russia: moscow: gogol's house and a roman catholic church

Welcome back to exploring Moscow. Not long after my classes finished in the morning I left school and started walking.

My first destination was a museum called Gogol's House. Nikolai Gogol was a Russian writer who originally came from what is now Ukraine. He was born in a town near Poltava, when it was part of the Russian Empire.

When I lived in Ukraine I heard Gogol's name a lot more than I've heard it since moving to Russia. Much of his writing was influenced by his upbringing, so there is a lot about Ukrainian and rural culture.

Gogol went to university in what is now Nyzhin, the school is now named after him. He went on to be a professor at a university in St Petersburg.

Like many well known authors, Gogol struggled with depression. In one particularly well known episode of his last years, he threw a bunch of his papers into a fireplace. This fireplace is in the museum, protected by a plastic/glass screen. Not long afterward he got into bed, and stopped eating. He never left his bed, and died after nine days.

The reason this museum exists in Moscow is because this is where he spent the last four years of his life. He was originally buried in the grounds of Danilov monastery in Moscow, but later on the Soviet authorities moved him to Novodevichy cemetery, which is the home of a number of other Russian celebrities.

This museum wasn't terribly exciting, mostly because I don't know the writings of Gogol. If's probably a good place to see if you're more familiar with the man.

After the house museum I started walking again, making my way to something you don't see much of in Moscow: a Roman Catholic church.

The church of the Immaculate Conception is red brick on the outside, with beige and light yellow inside. After years of the over the top decoration of Orthodox churches, this church pales in comparison.

ukraine: lviv never gets old...and a day trip to rava ruska

I will never get tired of spending time in Lviv. I think this was my 9^th or 10^th visit, and I loved it, as I always do. I booked a place to stay and quickly found out that the owner (it was a private flat,) didn't speak any English. Thankfully, the front office manager at school was able to help me out with arranging a check in time. At least, that's what I thought. The man called me back Friday evening before I got on the train, and through a difficult (almost impossible) conversation (with my limited Ukrainian) I was able to change the check in time to one that suited me better. Note: if you know the person with whom you're speaking doesn't speak your language, use simpler words and speak more slowly.

For the first time, I was on one of the newer night trains, and it wasn't immediately obvious how everything worked. The other people in my area didn't know either, much to the amusement of us all.

As usual, I arrived in Lviv before dawn, and wandered around the city as I usually do. I got to the location of my accomodation just as we'd arranged. I got to check in at 0800, which was awesome.

Even more awesome was the flat itself. It was a studio flat, but it was big. There was enough room for a big bed, and a sofa/tv area. I didn't watch the tv at all, but I loved the area in terms of being able to have something separate from the sleeping area.

After settling in, I looked at my watch and realized I needed to get back to the train station really fast if I was going to make my train. I alternated between running and speed walking the entire way, arriving at the front of the train station 3 minutes before my train was supposed to leave. Since Ukrainian trains generally leave on time, I kept going. I ran through the station and out to the track I needed. Thank goodness I was able to buy the ticket on the train, otherwise I would've been out of luck. I'm pretty sure I was the youngest person on the train by a couple decades, at least.

Under three hours later I arrived in Rava Ruska, Ukraine. It's not quite on the border with Poland, but it's only a couple kilometers away. It's not a tourist destination in Ukraine, but most of the places I've visited in the country wouldn't be considered tourist destinations.

The train station in Rava Ruska is totally different from the other train stations I've seen around the country. It is small of course, but seemed much more homey, as opposed to the grand classical look I'm used to seeing.

Another thing I noticed was that it said the name of the town on both sides of the station (track side and outer side,) which isn't normal. I'm used to seeing the town name on the track side and the word Vokzal (train station) on the outer side.

From the train station I could see the gold domes of a church, so I started walking in that direction. Eventually I got there, finding a Greek Catholic church. It was painted dark yellow, and the front door was locked. On the same property was a much smaller church, this one made of wood. It wasn't open either. I got the impression I was looking at the old and new versions of the same church.

As I walked through town I found heaps of old, abandoned looking houses and buildings. I couldn't tell if they were lived in or not. Some of the properties had chickens running around, so I assume those were inhabited. I also saw a number of wells, so not everyone has running water in their home.

