So, yesterday I set off from Edinburgh at 5am to fly to Warsaw, and from there to take an overnight vip sprinter bus (Klases were great) to Kyiv. I arrived at my hotel for an early check-in and full breakfast at 9am. Then a short refresh and a nap, and my first meeting about a Ukrainian show at 2pm. Now I’m reflecting on the journey in this blog Part 1.
3 months ago I decided to return, if there were any organisation here who would like me to run a producing/UK theatre course. Both the Ukraine Institute and the Ivan Franko Theatre in Kyiv were keen, and as of this morning we have 26 applicants awaiting news as to whether they will join me this weekend. Not quite sure how the selection will happen, but that’s news for another day.
I knew I’d be planning solo this time. The first visit in Feb was steered and supported by the Ukrainian producer Anastasiya Yevchenko who is based in London and Kyiv. The second visit in May was to be part of Kristina Kisielovaite’s inspiring KiFest International Festival of Theatre, where I would be shipped between theatres and meetings. This time the planning and navigating was down to me.
Kyiv is being targeted by the evil empire in a much more concerted fashion, especially this week’s attacks aiming to take out essential bridges across the Dnipro river (which connect me to the Left Bank Theatre I need to get to later this week). The russian invaders are also targeting anything civilian and especially anything cultural as far as I can see. So the stakes of my visit are higher.
I was deeply encouraged when my very helpful insurance company in Liverpool https://worldwidetravelplan.co.uk/ secured a premium cost for me which was higher than Feb & May, but only 70% more. So despite the headline global photos of attacks on Kyiv, they estimated the risk was not even twice as bad as earlier. That gave me comfort.
But even so I was concerned. Suddenly getting an email recommending to take a torniquet pack heightened my awareness. I took a moment to quietly visit two specialist nurse/health experts who live nearby to ask the very basics about using one, and they gave me a couple of other useful ideas to pack. It felt as though it was getting real.
My regret is giving a level of concern and stress to those I love – especially Kath and my two children – by disappearing off into a war zone, albeit a fully functioning capital city. A producer friend sent me a note to check I had done a proper Risk Assessment. With the greatest good intentions, so much is unknown, but I did assure her my hotel had a basement shelter and I’d printed maps of the best local bars which were in basements, and best café’s with lower levels also.
Then I set off. I had lunch in Warsaw with a producing colleague and her husband, and we discussed the russian propaganda machine, but even they talked about Lviv being no longer beautiful after bombing. Yes, like Kyiv, certain buildings have been hit – but I felt I knew that they were both still beautiful cities.
I definitely had a sense that Kyiv would look different. I stepped onto the bus in Warsaw with a sense of trepidation, and then three incidents made me immediately face my fears. First in the middle of the night, in the forest just across the Polish border as we were heading the remaining 600km to Kyiv, there was a massive bang and the van had to pull quickly over. My mind went bang=bomb or something. But it quickly turned out to be a deer who, I suspect fatally, had jumped and hit the van. We carried on.
Second we were suddenly travelling over a massively potholed road after a smooth patch. I immediately thought pothole=crater=mine or something. But then I saw the road surfacing vans parked along the stretch we were travelling, and within a moment we here back on very lovely new road surface. If I’d been on a Scottish road I would never have thought mine, but I was in a heightened state of expectation.
And finally as dawn was breaking I heard this persistent quite high pitched droning noise, and I thought noise=drone=ahhh. But then we passed the truck beside us and I realised that it really needed to go in for a service. The sound faded as we headed on to Kyiv.
My sense of unknowing concern slipped away as we got to the edge of Kyiv and joined the 0730 rush hour traffic. We passed bus stops of people awaiting their start to the week, children being escorted to school, and a park with dogs taking their owners for their morning exercise. The sun was shining. We passed beautiful small churches in all the glorious colours associated with the massive central cathedrals. We wove through the traffic until we were in the central streets with coffee shops dispensing office workers with coffee cups, and offices swallowing workers to start their daily joy on a Monday morning.
After 15 hours, dead on time, the 7 of us adjusted our very comfy reclining seats to the upright, and gathered our bags in the autumn sunshine. I got an Uber within 7 minutes and it whisked me to the hotel where I was settled for breakfast by just after 9am.
As I have written before, my hotel seems to have a large majority of guests who are male, UK/European/American using English as their common language, and looking as though they could make a very scary rugby or (what’s the American game – football) team. Tight t-shirts, tight jeans, an array of tattoos, all 6ft+, and I suspect all engaged in supporting the Ukrainian military push back against the evil invading forces.
There were a few rather well dressed types who looked as though they might be going to a private view or opera. Maybe they are some of the guests/speakers who will be at the International Cultural Diplomacy Forum hosted by the Ukrainian Institute. They’ve kindly invited me to be there tomorrow to listen to many learned discussions. I wonder whether there will be any colleagues from Scotland, or even from down south in England. I will report back.
My Air Raid Alert System is on my phone. I suspect I will need to make use of some of those basement bars, and maybe the basement sauna/steam in our hotel. And then I hope I will hear Mark Hamill’s calming voice when the all clear is sounded saying – May the Force Be With You.
Thank you for following my travels. I will report back on meetings and theatre, and of course my experiences of the invasion of this extraordinary ancient independent country, fighting for its culture and its independence. Slava Ukraini.