Late the next morning a television crew from a news channel in Kiev was filming a story at the hostel. The reporter asked me to wear a wireless mic while I made my tea to do an impromptu interview with her about the hostel and the reason I was there. Some of the staff were interviewed as well before they interviewed the owner and left the scene. Daryna at Dream Hostel recommended that I leave at one o'clock to make the airport just in case. It was a good thing I took her advice.
You see, there are two airports in and near Kiev as in most big cities. Usually the airports for the big-name airliners are situated outside of the main city where space is not at a premium. The smaller and older airports are usually within the city limits and have long been outgrown by the traffic and space requirements of the bigger airliners. These are usually converted to a discount airliners' runway where the planes are smaller and go shorter distances, making them cheaper for travel within the continent.
Right before leaving the hostel, a Norwegian man gave me directions to the same metro station that the staff directed me to but added a very interesting tidbit; there were minibuses that took passengers straight from the metro station to the airport for twenty-five gryvnia; much better than taking the tram from the metro station and not knowing which stop to get off at or whether I had to make any additional transfers. I followed his directions to the minibuses and got into one of them he described, paying my fare of twenty-five gryvnia after asking a brisk and irritable Ukrainian woman if this was the bus to the airport.
Halfway through the journey I sensed that something was wrong, so I went up to the driver of the bus and asked whether we were in fact going to Zhuliani airport, the one inside the city. An explosion of what sounded like expletives were thrown at me in rapid succession until I realized that the driver was apt to stop the bus and throw me out if I didn't get back to my seat. I stopped by one of the passengers asking her the same question to find out that we were headed to the Boryspil international airport outside of the city. “Should I get off here?” I asked. “No, might as well get to the end of the line and take the next bus back to Kiev.” It was already five so I started worrying over whether I would miss my flight.
The lady that helped me in the bus pointed me in the direction of the next bus leaving for Kiev, where I tried to explain to the new driver that I was on the wrong bus, intending to get to Zhuliani airport and that I would like to ride back to the starting point for free. I mean it's the same company and I obviously bought the ticket in error, I thought. He was having none of that game, giving me a few glimpses of the terrifying character I already saw from his comrade that was apt to emerge if I kept this up. I paid my second ticket of twenty-five gryvnia to get back to Kiev.
A fellow bus traveller who worked at the Boryspil airport overheard me speaking with the driver and offered to help me make it to Zhuliani airport as quickly as possible. He called us a cab that waited for us at the metro and we ended up making it in the nick of time. I texted Shawn to tell him I had no hard feelings and wished him well while I was waiting to board the flight to London.
The flight to London was an emotional one. Feeling the passions and tensions of Ukraine slowly melting away on the flight, I started talking with a nice Ukrainian girl who sat next to me. “I want two-to-four children and I want to start having them in two years” she blurted out after talking with her about her past relationships. I showed her some pics of my travels and soon we were talking and laughing as if we had known each other for years.
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