So then, my weekend adventuring…..
It was a blinder. Left Kyiv on the overnight rattler to Lugansk, which is in the very far eastern corner of Ukraine, well past Donetsk ad within touching distance of the Russian border posts. 15 hours on that train, which was full and terribly hot. The locals here have a tendency to stick heating on full blast even if it’s not ‘that’ cold. If it’s in winter, its heating time regardless. So, I was on the top bunk which meant a sleepless night due to the stifling, suffocating heat. A few times I got up to wander around the wagon, and it’s still surreal to find myself standing on a platform in the middle of nowhere, at daft o’clock in the morning during one of the longer station stopovers, listening to all mad tannoy announcements, with literally hardly a soul around, yet a train carrying over a thousand passengers heading for somewhere distant.
Arrived early Friday morning into Lugansk. It is Russia! Straight to the hotel, £11 a night and no hot water in the bathroom. Par for the course out this far east. Quick walk to the ground to buy my ticket; 90p. Bargain. Waltzed past security into the ground to watch the army of volunteers (old babushkas, probably paid 20p per hour) clear the pitch of its covers and the snow/ice stacked high around everywhere. Left the ground, taking more gratuitous floodlight shots on the way out, and by the time I’d walked the half mile or so back to the hotel it was a blizzard. I laughed at the stadium operation I’d just observed….
Match started 7pm so I spent the day mooching around, stopping to gaze at mammoth monuments and Soviet-style architecture on the public buildings. Quote a nice city actually, although rough round the edges. The game itself was quite good, and the crowd (circa 12,000 in a 20,00 stadium) very noisy and very passionate. Lots of vodka had been drunk, and was openly swigged in the stands to keep warm. It was -8c at kick-off and plunged further as the night wore on. Zoria Lugansk beat Krivbass Krivvy Rih 2-0, much to the dismay of the 15 or so away fans huddled together on the far side.
Up early Saturday morning for the local train service to Donetsk which passed through a patchwork quilt of coal mine after coal mine, after plant after power station. Each had their own town-sized community attached to it, so each had a station. These places were GINORMOUS. Huge. Not sure on the carbon footprint, though. The train line is meant to have a fearsome reputation but it was a breeze, albeit one where the breeze carried a strange aroma of p!ss.
Straight to left luggage at Donetsk (the station still isn’t ready for Euro 2012) and off to the Donbas Arena to pay another hugely inflated price of £1.60 for my front-row pitch side seat, level with the 6-yard box. Oh, and the stadium heaters perched in the roof structure were on full blast. I had a couple of hours to kill pre-match, so mooched around this quirky little city in what was my 3rd visit. I like Donetsk, although I soon hated it due to nowhere showing the Everton game.
Back to the uber-futuristic Arena where the 30,000-plus crowd were making their way in. A comfortable afternoon for Shakhtar saw them stroll to a 4-0 win with plenty to spare. It’s a great stadium in which to watch football, a real football ground with no daft running track. The orange and black seats also lend it an identity far removed from the swathe of modern-day boxes. I’m not sure how it’ll look bathed in endless St George Crosses come June – or if that many flags will make it that far, actually. The heaters were noticeable by the absence when I left the ground, as the return to sub-zero was a bit of a wake-up call after the warm glow inside.
Saturday night was spent on the overnighter back to Kyiv, getting me home Sunday morning 7am. Fortunately, I was on the lower berth for this journey but it was still stiflingly warm in the wagon. Joining me in the cabin was a typical Ukrainian girl; i.e. FMBs on, pouting lips, heart-melting eyes and a smile that said, “hello thereâ€. Sadly, we weren’t alone so she was spared the ordeal of me trying to charm her pants off. Instead, we only met eyes when the bint of a mother in with us let her young child (clearly a boy) use the potty when he cried. Which he did. A lot. Cue more smelling of wee.
