Ukraine (Ride Report)

Day 44

I’ve done my homework this time, and have on good authority (from a random guy in Kyiv) that the only Poland-Ukraine border that currently allows bikes across is at Medyka, 20 km east of Przemyśl. About 5 km from the border the road widens to a dual carriageway and there’s a very new and well-built cycle path alongside. This is promising. 

I’ve been reading the Visit Ukraine website which had lots of recent info and was encouraging foreigners to visit Lviv and other cities in the west. This has recently had a makeover, and while not saying “don’t come” it does point out that less than 1% of foreign visitors state tourism as their reason for travel. Warnings are much more prominent now. FCDO advice for the area I want to go to is “yellow” so my insurance covers it. 

The car queue is moving very slowly, maybe one vehicle every five or ten minutes. I’m directed to a separate crossing point with the pedestrians. There are not many going in, but the queue UA to PL is very, very long for non-EU passports. That will be something to be aware of when I come to leave (bloody Brexit!).

Last time I came to Ukraine there were lengthy questions at the border, the only thing in my favour seemingly the Moldova stamp in my passport. So I’ve planned to state my purpose as “transit to Moldova”. The reaction to this is simply amazement that I’m expecting to do that on a bike. I explain that I’ve cycled here from the UK which elicits further incredulity. No other transport? I get big smiles and welcomes, a rare thing from border guards! And I’m in. They are happy to write “tourism” on the entry logs.

The main road goes straight to Lviv in 80 km, but I have a back road route of 105 km which looks good on paper. The roads are great for a while, then the expected gravel roads, but this one is hard to ride. A fully-loaded touring bike is tough on this kind of road, the gravel is loose and the bike juddering through the holes with the weight. I make slow progress but get to go through the little villages. As I get further from the border the gravel gets more compacted and I make more headway, even so I’m happy to eventually see some tarmac.

Quite disconcerting is the number of red and black flags being flown alongside the blue and yellow ones. Every village has a memorial, each with a number of recent names, often with photographs.

I stop regularly to add to my collection of Ex-Soviet Bus Shelter photographs.

The frequent stops, together with the slow roads and the one-hour time difference means I don’t arrive at Lviv until 7 pm. First impressions are chaos, I’m hot and tired, the whole city is paved in dodgy cobblestones, there are tram lines, weaving scooters and deliveroos, no obvious priority at junctions and the constant noise of large cars trying to drive as fast as possible over the cobbles.

Second impressions: Lviv is a buzzing city. It’s amazing. Huge café culture, lovely old buildings set out around numerous green squares. There are a lot of visitors here, mostly Ukrainian I presume, though I can’t tell Polish from Czech from Ukrainian. Lots of people doing touristy things. I do know there was a Canadian cyclist staying at my hotel less than a week ago so I’m not a complete outlier. I’m made to feel very welcome. 

Day 45 (not a ride report)

At 9:00 everyone in Lviv stops. Pedestrians stand still, cars stop, trams stop and everyone on board stands up. I had not been told of this, but luckily I worked it out quickly enough. It’s quite something. 

Later there was a funeral at the cathedral with full military honours. Three coffins came out, the military band played. What a stupid fucking waste of lives this whole thing is, for nothing at all, just some stupid narcissistic old man who can’t lose face. 

At lunchtime there’s the sound of sirens, but no-one takes any notice. It turns out it’s just a car parade by one of the far-right groups, possibly Right Sector. I don’t know how much support the Banderites have and one of my rules of travelling, since 1980, is not to discuss religion or politics.

Day 46

I’m heading to the foothills of the Carpathians. Several people have recommended Сколе (Skole) in Skolivski Beskydy National Park. Once out of Lviv I turn on to a less trafficked route and the rolling, long, straight Ukrainian roads are much more of a joy to ride than I remember from last time. It’s great to start seeing some views after all the flat lands.

Something doesn’t feel quite right, a little grumbling underfoot. I stop to apply a little lube to the chain, but it’s not that. There’s play in the bottom bracket. A lot. Thinking back I realise I last replaced the BB after last time I was in Poland, and that was years ago.

Luckily my route is taking me not far from Дрогобич (Drohobych) where on a tiny back street there’s an excellent bike shop (thank god for Gooogle!). The guy there takes the bike and strips it down straight away. He’s then really apologetic, he can’t repair the BB (I knew that) and he’ll have to replace it (yes, of course), it will be expensive. He gets on with it while I have a bizarre conversation with a Polish lumberjack who doesn’t seem to be buying a bike or anything related, and knows about three words of English (to be fair I only know that much Polish/Ukrainian/Russian). Ten minutes later, it’s done. The bill: £8 parts and labour. I feel so bad I try to find some other stuff to buy and settle on some sunglasses and new track mitts. It’s still only £20, total.

The delay means I can’t get to Сколе unless I do the main road all the way, so a change of plans. I know I’ll need to backtrack from Сколе anyway, with the mountains being in the way, so I settle on staying two nights at the “resort” town of Стрий (Stryi) which will give me an unladen excursion up into the Carpathians for a day, then onwards to Ivano-Frankivsk direct from Стрий.

