We wanted to take advantage of a few days off between jobs, and so drove to the Carpathian mountains for a long weekend last week. We took off later on Thursday than desirable (I got stuck in the office *argh*), and made it to Ternopil, about 350 kilometers from Kyiv. It was nice to have Michael with us, especially since he could share the driving with me. But neither of us felt comfortable on the dark, twisty roads, so we stopped for the night, planning for an early start on Friday morning for the remaining 200ish kilometers to Kosiv.
We did start out early, but bad roads and several wrong turns meant we didn’t make it to Kosiv until well after lunchtime. We were tired, hungry, and most of all sick of being in the car. We grabbed lunch at a koliba, a kind of rustic restaurant typical in the Carpathians. Michael had his first taste of the popular food of the region – banosh (a cornmeal dish kind of like polenta), brinza (sheep’s cheese), and the famous Carpathian mountain white mushrooms. Yum!
We then met up with Igor’s grad school friend Sveta for a hike up a hill on the edge of Kosiv. The weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold; the hike was steep, and we were all huffing and puffing. But man did it feel good to be out in the fresh air, surrounded by quiet, and the wonderful aroma of autumn. We saw some ladies with baskets searching for those marvelous white mushrooms. We saw houses dotting the landscape in meadows and little valleys. We saw a man leading a horse up a steep mud trail, the horse struggling to pull up a huge felled tree. At the top of the path, we saw two other giant logs the horse had already lugged up; poor thing, it didn’t look easy.
At the top of the hill, panting but exhilarated, we took in the gorgeous view all around – brilliant waves of color on the surrounding mountains. This was what we had been hoping for, the beautiful autumn leaves. Michael set up his photo equipment and set to work, and Igor, Sveta and I meandered slowly back down the hill.
Dinner that night was at the fabulous trout restaurant where we ate during our visit last summer. The owners had lived in Italy for a few years and learned the art of trout farming. Their home/restaurant is tucked away, at the end of a dirt road, back between lots of other houses and completely invisible from the main road and seemingly un-distinguishable from the neighbors, until you pass through the gate and find the lovely trout pond surrounded by little gazebos and cabins. Sveta had called in advance for us, so our meals had already been plucked from the pond and well on their way in the dinner preparation process. Usually the owner lets you select your own trout from the pond. The dinner was, of course, phenomenal. We ordered a bottle of wine, only to realize a few minutes later that the owner was going to drive to the store to buy one for us, thinking we didn’t want the house wine. We didn’t know there was a house wine, and were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t sickeningly sweet (as much Ukrainian wine is). We happily saved him a trip and enjoyed the housewine. There are no menus at this restaurant, as their daily special consists of a set meal – a big plate of cabbage salad (kind of like coleslaw), homemade white bread, and one fish per person, swimming in sour cream, with a side of banosh (the polenta-like cornmeal dish). My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
We settled down for the night in Sveta’s partially-renovated house high up on a hillside. Last year, there were just bare walls and work had just started. This year, the first and second floors are nearly complete, sans furniture, and the basement with sauna, showers, and rec room is under way. Igor and I slept upstairs, under the slanted roof with big skylights. I woke up in the middle of the night and stood in awe under the window – the bright moon illuminating the crystal clear night sky, surrounded by a billion pinpoints of light. I simply cannot describe the awesome beauty.
Saturday morning, Sveta, Michael and I were up early to hit the market. I have heard about the Kosiv market for several years now and have been burning to explore it myself. I was well-prepared, with a frightening amount of money in my purse and a strong will to make a nice contribution to the local economy.
Kosiv is the home to a famous Ukrainian artisan institute, where young people study the traditional arts and crafts, becoming modern masters of embroidery, weaving, woodworking, pysanky, and other beautiful handicrafts. I had high hopes to buy a carpet, but didn’t find one that I absolutely loved. I did find a beautiful traditional Ukrainian embroidered blouse, which I am proud to finally have in my wardrobe. I bought some patterns, as well, to try my hand at later, as well as a small painting. I could have happily spent the entire day wandering the market, admiring the thick wool blankets, the delicate woodworkings, and all the other lovely things, but alas, the rest of the group had to be appeased, as well. They seemed to have the crazy notion that shopping was not the single purpose of our trip.
After a quick lunch, Michael took the wheel and had the pleasure of being a passenger for a leisurely drive through the twisty mountain roads. The views were breathtaking every where, the mountains covered in brilliant carpets of bright colors – yellow, gold, red, orange, and still some greens. We stopped a couple times for Michael to take some photos.