The sidewalks in Rava Ruska were lacking in that they weren't complete. I would walk for a little bit on a sidewalk then it would disappear. I'd switch to the other side of the street, then it would disappear after a little while. Weird.

My first sight was something that looked like a war memorial. I'm not sure what specifically it was honouring, but I admired it anywho.

As I was leaving the memorial an older gentleman started to talk to me. As he was speaking Ukrainian and missing a few teeth, I had no idea what he was saying. I kept saying I don't understand, over and over again. I said it in English, Ukrainian, and Russian; he didn't seem to care or didn't understand.

I think at one point he might've been inviting me to his place for coffee, but I turned that down and tried to walk away. He seemed determined to communicate with me, but I wasn't very comfortable with the situation. I'm all for getting to know locals when traveling, but there has to be some sort of language in common, whether spoken or charades; this wasn't the case with this conversation.

At a few points he took a step closer to me, as if that would fix everything. I don't like strangers getting close to me when there is plenty of space available, so I took steps back. He noticed this and laughed about it, which I did not appreciate. Why do men think it is funny when a woman is clearly not comfortable with their behaviour? Argh.

Eventually I just walked away, even though I felt rude.

I followed this street, past another memorial, to a main street in town. On one corner of the intersection was a small chapel, quite pretty.

Further down the main street I found city hall. Its a unique looking building, definitely not what I would've expected in a city hall. City Hall was located next to the fire station, which was really good looking.

Not too far away I found a bakery with a tasty looking eclair. I was right, it was tasty.

I turned around and walked back in the other direction on this main street. At one point I noticed a small local market, so I wandered through there. Nothing special, but still nice to see. All the vendors I could see were older folks.

At another intersection I found another park area with a much bigger war memorial. I'm sure this one was dedicated to WW2, and it had the same Soviet realism I've seen all over the country.

I kept walking down the street and found a church. This one was painted a dark yellowish orange, as was the outer property wall. I found it quite ugly, but I still wanted to see the inside of the church. I walked through the outer gate, and immediately noticed that the bell tower wasn't on the church itself. It was a lot small, and looked more like a mini aqueduct, with three arches and a bell in each arch. It was also painted the horried yellowish orange colour.

I walked into the church, I was the only visitor at the time. A couple ladies inside were cleaning, and only glanced at me. I wasn't a big fan of the interior, though I don't know why. The ceiling was a turquoise kind of colour, and there was a low hanging chandelier. The carpet was patterned red, and the iconostasis was painted wood.

I got back to the street and wound around some smaller streets to a Polish Catholic church. (Since this was western Ukraine, I expected to see Catholic and Orthodox churches.) Unfortunately, not even the front gate of this one was open.

When I started walking on the main street again I could see the top of an abandoned monastery. I love abandoned places, and after not getting to see the abandoned monastery in Sokal I hoped to change that this time around.

I ended up walking almost all the way around the monastery to find the entry. It turned out there was a motel on one side of the property, which seemed a little strange to me. I found an open gate and walked through. From there I circled around the church, which has definitely had better days. There was rubbish all over the property, as well as what seemed to be building materials. From the outside appearance I couldn't tell if renovation work was being done.

The front of the church didn't appear to be open, but there was an open door to the building next door. Of course I went inside.

This building must've been the cloister and living area for the monastery when it was active. I walked down the halls and up the stairs and down more halls. I peeked into small rooms off the halls, but there was nothing except abandonment.

Falling down and peeling paint. Not a speck of furniture anywhere. I found the remains of one fresco painting on a wall, that was it.

In the hall next to the church I was able to peek into the church, but the door that allowed me to do so wouldn't open far enough to let me in the sanctuary. Argh.

In one of the upper hallways I found a window of sorts that I was able to climb through and get to the balcony of the church. Awesome. I loved it.

When I got back out to the yard in front of the church I noticed there was no lock on the church door, it was just one of those sliding doohickeys.

Since it hadn't been moved in a while I had to rock it back and forth, but it did open. Then I was on the ground floor of the sanctuary, yay!

This church clearly hasn't been used or taken care of in quite a while. I could see the remains of frescoes all over the walls and ceilings. There was a bookcase of sorts at the front, behind where the iconostasis would've been I couldn't identify anything else in the room.

