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      "body": "Ballbag is a term that was coined back in 2003, primarily referring to a gentleman's dignity. However, the word had accumulated another meaning (by a small portion of people) where I live, which was commonly referring to \"lad\". That was back in 2015. Afterwards, that word took an interesting direction and found itself in a sweet spot between a \"what-on-earth-is-this-guy-doing\", \"this-lad-does-not-think-straight\" and \"this-lad-is-a-really-kind-lad\". Throughout the course of this adventure, the \"ballbag\" term has been altered slightly again. No, actually, it has been perfected. So much, in fact, that it was crystal clear to us. We were true ballbags - very kind and polite chaps, who were looking for an adventure in any place (whether it is for fun or glory), [intentionally] get into trouble and make stupid mistakes (to the point that we collectively feel sorry for ourselves and everyone around us).\n\tOriginally, the trip was supposed to include a visit to South Ossetia and Karabakh but I discovered the will to live and postponed visiting those places until some other time (furthermore, we had very little time to spare and visiting those two places in addition to the ones we'd been to, would have proven to be challenging). And so, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Armenia were on the table. Luckily, we had a local guide in Georgia, who volunteered to travel with us. Let's call my friend, Manuel (I have known him back from the university times). He was not really keen on visiting other two countries with us, so he politely declined the offer. However, my Turkish friend (let's call him Ben) was with me all the way until Armenia, our last destination. We started putting the places down on paper that we wanted to visit in each country and discussing our route - what places we visit first, how long we would stay in every place, how much it would cost us, etc. My heart desired to visit mountains, Ben wanted to see more forests in addition, and Manuel was cool with whatever we decided to do.\n\tI decided to give Manuel one last call before our trip to confirm the route towards mountains from Kutaisi and back. Manuel confessed to us that our route would be long because there was no asphalt road from mountains and back. What that meant was that we had to travel all the way from the mountains back to Kutaisi - that was bad news as that shrinked our possibilities of visiting other places that we originally planned to see. Ah balls. Months upon months worth of planning went all the way from the production cycle into \"what on earth do we do with this now and how?\" We had to improvise quickly and re-map our small adventure. Ballbagging phase number one officially kicked off.\n\n![FirstJoyfulKangaroo-size_restricted.gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmaHfMqUT2MbGNASVB2vL7uVW1nQzf2gGq5WoWANmYvDYY/FirstJoyfulKangaroo-size_restricted.gif)\n\n\tWe had great suggestions for places to see in Azerbaijan too - my other friend suggested us a couple of places to see there and helped us find a car to rent. Armenia was last on our list, so we decided to leave it be there like milk in the fridge - you know that it is there but you're afraid of drinking it now because you're not entirely sure if it went sour. Also, my ex-colleague lived in Yerevan and gave a few tips for places to visit. I jotted her ideas down and let them be there. Clearly, both Ben's and my highlight was Georgia - plus, we had so much more time ahead of us to plan our other two trips anyway, so we were not too worried.\n\tManuel met Ben and me in Kutaisi airport on 26 September 2018. Manuel came there with our car that Ben had the fortune of driving (since he was the only one with the driver license). It was Mistubishi Pajero IO from 2014. Unfortunately, we forgot to ask our car renter what kind of gearbox the car had and to Ben's surprise it was automatic, which he did not have any experience of using. While Manuel and I were exchanging our life stories (we had not met each other for a couple of years), Ben was checking out youtube to see how to use automatic gearbox. That clearly made Manuel raise his eyebrow and question Ben's driving experience. I told Manuel that he had nothing to worry about and that Ben would do just great - he just needed some time to adjust and he would pick up automatic without any problem. I mean, it was a peace of cake after all. After about an hour, we started moving and Ben began his ritual of summoning his inner beast (it was hungry, I could tell) and dedicating 100% of his attention on the road towards Kutaisi, which was our first place to stay in.