A quick refresh (i.e. coffee x plenty), upload photos, do laundry etc and then a burst at the gym before venturing out again at midday for the 20-minute metro ride to the northern Kyiv suburb of Obolon. Met up with a couple of local mates, and we didn’t have to queue up for long (about as long as it took to take our money out of our pockets) to hand over our 80p for seats in the side stand. The weather had now reached silly levels; after -13c overnight in Lugansk on Friday, and where my fingers and toes had been in severe pain due to the wind-chill, it was a ridiculous 19c and sunny by Sunday 1pm. So, shirt-sleeves was the order of the day. This was about the only plus point from the tedious Obolon v Volyn Lutsk game. It was a shocker, even by Ukrainian Premier League standards. Obolon – rooted to the bottom of the table – toiled to overcome the visitors, who even gave them a 2-man advantage by midway through the 2nd half. A late goal from the awful home centre forward was enough to seal the points and send the 3,412 home fans home far happier than the 50 or so away fans to our right.
Lunch in a local beer hall up in Obolon (very cheap) and then back onto Kyiv’s magical metro system for the 8 stops direct to the Olympiskiy Stadium. The big one; Dynamo Kyiv v Dnipro Dnipropetrovsk (would need a big flag to get all that lettering onto it). A sell-out crowd of just over 68,000 meant a record attendance ever for an Ukrainian Premier League game. History was also made as some pillock from the UK was taking in his 4th game over the same weekend, a feat so sad it is only matched by the very man himself. The vodka and lager-fuelled crowd were in raucous celebration when a brace of 2nd half goals saw Dynamo reclaim their 3-point march on 2nd placed Shakhtar with only 7 games left to play. Again, full value for money was received despite the hefty ticket price of £1.60.
All in all, train tickets to get me to the furthest corner and back (via Donetsk): £30
4 matches in total: £5.10
Hotel in Lugansk (minus hot water): £11
Even taking into account spending money on food, drink etc, it was still about the same price in total as for one match ticket to a Premier League game back home.
I’d take the above option every single time.
It was a blinder. Left Kyiv on the overnight rattler to Lugansk, which is in the very far eastern corner of Ukraine, well past Donetsk ad within touching distance of the Russian border posts. 15 hours on that train, which was full and terribly hot. The locals here have a tendency to stick heating on full blast even if it’s not ‘that’ cold. If it’s in winter, its heating time regardless. So, I was on the top bunk which meant a sleepless night due to the stifling, suffocating heat. A few times I got up to wander around the wagon, and it’s still surreal to find myself standing on a platform in the middle of nowhere, at daft o’clock in the morning during one of the longer station stopovers, listening to all mad tannoy announcements, with literally hardly a soul around, yet a train carrying over a thousand passengers heading for somewhere distant.
Arrived early Friday morning into Lugansk. It is Russia! Straight to the hotel, £11 a night and no hot water in the bathroom. Par for the course out this far east. Quick walk to the ground to buy my ticket; 90p. Bargain. Waltzed past security into the ground to watch the army of volunteers (old babushkas, probably paid 20p per hour) clear the pitch of its covers and the snow/ice stacked high around everywhere. Left the ground, taking more gratuitous floodlight shots on the way out, and by the time I’d walked the half mile or so back to the hotel it was a blizzard. I laughed at the stadium operation I’d just observed….
Match started 7pm so I spent the day mooching around, stopping to gaze at mammoth monuments and Soviet-style architecture on the public buildings. Quote a nice city actually, although rough round the edges. The game itself was quite good, and the crowd (circa 12,000 in a 20,00 stadium) very noisy and very passionate. Lots of vodka had been drunk, and was openly swigged in the stands to keep warm. It was -8c at kick-off and plunged further as the night wore on. Zoria Lugansk beat Krivbass Krivvy Rih 2-0, much to the dismay of the 15 or so away fans huddled together on the far side.
