Note: I've posted more photos of Kolomiya and Lviv at kwilhelm.smugmug.com.
The gloomy breakfast room at Chernivtsi's Hotel Cheremosh was full of dubious-looking guys, but the women on the reception desk couldn't have been more helpful. They called the bus station to check the times for me, and then explained that I could take any eastbound tram from outside the hotel to get there. Soon I was riding out of town, past the truly huge Kalynivsky Market, said to draw 50,000 people a day.
Since it was a Lonely Planet "Author's Choice", and since Lonely Planet had let me down several times on this trip, I had some doubts about my destination, the "On the Corner" B&B in Kolomiya. Turned out, this recommendation was spot on, and the B&B became a leading contender for "best value" accommodation on the whole trip. Not only did the energetic young entrepreneur running it make a welcome contrast to Ciprian in Romania, but my room was big, the bed was comfortable and the plentiful food was excellent. The shared bathroom even came with a heated floor. (Vitaliy is planning to add bathrooms to his bedrooms this year.)
I enjoyed the town, too: Small enough to walk but large enough to be interesting. While the egg-shaped Pysanky Museum, featuring the area's hand-painted Easter eggs, was worth a visit, the Museum of Hutsul Folk Art was a knockout. I hadn't previously heard of the Hutsuls, who live scattered across Ukraine's Carpathian mountains, but learned they are known for their handicrafts. After visiting the Museum I could see why. The beautiful inlaid woodwork, and the elaborate embroidery, impressed me enough that I made a second visit - with my camera.
My second day in town Vasiliy took me up into the mountains to visit the "largest village in the world", strung out along a valley. On the way we passed a memorial to a fight against Soviet tanks - in the 1950s. While the Crimea and Eastern Ukraine may look to Russia, the west is home to Ukrainian nationalism.
As in Romania, many of the houses were decorated, but here pressed tin was the predominant medium. We visited one family, where I bought embroidery, entering the yard through a wedding arch. I admired the wedding outfits, and the special cake made for the occasion. I had seen several wedding parties the day before in town, the cars decked out with ribbons, flowers and balloons.
Next day the weather turned wet again, and instead of hiking I took it easy, spending some time chatting with the only other guest, a well-traveled Brit. Having driven a Land Rover across Africa, he now planned to enter the Mongol Rally, which involves driving a small and aging car from London to Ulaan Baator with no support team. I felt a little jealous. (If this looks like fun you could also check out the Rickshaw Run - 2,000 miles across India in a three-wheeler.)
Vasiliy rode to the train station with me to help me buy my ticket to Lviv ($4 and show your passport) and see me onto the train. As with most Eastern European trains, this one consisted of old-style carriages with separate compartments rather than the open airplane style favored in Western Europe.
Despite an initial hassle with the taxi drivers at the station, who seemed to think their meters were purely ornamental, I quickly fell in love with Lviv. I had wanted to stay at the George Hotel, old but central, but it was fully booked (by a tour group, I discovered) and I settled instead for the more expensive Hotel Eney, new, chic and close to the cemetery.
Oh yes, Lychakivsky Cemetery. I spent a whole morning there, wandering dirt and gravel paths under the trees, and still left much unexplored. Soviet-era graves, starkly Socialist realist, mingled with the older angels. A military section, target of local tour groups, spread ordered lines of white crosses down a hillside - no trees here. Some families had even built mini-houses for their dead. A visit to the outdoor Folk Museum was less successful, partly because of the rain, and partly because the relocated old buildings were far apart and somewhat hard to find.
I managed to arrange a tour guide through the often-closed Tourist Office, and we spent a morning mostly visiting churches - Dominican, Armenian, Ukrainian Catholic, Roman Catholic, Russian Catholic...
Lviv is still renovating its historic center, and unfortunately my visit coincided with work on the main square, Ploshcha Rynok. Instead of the atmospheric outdoor cafes I expected, I found the whole square being torn up and repaved. The Ukrainian government, my guide said, had provided the money for Lviv to spruce itself up for its 750th anniversary celebrations, but all the money had to be spent by the end of 2006.
Some of the restaurants around the square were also closed, but that gave me an excuse for a second meal at the small but charming Cafe Amadeus. Lviv is a wonderful bargain for foodies - I indulged in plenty of (red) caviar, along with tender lamb chops and red borscht, and a good chicken béarnaise at the grand Grand Hotel. I could go back just for the food. I found good coffee too, notably at the Golden Ducat, a dark basement cafe with a mirrored ceiling on the corner of a rundown street southeast of the Rynok.
With a walkable center, a large and frequent tram system and plenty of charm, Lviv is in danger of becoming the next Prague - i.e. overrun by tourists and drinking parties. Happily, so far cheap flights are heading for Kiev instead. In fact, getting from Lviv to Slovakia had proved a little difficult. I finally decided to go via Poland, partly because I wanted to revisit Krakow. I bought the train ticket in Lviv, an interesting exercise.
I found the downtown ticket office crammed with people, but when I managed to locate the right window for my train the line was short - but slow. After I handed the ticket seller a slip of paper with details of my journey, she consulted her terminal and printed my ticket. But then she copied all the details out again, in longhand. Twice. Now I understood the crowds.
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