I left off my last blog entry going out in search of lunch. Of course I ended up at Glossary. Not only is a comfortable place for me; the food is also really fresh and good. I had cabbage salad, mlintsi (crepes) filled with mushrooms and onions and topped with sour cream. I broke my custom of starting with cappuccino and just had water, saving coffee till the end. My waiter seems to have devised a custom of his own, serving two confections instead of one with the cappuccino.
It's a good thing I had two confections because the day started to go downhill from there. I went to the office of the ticket agency a few metro stops away. It was a secure building with a check-in desk and the two men "guarding" it decided that there was no way they were admitting me to the building. Frustratingly, I didn't have the phone number of the agency so I went back to my apartment. I checked email to find that the agency I couldn't get into had informed me that they couldn't get my tickets for me after all and I should go to the main train station myself. I decided I should take a nap to regain my serenity.
A friend called to meet him for coffee so I walked down to meet him. It had gotten very hot and I was overdressed. Inside McCafe, it was really hot. My friend arrived and decided we should go to an art gallery. But I had to go to the train station to try to get a ticket. We ended up having an argument and going our separate ways. I went to the train station and my evening started going further downhill. There were literally hundreds of people getting tickets. I got in a long line and waited for an hour. When I got to the window, the woman said "wrong window" but wouldn't tell me what window to go to; she just called the next person. I went out to the lobby and found the Information desk. The woman spoke no English and told me there was no more train today to Mariupol. I knew that. I said I want a ticket for tomorrow. She pointed to the ticket windows I had just come from; then she called loudly "next!" and I was dismissed. I gave up and set out for the apartment. I took a wrong turn and got lost for a while wandering mostly uphill. I was tired and discouraged. I phoned my friend, Zoryan who was on a train back to Kiev. He texted me a website to buy my ticket. When I got back to the apartment, I found that, even though there was an "English" button on the page, all the reservation stuff was in Ukrainian. I gave up and went to bed. It's the first time I ever felt like such a stranger and foreigner in Ukraine.
I got up this morning determined to work my way through the Ukrainian website of reservations. It took me quite a while with my dictionary, but I think I have managed to by first class tickets both going and coming back. I saved the confirmation pages and emailed them to Anna, asking her to check that I did, indeed, buy what I thought I did. I also asked her to print them out and bring them to lunch today. Then I will go back to the train station with the documents to pick up my tickets. I know where that internet window is. However, until I have the actual travel documents in my hand, I won't be convinced the whole process of getting the tickets is over.
Although I've tried to convince a lot of English speaking folks to come to Ukraine, I'll amend that to "come, but make sure you have a Ukrainian or Russian speaker with you when you have to do business."
It's a good thing I had two confections because the day started to go downhill from there. I went to the office of the ticket agency a few metro stops away. It was a secure building with a check-in desk and the two men "guarding" it decided that there was no way they were admitting me to the building. Frustratingly, I didn't have the phone number of the agency so I went back to my apartment. I checked email to find that the agency I couldn't get into had informed me that they couldn't get my tickets for me after all and I should go to the main train station myself. I decided I should take a nap to regain my serenity.
A friend called to meet him for coffee so I walked down to meet him. It had gotten very hot and I was overdressed. Inside McCafe, it was really hot. My friend arrived and decided we should go to an art gallery. But I had to go to the train station to try to get a ticket. We ended up having an argument and going our separate ways. I went to the train station and my evening started going further downhill. There were literally hundreds of people getting tickets. I got in a long line and waited for an hour. When I got to the window, the woman said "wrong window" but wouldn't tell me what window to go to; she just called the next person. I went out to the lobby and found the Information desk. The woman spoke no English and told me there was no more train today to Mariupol. I knew that. I said I want a ticket for tomorrow. She pointed to the ticket windows I had just come from; then she called loudly "next!" and I was dismissed. I gave up and set out for the apartment. I took a wrong turn and got lost for a while wandering mostly uphill. I was tired and discouraged. I phoned my friend, Zoryan who was on a train back to Kiev. He texted me a website to buy my ticket. When I got back to the apartment, I found that, even though there was an "English" button on the page, all the reservation stuff was in Ukrainian. I gave up and went to bed. It's the first time I ever felt like such a stranger and foreigner in Ukraine.
I got up this morning determined to work my way through the Ukrainian website of reservations. It took me quite a while with my dictionary, but I think I have managed to by first class tickets both going and coming back. I saved the confirmation pages and emailed them to Anna, asking her to check that I did, indeed, buy what I thought I did. I also asked her to print them out and bring them to lunch today. Then I will go back to the train station with the documents to pick up my tickets. I know where that internet window is. However, until I have the actual travel documents in my hand, I won't be convinced the whole process of getting the tickets is over.
Although I've tried to convince a lot of English speaking folks to come to Ukraine, I'll amend that to "come, but make sure you have a Ukrainian or Russian speaker with you when you have to do business."
Talk abaout a high blood pressure kind of day. Oy! Hopefully your next trip to the station won't be nearly as frustrating. There's not a nap long enough to regain serenity from that experience! Love....
ReplyDeleteI can't even imagine being there - even if the UK where they spoke English there were times that I had no idea what they were talking about, but at least I could question until I did understand! I look forward to your train journey as well! I always feel like we are in your back pocket!
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