\n\n![giphy.gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXpUg2b4Z49qktJYrYoYHugHnUYL2Lw6mts1N4Enh6yXd/giphy.gif)\n\nOur place looked pretty authentic in Kutaisi (and no wonder, it was one of the cheapest options to rent) - it was quite an old place that threw me back into the late 80s - right in those times where people had carpets on their walls, old and squeaky wooden floors & furniture. I cannot say that all of us felt like home but we were fine with our choice. Our stomachs directed us to go and find a place to eat out in the town and get some tourist information. You see, we wanted to visit the canyons (Martvili and Okatse) that were close to Kutaisi but we found out that they were closed because of the rainy weather. So we let our stomachs feast upon some kebab, bread and beer. We exchanged some money & enjoyed seeing how locals drove down the roads in the town. Ben was, to say the least, not impressed with their attitude on the road and started wondering together with us when we would crash first & how bad it would get. After walking around, we got back to the car and headed out of the town.\n\tGoogle Maps was our least favourite man on the mission - it very much enjoyed deceiving us by showing weird turns and corners that actually weren't there. We ended up pulling over every ten or so minutes to ask locals for directions. Eventually, Ben had his first taste for curvy and narrow roads towards Sataplia cave & Gelati monastery - both of the places were close to Kutaisi. My friend told me that it was a normal occurrence to see pigs and cows on the roads in Georgia and he was totally right. The more cows and pigs we had seen, the hungrier we were getting, so we made our way back to Kutaisi to get some more food, rest and head onwards the next day.\n\tOn our way back to the guest house, we stopped at the traffic lights (I can still clearly see that night clear in my head) and we continued driving. Ben was still getting used to the automatic gearbox and that was when the car headlights met an innocent-looking elderly lady crossing the street in the middle of the road. In addition to pigs and cows, it was totally normal for pedestrians to jump in the middle of the road and scare the living s**t out of you as well. Ben did not hesitate and switched the gear all the way to \"P\" (parking) and stopped the car. Clearly, he panicked and switched the gears to break (which does not need to be done). Manuel and I were probably envisioning something terrible to happen to that lady right then and there. We released a deep breath and went on driving, complaining about people being so lazy to get to a zebra crossing. Unacceptable.\n\tWe found a parking spot, pulled over, and a smell travelled right into our nostrils. This was the smell of something burnt and got us thinking...\n\n![tenor.gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmNz1G9LZT3rNA59FygsVPWutiWEhbHqkXyWtzKYVAXu2f/tenor.gif)\n\t\nUpon a closer inspection and some sniffing around, we found out that the smell was coming from the wheels. Clearly, those were the breaks.\n\n![giphy (1).gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmTgY8Ya6Px8ZMBu5js1BKntvk4usE17a5emCpwLbYnsz6/giphy%20(1).gif)\n\nGreat, now we had a car with broken pads on the first day of travelling. The owners of the car were 200 km away from us in Tblisi and we had limited amount of time to deal with that issue (we barely had time to find places to eat out in). To fight with our stress and suppressed bouts of anger, we decided to go out and eat something local fatty foods and drown our sorrow with beer. Obviously, Manuel was far north from \"OK\" and was grim about me not telling him in advance that Ben did not have enough experience to conquer them mountain roads. The only thing on Ben's mind was long face of Manuel and big calculator (in his mind) that was summing up the expenses  to fix the breaks. Everyone's concern was the time, of which we had very little.\n\tThe atmosphere during our dinner was tense, to say the least, so we headed home with full stomachs and empty heads, still questioning what was real and what was not. While I was telling Manuel not to call the owners of the car to tell what had happened and convincing him to go on driving (because Ben said that the breaks just became \"softer\" and not broken), Ben gave us the best news of the day: \"hey guys, so my friend has just told me that the breaking pads should be totally fine. If we did destroy the breaking pads, we would not be able to use the automatic gearbox. So we should be all good!”