of run down and renovated, graffiti and gargoyles, shops and cafes. I say this not because it's surprising but because as an American you almost never hear about this city.
We stopped at a bank on the way home to pull out as many hryvnia as we could to pay for Amy's language tutoring. When possible we've tried to pay for our larger planned expenses in hryvnia. At the same time, the folks renting us the apartment and coordinating Amy's tutoring have a strong lean toward dollars. Still, we've exceeded our maximum withdrawal amount from the bank nearest our apartment. Not sure if the restriction has something to do with the current economic climate or is more general.
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