There was severe flooding throughout the Carpathians this past summer, and we saw the massive construction efforts under way everywhere as part of the recovery. Sveta told us that 150 bridges had been destroyed in one day. There were still several treacherous spots along the narrow roads, but mostly we were quite impressed with progress made in just a couple of months. Temporary bridges were up everywhere, and new, sounder bridges were well along in the construction process.
We arrived at the highest peak in the Ukrainian Carpathians, Horvela. We had hiked nearly to the top last year, and Igor was anxious to show Michael the wonderful view. I opted to wait below while the three of them hiked up, again nearly to the apex but not venturing the last 150 steep, rocky meters. One of these days we’ll do it.
We marveled at the sunset as we drove back to Kosiv, and stopped after dark at a great little koliba for dinner – again, banosh, white mushrooms, and this time shashliki for the carnivores. Once back at Sveta’s, we were exhausted yet absolutely satisfied. Sad only that we didn’t have another couple of days to relax in the mountains.
Sunday morning was another early start. We planned a different route home, passing through Khotyn and Kamianets-Podolsky with plans to stop and see the fortresses. While still within the mountains, though, two churches caught our attention and we stopped. On one side of the street, a tall, bare, stone abandoned church, Catholic maybe; on the other side of the street, a lively, colorful wooden church with tin roof, ornamented and detailed, receiving the villagers for Sunday mass. We walked around the abandoned church first, peaking through the crack in the wooden front door. Igor picked at the stone and brick facade and declared it 17th century. The inside was stripped bare, cold and dark with thin streams of light cascading down through cracks and holes.
The other church couldn’t have been more opposite – within a low fence, the surrounding grass was still bright green, the bushes and flowers full and colorful. The pathway clean and well-maintained. We noticed the woman, all in skirts with covered heads, entering through the front door, while most of the men walked around to the right side to an entrance we couldn’t see. Igor later commented that he has heard of some mountain congregations that have separate areas for men and women, but we were confused that a few of the men entered the same door we went in through, where all the women entered. We also saw another side door which 3 women were standing just outside of, their heads leaning in through the open doorway. “Do you know why they are standing there?” Igor asked me. I hazarded a guess, “That time of the month?” Yep. Menstruating women aren’t supposed to enter the church, and apparently these ladies still wanted to participate as much as was allowable. I’ll never understand believing in a church (or any other organization or person) that thinks you are lessor, for any reason, but especially for a completely natural and normal process. It just boggles my mind.
I covered my head with my scarf, feeling self-conscious in my grungy jeans and tennis shoes. We would have clearly stood out as strangers even if dressed appropriately, in such a small village where everyone knows each other. We were greeted with curious stares and, much to my relief, warm smiles. I couldn’t help notice the din of whispers as the congregation became aware of our presence in the back of the church. One woman smiled and motioned forward with her hand, encouraging us to move in further.
The very back of the church, where we had entered, had a low ceiling, which blocked the view into the small but tall main chamber of the church. At first glance, it looked like most any other Orthodox church, with the iconstasis, icons, candles, etc. My first shock though was to see benches – not just a couple along the side walls for the extreme elderly or disabled, but ROWS of benches, from the back to the front of the church. I have never seen benches, or any other instrument for sitting, in an Orthodox church in Ukraine or Russia. They just don’t do that.
The second shock, more amusing, came into view as I walked along the center aisle and more of the main hall came into view. There was a bright neon icon, with flashing lights all around it. It was one of the gaudiest things I’ve ever seen! And seemed so absurd in the church. I had a good chuckle just looking at it.
We continued our trip, which went much slower than we had expected (what else is new? We should know by now that ever road trip in Ukraine takes twice as long as we anticipate). We made it to Khotyn by about noon, and decided to stop for about 30 minutes to see the famous fortress. The setting is really beautiful, as you walk from the parking lot, crest the hill, and look out across the fortress with the Dneister river flowing by. There was a lot of work being done on the fortress, and Igor commented that we should come back in 3 years. We still managed to explore the area for over an hour, and really enjoyed the site. But we sacrificed the stop at Kamianets-Podolsky, even though Igor said it’s in better condition. We were hours behind in our travel schedule, and not looking forward to the long long drive still ahead.
We made it to about 30 kilometers outside Kyiv before the hellish traffic jams started, about 7:00 pm. Three hours later, we finally dragged ourselves up the stairs to our apartment, exhausted. It was a hard trip, definitely too short, but I’m so glad we did it. An autumn visit to the mountains will most certainly become an annual trip for us.
Anka in Kyiv 