\n\n![tenor (1).gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmP2UmQw6J8FyjoHucGEZa7qnJ2gia2AmznsiJbD5sg66P/tenor%20(1).gif)\n\nF***ing amateurs. \n\nThat was a weight off of our minds - we later found out that replacing the breaking pads was an enormous amount of work for a car repairman - he had to disassemble the whole gearbox (which would take him one hour and more), get the breaking pads (I bet they had to match our car’s breaking pads), it would cost us a lot (because insurance did not cover them), we definitely then had to ring up the owner’s of the car about it, etc. The whole process did not sound as great as eating khachapuri - so we were glad about the fact that the car was in order. We agreed to keep a close eye and strong nose on the car wheels over the next coming days before we entered the mountain roads.\n\tNext morning began with smelling the breaking pads, which still had the scent of panicked driving from the day before. We continued to drive and agreed that if the breaks were to really affect our driving that we would give the car back to the owners. We visited Bagrati cathedral in Kutaisi to enjoy the panorama view on the town and headed towards Prometheus caves. Manuel said that it would be exciting. The cave was close to Kutaisi. We took the tour guide through the cave and a short boat ride as well. It took us about an hour to go through the cave and the view was mesmerising. I heard that it took about 100 years for the crystals to form by a centimetre. Some halls in the cave were used for weddings as well. Just look at this:\n\n![IMG_2043.JPG](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmVvLVs6ahVECDkz2xffE89jNL3yt3A9CEQ9ooQ6VjmePv/IMG_2043.JPG)\n\n![IMG_2054.JPG](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmfMzjfopnhgbmTPBVcEA8smsGevGYSmWCvNpqY6okAXiM/IMG_2054.JPG)\n\n![IMG_2047.JPG](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmdvPWHAeL42tr62ruW5NUsD6rbeF5RPwTBEoenkZb5qpd/IMG_2047.JPG)\n\nAfter feeding upon some cave air, we headed back to the car and moved direction Mestia to look at the mountains, more sheep and cows. \n\n![tenor (2).gif](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmaya79ypw53rWJeJuiu6gnWaFLwgN5DJeDYWfenXfRt7G/tenor%20(2).gif)",
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      "body": "I wake up to the bright sun rays and catch the chill of the wind that creeped in through the doorway. I must have dropped onto my bed after the vassals’ visit. I get a happy rush streaming down my throat after recalling early morning's visit and spring up from the bed to put on my robes. I look at the window and extend my hand towards the sun to see how much time I have left till the sundown. It seems to be the midday - good time to visit Frank once again before I hear what the king has to say. I sense an adventure down the road but peril crippling alongside it and I cannot put it together to understand which thrills me the most. On a bright side, the old man may shed a light on this sudden visit from the king’s servants as he tends to have ears on the back of everyone’s head. Although, I am not sure why he did not speak of this yesterday as he usually is the first one to know everything that happens within and outside of the kingdom.\nLeaving the armour behind me, I pour myself a lukewarm water into the goblet and start hungrily sipping on it. I cannot gather my spirit not to rush to hear what Frank knows about tomorrow. It has been a long time since my last service done for the king and my muscles have been growing weary and strength leaving has slowly left from my body. No matter how much I train and how long I carry this armour for, I cannot summon the same courage and passion as I had before. Being a knight is not something that one is born with - you learn and practice to be one and once you have mastered that skill, it will scar you for the rest of your life. Some look at the scar as an old wound and some see it as a gift. The former turns into madmen while the other see their gift fade away over time. The saddest part is that neither of them can live the same way.\nI put the goblet on the side of the table and look around just to see if I need to take anything else with me. I come up to get my pouch of silver coins (to re-pay for some of the Frank's past rounds and also to soothe the old man down into giving me more details on the upcoming event) and fly out through the doorway and out into the forest. Frank's establishment is not located far away from my house and it is on the way to the kingdom as well (which is why I anticipate for the old man to spill the truth and all the rumours he has collected from the visitors all the way from there).\nThe forest has been very quite and I have grown too comfortable with the calmness of it all - so calm, in fact, that it has dumbed my mind.