Eventually I went outside again, and walked back toward the city center. As I walked, I looked at the city on google maps and noticed a mass grave marked, of course I made my way in that direction. I made my way up the street and first stopped at a cemetery.

It was a typical cemetery with a variety of styles in grave markers. In one corner was a Soviet memorial of some kind, I don't know what it was for specifically. Soldiers, maybe? Next to this memorial is what used to be a stone chapel.

When I got to the mass grave sight I immediately saw the sign describing the sight. The sign was in three languages, Hebrew, English, and Ukrainian. It said that the grave held the remains of 3000 or so people who had been massacred in the area during the war. The sign also said that over 10,000 people had been deported from the area during WW2, not many had returned afterward. (Sadly, this is typical of much of Eastern Europe.) During the war over 1 million Jews were murdered in what is now Ukraine.

From there I started walking back toward the train station. Along the way I went through a park and saw another statue. I think this one was of Shevchenko, the Ukrainian poet. For a reason I don't know, there were also statues of bears in this park. Weird.

The train back to Lviv departed on time, and three hours later it arrived. I was cold and uncomfortable the whole time, there were no heaters on this train. Argh.

After returning to Lviv I walked across the city to dinner. Along the way I picked up goods from a bakery I hadn't visited before, and ate some before getting to dinner. They were good, and I really ought to stop eating dessert before dinner. Ooops.

I slept well in my flat that night.

The next morning I woke up and actually got moving earlier than normal. I'd arranged for checking out at noon, but I wanted to go for a walk before then. When I got outside I realized it was colder than I'd expected, and it was really windy. Really really windy. The clouds above the city were rolling by quickly.

I walked to the square around City Hall, enjoying the lack of people. I saw a couple lions (one of the symbols of the city,) in one area, each had been covered with locks. I suppose this is the local version of locks of love.

Even though I've done it before, I decided to climb up the tower of City Hall again. The entry fee is only 20 griven, so less than $1. You get to climb plenty of stairs to get up there, it's a workout. As soon as I walked out the door my hair felt like it would be ripped off my head it was so windy. From the top there are great views over the entire city. Beautiful.

I came back down all the stairs, and walked toward my next destination. picking up breakfast along the way. Two filled croissants, yum. I ate them as I walked, I'm never very good at holding onto food.

My next sight was another place I've seen before. This was the National Museum and Memorial to the Victims of Occupational Regimes Prison at Lonsky.

It was originally a prison, and was used as a prison by several different governmental organizations of the Polish, Nazis, and Soviets. It was last used by the NKVD as a prison and torture facility. When they left in the early 90s the building was left as is. Nothing has been changed since, except to arrange specific exhibits.

It's an intense place to visit, especially knowing the history of what happened. Out in the yard is where mass executions took place on six days of June in 1941.

Along the main wall is a temporary exhibition of sorts. There are photos of several Ukrainian Orthodox churches in Canada, originally built when Ukrainians fled the country.

Many of those churches have since been abandoned, but they're still photogenic.

I wandered through and took in the information, then left. While I was wandering I avoided the tour group of Ukrainian soldiers.

After the museum I tried my luck at entering a couple churches in the city. Lviv has so many, and it seems like they're all quite beautiful. Not surprisingly, many of them are full of people in services on Sunday morning.

I went back to the flat and checked out. That meant I had to carry my backpack with me for the rest of the day. Not fun, but not too bad. I can't wait till summer when clothes take less space.

My next stop was a museum I'd never seen before. It was a branch of the Lviv Historical Museum, also on the old town square. The specific displays were all about Ukrainian culture and history in this specific area.

This particular branch of the museum was on several levels of the building, with three or four rooms on each level. I went through all the rooms, I really liked the money display. It seems I have a knack for noticing docents while they're at their best, I saw one dozing off.

After leaving the museum I went back to churches, they're such an important part of the city. Even though I'm not a fan of worshipping in churches with complicated decorations, I do appreciate the art and thought put into the decoration.

After several churches I went to another branch of the Lviv Historical Museum. This one was on the other side of the old city square. This one had a photo fee, which I generally hate but paid anywho. Why aren't these extra fees just put in the ticket price? It's not as if anything is that expensive.