Up early Saturday morning for the local train service to Donetsk which passed through a patchwork quilt of coal mine after coal mine, after plant after power station. Each had their own town-sized community attached to it, so each had a station. These places were GINORMOUS. Huge. Not sure on the carbon footprint, though. The train line is meant to have a fearsome reputation but it was a breeze, albeit one where the breeze carried a strange aroma of p!ss.
Straight to left luggage at Donetsk (the station still isn’t ready for Euro 2012) and off to the Donbas Arena to pay another hugely inflated price of £1.60 for my front-row pitch side seat, level with the 6-yard box. Oh, and the stadium heaters perched in the roof structure were on full blast. I had a couple of hours to kill pre-match, so mooched around this quirky little city in what was my 3rd visit. I like Donetsk, although I soon hated it due to nowhere showing the Everton game.
Back to the uber-futuristic Arena where the 30,000-plus crowd were making their way in. A comfortable afternoon for Shakhtar saw them stroll to a 4-0 win with plenty to spare. It’s a great stadium in which to watch football, a real football ground with no daft running track. The orange and black seats also lend it an identity far removed from the swathe of modern-day boxes. I’m not sure how it’ll look bathed in endless St George Crosses come June – or if that many flags will make it that far, actually. The heaters were noticeable by the absence when I left the ground, as the return to sub-zero was a bit of a wake-up call after the warm glow inside.
Saturday night was spent on the overnighter back to Kyiv, getting me home Sunday morning 7am. Fortunately, I was on the lower berth for this journey but it was still stiflingly warm in the wagon. Joining me in the cabin was a typical Ukrainian girl; i.e. FMBs on, pouting lips, heart-melting eyes and a smile that said, “hello thereâ€. Sadly, we weren’t alone so she was spared the ordeal of me trying to charm her pants off. Instead, we only met eyes when the bint of a mother in with us let her young child (clearly a boy) use the potty when he cried. Which he did. A lot. Cue more smelling of wee.
A quick refresh (i.e. coffee x plenty), upload photos, do laundry etc and then a burst at the gym before venturing out again at midday for the 20-minute metro ride to the northern Kyiv suburb of Obolon. Met up with a couple of local mates, and we didn’t have to queue up for long (about as long as it took to take our money out of our pockets) to hand over our 80p for seats in the side stand. The weather had now reached silly levels; after -13c overnight in Lugansk on Friday, and where my fingers and toes had been in severe pain due to the wind-chill, it was a ridiculous 19c and sunny by Sunday 1pm. So, shirt-sleeves was the order of the day. This was about the only plus point from the tedious Obolon v Volyn Lutsk game. It was a shocker, even by Ukrainian Premier League standards. Obolon – rooted to the bottom of the table – toiled to overcome the visitors, who even gave them a 2-man advantage by midway through the 2nd half. A late goal from the awful home centre forward was enough to seal the points and send the 3,412 home fans home far happier than the 50 or so away fans to our right.
Lunch in a local beer hall up in Obolon (very cheap) and then back onto Kyiv’s magical metro system for the 8 stops direct to the Olympiskiy Stadium. The big one; Dynamo Kyiv v Dnipro Dnipropetrovsk (would need a big flag to get all that lettering onto it). A sell-out crowd of just over 68,000 meant a record attendance ever for an Ukrainian Premier League game. History was also made as some pillock from the UK was taking in his 4th game over the same weekend, a feat so sad it is only matched by the very man himself. The vodka and lager-fuelled crowd were in raucous celebration when a brace of 2nd half goals saw Dynamo reclaim their 3-point march on 2nd placed Shakhtar with only 7 games left to play. Again, full value for money was received despite the hefty ticket price of £1.60.
All in all, train tickets to get me to the furthest corner and back (via Donetsk): £30
4 matches in total: £5.10
Hotel in Lugansk (minus hot water): £11
Even taking into account spending money on food, drink etc, it was still about the same price in total as for one match ticket to a Premier League game back home.
I’d take the above option every single time.