\nThe sun’s rays were slowly being covered by the clouds - I could sense the rain brewing. The time has come for Autumn to colour the trees and soak the ground. Most beautiful time of the year before the cold malice of winter. I can cherish those winter days spent in the kingdom - so warm and hospital it was. The huts, the houses were lit and the fire was constantly dancing outside of everyone’s place. All the kingdom folk made winter the most anticipated and jolliest seasons of all. The streets were always swarming with people, songs, celebrations, festivals and hot wine that could boil the coldest soul of any human. It was mesmerising to live there. My hut, though, cast me into a cold oblivion and made me urge for spring to return. Luckily, Frank always had a brew to warm me up and he would sometimes invite me to stay in the brewery, which was always glowing with warmth and hospitality.\nI approach Frank’s brewery and, to my surprise, I do not hear the crowded noise and goblets smashing against one another in cheering. Only the dimmed lights and the same familiar warmth, crawling from under the door crack, and the smell of glazed chestnuts. I walk up the stairs to open the door and see that the place has only a few people and Frank stand behind the bar stand, preparing another brew. I nod at the visitors and come up to the old man.\n“Top of the day, Frank,” I said. “Surprisingly quite today, is it not?”\n“Yes, it is,” he responded quickly. “I can imagine most of my clients enjoying today without my usual sarcasm and old stories. I bet that they are only waiting for my brew to get stronger to hit their heads quicker and make them drunk. Judging by the amount of brew I have sold over the couple of years, my visitors can easily enter the ranks of Barbarians, I bet that. I certainly do not mind the quite days as I have longed for them already for quite some time. It looks like my brew has had an effect on you too now that you cannot fit into your armour now, haha!”\n“Have you heard of anything that will happen tomorrow?” I interrupted Frank’s laughter.\nFrank stopped rubbing the thick glass, looked at me and put his rug aside. He took a deep breath, as if we would not be able to take another one and put his hands onto the table. Frank stared at the floor for a few moments, lifted his head up and came up to one of the barrels and started pouring the drink. I gathered that the drink was meant to be for me, so I reached out for the silver pouch in my pocket and quietly placed it onto the bar stand. Frank could hear the coins touch his stand faster than they actually did. Once he had the goblet full, he placed it in front of me and pushed the bag of silver towards me.\n“You may need this, boy,” he said in a deep voice.\n“Pardon?” It came as a genuine surprise to me that Frank would not accept the money that I owed him. “This is the money for most of the rounds I had owed you. I am not certain of when I may be back here to drink your brew once again if the king orders us to go on a long journey. Take it now while you can.”\n“You owe me nothing,” he continued. “And I sense nothing benign behind that gathering, in all honesty. The kingdom has been in peace for a long time now and it foresees no further clashes, skirmishes or wars in its path. It has made allies with everyone that it possibly could. If there is any blood to be spilled, that would be way up in the North of this world, which is of no concern to his highness and of no interest to the Barbarians that inhabit those regions.”\nI was not sure what Frank had on his mind or what stories he had gathered from the others who passed by his brewery. He sounded alarmed and worried to me, and looked quite upset that I knew about tomorrow’s event.\n“I gather that the vassals already paid you a visit earlier today. That is unfortunate. No matter how many times I had told them not to venture deeper into the forest, their noses appear to be longer than my stick, which I attempted to scare them off with. They should not have found you.”\n“Why is that, Frank? What are you trying to say?” I took my first sip of his brew, which felt surprisingly more bitter than usual.\n“You better stay where you are, boy, if you want to live.”\n“I swore my life to the king. I owe him everything - what he has done for me, other knights and his people. How can you say that? If my life needs to be sacrificed for the greater good, then it shall be.”\n“This won’t be a worthwhile sacrifice - that you can trust me,” Frank continued sounding unlike himself. “The king cannot continue supporting the lot of you. You are of no purpose to him any longer. He cannot disband you nor can he put you into a civil life any longer. The king once created the purpose of your existence and he is afraid of the consequences that may follow. Run while you can and hide in a new house, while you’re young and have a long life ahead. Your discipline is of my and many other people’s admiration and you have to place it elsewhere while there is time and while you are alive.”