Stinky Socks? Who needs them?

I'll keep this short, as I'm blogging on my Dad's computer instead of my own, but I thought someone might be interested in how things are going with me.

Where was I?

Right, I left you all with my plan: check out of my beautiful hotel, go to the hostel, drop off my luggage, go to the airport and figure out what to do next. I texted Dad before I headed to the airport and he said that Tanya was convinced I was getting on a flight that day. He wasn't so sure. Neither was I, but I decided to take my luggage with my anyway and skip going to the hostel. I got to the airport at around 1:15, waited in line for 5 minutes and then 5 minutes after that I had a ticket to Geneva and on to Kiev!! Thank goodness I've learned to listen to Tanya and not my Dad.

What a lucky day!! Even better, the lady let me check BOTH of my pieces of luggage so that I wouldn't have to haul my one bag around the Geneva airport before my second flight. Score! Goodbye stinky socks. I'll see you in Kiev.

Side note: fate's a real jerk, you know?

We left London an hour late, so when I arrived in Geneva people were already lining up for my flight to Kiev. The lineup included a horrible little girl that almost got punched in the face by me and several other travelers, but who was hugged and kissed and poorly parented by her mother.

Flight to Kiev was fairly uneventful. Except that since I barely made it from one plane to the other, my luggage certainly didn't have the time it needed, either. Stinky socks? I'll see you in a week!

Helpful tip from my Dad the day after it was useful: "When you come to the Ukraine, pack like you're never going to see your luggage again. Because you likely won't."


No sleep and no luggage make Lyn something something.
Kyiv Train Station

There were maybe 8 or 10 people on my flight who also hadn't gotten their luggage, so I found one that spoke English and got her to help me fill out my paperwork and the like. Something you should know about the Ukraine: lines don't mean anything. In order to get served (fill in awesome dance movie reference there), you pretty much just have to push everyone out of the way. Which I eventually did after being Canadian and polite for an hour and a half. Ugh.


Kyiv Train Station: VIP area (access $5 CAD)



Weird Statue. Presumably killing the Christmas goose?

Dad and Tanya's VERY patient friend Kostia met me at the airport and drove me to the train station. He bought my ticket, told me where to catch my train (in a mix of Russian and pantomime), explained my situation to the nice lady at the VIP lounge and left me there to wait for my 7am train to the Pyatihatki station where Dad and my stepbrother Andrei would collect me.


Photo taken from the train. The windows were REALLY dirty.

Tanya had some clothes ready for me when I got there ("Very big. They fit you.") and after an enormous meal, as only Tanya can make ("You eat hardly anything. Have more."), I decided that I needed a nap. In a Queen-sized bed. In my own room. And I couldn't even hear Dad snoring downstairs, either.

There I shall leave you. More on Christmas, Kuchma, and my new brother and sister-in-law later.

Hope everyone had a great Christmas!