I really liked this museum, as it had a few rooms arranged as they might've been during the lives of various people. They were fancy rooms, of course. Beautiful. I also liked seeing the fancy jewelry that used to be owned by rich folks.

When I was back out on the streets and walking along the area in front of the opera house I noticed one street had been blocked off to cars.

It was jam packed with people, all of whom were processing along. I figured out it was a religious procession, but that's all I could figure out. There was no holiday, so I really don't know what it was. There were a LOT of people crammed into the area that was blocked off.

I changed my route and continued walking to a place I'd never seen before. A large park on one edge of the city. I've seen it on maps before, but never remembered to come out and explore it. It's called Stryski (sp?) park and is mostly woods and trails. I loved walking through, even though there wasn't much green to be seen. In one area of the park I saw a couple university buildings, but I didn't know what they were for specifically.

I also saw a couple empty fountains and abandoned buildings.

I finally saw the giant WW2 memorial I'm used to seeing in every Ukrainian city and town. How had I not seen this before? It was as big as I expected.

Back in the city I went to the same restaurant as the night before (remember what I've said before about eating the same food again if I like it) and enjoyed my meal. I killed time there for a while, then went back to the train station and caught my train back to Kyiv.

Another successful weekend in a city I love.

lesotho: maseru and thaba bosiu

Maseru is the capital of Lesotho. Despite getting a ride from the family I met part of the way, it still took me a good part of the day to get to Maseru.

The family dropped me off in Butha Buthe, where I found the local taxi rank and climbed in the next taxi to go. I only had to wait an hour, which was nice.

Though I only had to wait an hour for the taxi to start moving, it felt as though we stopped every ten seconds or so to pick up more people, or drop someone off. A few times I was convinced it would be faster for me to get out and walk. The driver honked at every pedestrian he saw, slowing down plenty of times in case they wanted a ride. Since I just wanted to move, I was frustrated.

After a while I was told I needed to switch vehicles, and this next one would take me to Maseru. Since I had no idea where I was, or where this first taxi would continue on to, I did what I was told.

Eventually, I got to Maseru. It took a while, but I was there, yay!

My lonely planet guidebook had a basic map of Maseru, and there were a couple places noted for accomodation. Since I had no service on my phone, I was dependent on this map. I should've bought a SIM card a couple days earlier, when I first entered the country.

After figuring out how to get out of the bus station, I started walking. Getting out of this area took me a while, as the map was only basic, and didn't show all the small alleys and stores and such. I walked back and forth over the same area a few times to figure it out.

I walked to the first accomodation mentioned. At least, that is where I thought I was going. Only, I never found what I was looking for. I kept walking, in case it was further along the street. I walked for quite a while, but didn't see any buildings, let along a hotel/hostel.

So I looked up the next place listed. Go figure, it wasn't anywhere else. I wasn't thrilled about more walking, since I was carrying my pack, but I had no other options. Argh. I thought I followed the map in the book, but somehow got turned around. Eventually I ended up on the main street of the city, though not in the way I intended.

I walked and walked and walked. I thought I was following the map, but there were no street signs, so i didn't really have any idea where I was. What kind of capital city doesnt have street signs in the city center??? Let me tell you: the capital city of a country with very little infrastructure.

At one point I decided to buy a local SIM card for my phone. I figured if nothing else, I could at least figure out where I was, and if the accomodation I was heading for actually existed. I bought the SIM card, and put some money on it. I used the credit to buy data, and immediately felt better when I opened google maps and saw the little blue dot and street names.

I found my way to the place I wanted, and was able to book a room for two nights. I think the lady was quite surprised to see me out of the blue, as it was not in the city center. I sat around for a little while, enjoying how good it felt to take off my pack.

Eventually I went back out, walking down the hill and back toward the city center. I wanted to go into the information center, but that was closed already. It was only 1600! Argh. Another example of the lack of tourist infrastructure in this country.

I kept walking back along the main street, and eventually came to the supermarket I'd seen when going the other way with my pack. I wandered through there, comparing prices to what I'd seen in South Africa. I already knew that I could use rand and maloti interchangeably in this country, which was a relief.

I kept going on the street, passing a war memorial. As with the memorials I'd seen in South Africa, it was mostly focused on WW1. I'm not sure why, but there was a crocodile (not real,) on top of the memorial. I walked almost all the way back to the bus station where I'd arrived in the city. Since I knew where I was, I wasn't so afraid to continue walking.