\nThe silence stood upon us and I tried deciphering Frank’s riddles one at a time as I could feel that he was hiding something from me or he did not know the whole story and what was about to happen. My hope was growing dim at the same time and I could feel the old man’s concern over my life.\n“The king wishes you nothing good, any longer, my friend. I wish you could stay out of this trouble but I know that you shall not. This is not how you have been brought up and for that, I am glad. You are fearless and are ready to embrace the trouble and look into the mouth of the danger.  But this is not the right time or occasion to do so. Stay out of this if you can. He shall set you on a mission that you shall not come back after alive.”\nThe sense of confusion started growing deeper inside of me and it kept me speechless. Frank could feel it as well but he knew that it would be dishonourable for me not to follow the king’s word and at the same time he had a hope that I would not go. I continued sipping on Frank’s brew and staring at him being puzzled. I was waiting for him to tell me more of what he knew.\n“I am worried about it all, to say the least. Stay out of it if you want to live and if you have something to lose,” he concluded.\nI remained in the brewery until late evening as Frank continued serving me the brew and tried reading one another in complete silence under the dimmed lights. I could sense that Frank knew nothing more of what were to follow tomorrow. He continued persuading me against going there but something kept on telling me that I had to. And, unfortunately, I had nothing else to lose but my word and life to my king.\n![leo-laffont-house-forest-01.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmcmna5Ak6NJqDvvMz5xyZZ9bHmzPUSyBF7qrAz56k78uS/leo-laffont-house-forest-01.jpg)",
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      "body": "Her face was covered with tears. This picture, once mottled with the purest colours of joy, was now reflecting the blurred \"Black Square\" of Malevich. The colours were not running anywhere but rather lay frozen, waiting for another stroke of lump in her throat to scatter the fading tinges of fire in her eyes. Her eyes! It seemed like she was staring into nowhere and at the same time looking for a way out of that tunnel of nothingness in my eyes. Her eyes... I have never seen such iris ever before. I was staring deeper and deeper into them with every passing minute. I wanted to sink into her eyes. I wanted to dive into the majestic ocean of lights and breathe the blissful water into my lungs. Her eyes! Her pupil was encircled with an imperfect shape of what seemed like a saw. Another closer look at her eyes and you would feel like orange-coloured saws started rotating. Faster and faster they were cutting through the flesh and right into the bones, sinking deeper with the needle of her look. All the light in the room was crawling behind the dark diamonds, mesmerized by the deepness and timidity of her look. The amatory, blood-red fire was trying to escape through the corner of her eyes but then found itself paralysed, along with the tears that were waiting to stream down her cheeks...wait. Wait! Concentrate. Only at her eyes. Little Saturn, shaped in a form of a cutting-edge circle blade of her eyes, was sinking deeper into every word, I was trying to speak out, leaving me speechless.\n\tSuddenly the warm stream of tears burned the surface of her crimson blush. Like an arrow it hurried down, slightly touching her cheeks and piercing her soft reddish bow.  I wipe a grey drop of water with my hand to stop the sour bites on her lips.\n\t“Why would you even care?” she tried to say, catching the salty flux of water. \"You have known me for just one day... You will not even remember me after I am gone.\"\n\t“What makes you say that?” I take her hands into mine and clutch them gently. \"I do care about you!\"\n\t“You all say that...” she spits out, shedding yet another tear.\n\t\"Well, I am not them. You do matter to me.\"\n\t\"You have known me for just one bloody day...” she says, her voice calm.\n\t\"So what? I just feel like caring about you! I have seldomly met such people like you. People I would care about! Listen, if I did not care about what is going on in your life, I would just leave you sitting here and not say anything at all.