Some more bus shelters:

Stryi seems to be a once-grand town, now a little run-down. The hotel I’m staying at is huge but they greet me by name as I arrive. There appears to be only one other person staying here. There’s a fully staffed restaurant, bar, etc. These places are hanging on by a thread and although I’m prepared to spend as much as I can the most expensive dish on the menu is under a tenner. It’s a little spooky, to be honest. Out in the courtyard there’s the biggest water feature I’ve ever seen and seating for hundreds.

Day 47

The ride up to the foothills of the Carpathians is pleasant with not much traffic on the main road, and I take a few detours through the villages to either side. The strategic bridges are patrolled by soldiers, even this far from the front. Arrival at Skole is heralded by some trumpeters and an angel. Not sure what that’s all about.

Then cross the River Opir into the national park

There’s a 40₴ (72p) charge to enter the park, but my card is declined. “Compliance requirements” and “not valid in your current region” apparently, this doesn’t make sense there are no sanctions on Ukraine. The soldier on the gate lets me through anyway, but I start to worry that I might be blocked from money, several apps and websites are blocked here (credit card, pension, things like that). I use the card successfully later, so my guess is that the terminal at the park gate is owned by the military.

There is then a lovely cycle up through the countryside, I don’t have time for the hike from the road up to the Dead Lake unfortunately.

The ride back to Stryi is a bit hairy, in the afternoon the road gets very busy, but I make good time with a tailwind and it’s downhill all the way.

The park entrance in Stryi has had a fairly recent makeover. The inscription says “Fight, you will overcome, God help you!” which is a quote from the Ukrainian poet Shevchenko.

Day 48

A pleasant ride to Ivano-Frankivsk mostly on the back roads. 

Komoot describes this as “Intermediate road ride, well-paved surfaces and easy to ride. Estimated average speed 23.2 km/h”

The roads are variable, but I’m not in a hurry. Some described as asphalt have maybe ten percent of the actual surface left, the rest just potholes and bits of the concrete subsurface. Most motor traffic (there isn’t much) can’t attain 23.2 km/h here. Then randomly, perfect new surfaces with no traffic other than me. 

When I break for lunch at a small shop with seating, everyone passing stops to shake my hand. Not sure what that’s all about.

Pass through many villages, a lot of remote countryside, then Kalush, and the day ends with several long slow climbs before the descent into the city. Ivano-Frankivsk is the major city of the region, the outskirts are a huge mass of Soviet apartment blocks and their modern, similar, equivalent. The centre has little charm left, a few nice green spaces but most of the old buildings have been replaced with blandness.

The hotel I’ve booked has a themed restaurant attached, with waiters in traditional dress, etc. It seems very popular, and it means I can get (approximations of) Ukrainian food.

Day 49

Last minute change of plan. Last night I was thinking of heading to Chernivtsi then perhaps to Kamanets-Poldilskiy, where I have been previously. Looking at the map that looks like a main road drag, and after all WTF is there in Chernivtsi? So instead I plot a route south into the Carpathian National Park. 

This was a good idea. As I get further from Ivano-Frankivst the traffic thins out, and the scenery gets gorgeous. Yesterday was broad-leaved forest, today is pines and mountains. The route is gently upwards, through a couple of ski resorts, then a turn away from the popular area to the pass at 970 m. It’s not photogenic like the Carpathian roads in Romania, far too many trees around, but it makes for a fantastic day of cycling. 

From here it’s now still a day to Chernivsti, then I need to decide whether to bother with Kamanets-Podilskiy, I’ve seen the castle and there’s not much else there. Also I need to work out how best to get to Moldova, which crossings might let me across.

Day 50

From Verkhovyna, nestled in the mountains, my route takes me climbing to the next pass at 835 m, through more beautiful scenery, along the river, though this side is more populated. From there it’s downhill almost the whole 100 km to Chernivtsi.

Typical Carpathian house. The modern ones have the same shape but much less interesting windows. 

There are checkpoints first at the oblast boundary then at the raion (county) boundary, this is a controlled border region. They appear to be mainly stopping young men in fast cars, so I’m waved through.

Contrary to my expectations, Chernivtsi is not an industrial city, it’s actually a cultural centre, full of Central European classical architecture, grand churches and a huge university. Only the occasional soviet-style apartment block. Once referred to as “Little Vienna”. I also learned that it’s not pronounced Chernivitsy (that’s the Russian pronunciation I heard last time I was in Ukraine) but in Ukrainian it’s Chernyootsy.

Day 52

The border between Romania and Moldova is the River Prut, all the way to the Danube, but before that the Prut flows through Chernivtsi. I take the road south of the river to Lunka, which is as far as you can go before hitting Romania. The landscape has changed dramatically, it’s now rolling farmland, all very green, with lime trees along the roads and gold-roofed churches on the hill tops.

From Lunka I cross the Prut and follow the Romanian border, sometimes so close that the razor wire runs along the roadside. There are more army checkpoints here, and they’re more thorough, they check papers, open car boots, etc. The towns along here look quite affluent, but there are not many people about and a lot of new-looking businesses are boarded up.

At the border there’s a surprisingly long queue, given how few cars have passed me. I’m given a ticket which I’m supposed to present at four different windows but there’s no indication of which ones or in what order. At least on a bike I’m allowed to go straight to the front so the whole process takes only half an hour. All my panniers are searched, and the cars are getting a thorough going-over, hence the queue.