I ended up finding dinner at a food court of sorts. Thank goodness I found the area, as there didn't seem to be anything in the way of cafes or restaurans as I know them. The guidebook didn't have anything to offer either.

That night I was happy to discover the heating pad on the bed. Maseru is lower than Oxbow or Mokhotlong, but it wasn't very warm.

The next morning I got to have another hot breakfast, and this one more than made up for the crappy one I'd had in Mokhotlong. Fried eggs, a chicken patty, beans, tomatoes, yogurt, tea, cereal, fruit, toast, and oatmeal. I was happy.

The lady running the place was able to arrange a taxi ride for me to get to the one place I wanted to see. It was a more than reasonable price as far as I could tell. The driver picked me up an hour later.

The driver took me to Thaba Bosiu, a place of honour and respect for the Basotho people. The drive was around 45 minutes, I think, though I didn't pay that much attention.

Thaba Bosiu is where the Basotho Kingdom was founded, where the first king lived on top of the mountain, defending and growing his kingdom.

The driver first took me to a church across the street from the mountain. My driver asked the caretaker, who gave me the background of the church: it was in the same spot as the first evangelical church in the country, founded in 1833. This church was simple, with a beautiful stained glass window at the back.

Next we went to the visitors center of Thaba Bosiu. The guide working there wanted me to wait until 1400 for a tour, an idea that didn't thrill me since it was only 1145 at the time. I said that wasn't going to happen, since I didnt have anything to do during the time in between. I didnt want to drive back to Maseru, then come out again.

In the end, the guide took me and my driver, and we started walking. The guide told me the stories and legends of the mountain, and pointed out different historically important areas on the top of the mountain. It's not a tall mountain by anyone's standards, but it's not a slow mosey to get to the top either. My driver was huffing and puffing more than I was, hee hee.

One of the places the guide pointed out was a pile of rocks, and he had me add another rock. He said this was where visitors back in the day would've left their weapons. It was a sign of respect to come unarmed when visiting the leader of a kingdom. It was also demanded by the hosts, to keep their leader safe.

Another place pointed out was the cemetery of the royal family. I could see the tombs of King Moshoeshoe 1^st, and King Moshoeshoe 2^nd. As each was buried in the custom of the time, the second tomb is a lot bigger and more noticeable than the first.

I got to see reproductions of the house where the first king lived, and where his second wife (his favourite,) lived. Not all the wives of the king (there were 140, give or take!!) lived on the mountain, and not all of those relationships were even consummated.

Marrying the king was a way of bringing more land to the kingdom, and nearly all the people of Lesotho consider themselves to be descendents of the first king.

The guide showed me where Parliament met, and told me all the representatives were men. Cue the sexist jokes. I reminded him there would be no men without women.

Off one side of the mountain I could see another hill, in the shape of the traditional "Basotho hat." The guide pointed it out to me, and had me take one of those posed photos where it kinda looks like you're holding onto something big. It kinda looked like I was picking up the top of the 'hat.'

It was easy to see why the king chose the top of this mountain as the seat of his kingdom, as there are views over the entire surrounding area. It was very difficult for anyone to put together a surprise attack. That being said, there are legends in the kingdom about attackers coming at night and being repelled by something sortof like magic.

Afterward, my driver took me back to my room, and dropped me off. I picked up some mail I'd been carrying around, and walked to the post office. It took me a while to find the right counter, but it ended up being quite cheap. Yay!!

After the post office, I walked to the one sight of the town: a Roman Catholic church. As far as I could tell, this was the only official sight in town, it's hard to miss. I walked in, and sat for a few minutes. Sooo much quieter than the chaos outside.

My next stop was another supermarket. They didnt have any food I wanted, but I ended up buying three bottles of glycerine because they were 100mL bottles, which are perfect for traveling. When I got back to my room, I emptied them out, and instead filled them with lotion, so I no longer had to carry around a big bottle.

The next morning I had another giant breakfast before packing up. I walked down the hill, and followed the main street to the border, which wasn't all that far away.

This visit to Lesotho was far too short. I want to come back with a rental car, and more time. I want to see more of the natural beauty of the country, and learn more of the culture.