\"\n\tThe serenity started overcoming her. She seemed to start giving up her strength whilst the barrier of defence was disappearing along with her sorrow. She leaned on me, her carbon-black hair piercing my shoulder like poisonous viper’s fangs. I continued to breathe and put my hands behind her back, touching her soft hair, toying with it like a child, while she was still heavily breathing, tears slowly jumping onto my breast. Her hair. The smell of it. The dark and wild valley of tree-tops, reminding me of the freshest and warmest days of midsummer. You would immediately think of a huge square, hung above the quietness of the magic wilderness. Magic… Magic, drunk with the beauty and purity of the waters, flowing along the forest. What a secret it held! The secret never to be revealed to any stranger, not willing to venture to go into the forest and walk until the end. I made my first step and was willing to go until the edge of the earth. I could not stop, wondering what would be on the other side of that mysterious wonderland. It kept pinching me into the back and I could not stop the urge of hugging her even firmer, trying to forget about the itching. I could still feel her breath, warming me from the inside. She raised her head and looked into my eyes as if there were a light at the end of the mirror-tunnel, she had been looking for so long. Her cheeks were still set on fire in the form of orbs, burning crimson-amber, dancing atop her little dimples. Her eyelashes, like a couple of ocean waves, frozen in motion, were hurriedly snapping the maze of a torrent of a bitter transparent sap.\n\t“You will not even be able to understand any of it anyway” she gasped out.\n\t“I certainly will” I said very quietly, as if I were afraid to bother her. I was choosing my words very carefully then.\n\t“How?” She raised her voice. “None of that has even happened to you!”\n\t“What happened?” I was very still. “Let’s start with that point now. What exactly happened to you?”\n\tShe looked aside as if ashamed of my question. She closed her eyes, breathed in and out and turned to me.\n\t“It happened quite some time ago” She was saying, every word sounding the way it was being snatched by the steel jaws. “And…well, he was an artist. A painter. He used to paint a lot. That was the only thing he was doing actually. He cared about nothing else, while I was there for him any time.” She started stumbling even more, fighting against the current of memories hurrying out of her mind. “He would spend hours sitting in front of a canvas, painting it like a little baby. He would not eat for days! Sometimes he even dropped dead onto the ground, scarring me crazily because of the sleep deprivation and I would carry him to bed, where he would sleep for a while. In a couple of hours he would wake up and get back to painting. He told me that he always saw something in his dreams and wanted to put it onto a piece of paper immediately. He even resorted to trying a special technique to paint everything he sees in dreams. He would sit in the chair, holding a spoon in his hand. As soon as he closed his eyes, he would dream until he had eased the grab of the spoon, which wake him up as soon as it hit the ground. He would take his brush and start painting what he dreamt about.”\n![The Black and White Stone.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmSiYXB6MGNSokeQyrzDrUmmM7WsMWUFKSruAPCDVfQTM3/The%20Black%20and%20White%20Stone.jpg)",
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      "body": "“Some people die at 25 and are only buried at 75” - \nBenjamin Franklin\n\nMy American friend, Michael, accompanied me for the trip to “warm places” back in August 2016. I initially was supposed to go there on a business trip in the wake of September but the company I worked for allowed me to run away from \"the sacred beauties\" of the Baltics three weeks prior to the business trip (i.e. instead of purchasing the flight tickets only for the business trip, I booked a ticket to fly over to Ukraine for a vacation first). As Mike had only one week of holidays, he suggested me to visit Odessa, Tiraspol (in Transnistria) and Chisinau (Moldova) together with him. He was really stoked to see Transnistria, while I wanted to enjoy Moldavian wine and see dozens (literally) of my relatives in Ukraine.\n\tI flew with Turkish Airlines (they treat you with good food and smiles) and was chatting with a lovely Estonian girl through the whole trip to Istanbul – she was on the way to her relatives in Georgia. I hope I could go there one day too (boom - already planned this trip for 2018). She was travelling alone though – but her heart was already taken by someone else (awww) so my compliments already started wearing off pretty quickly after that (girls mention their boyfriends out of the blue in the middle of the conversation - or may be it is there strategy) and we just continued talking over \"friendship barricade\". She was an interesting person nonetheless.\n\tI arrived to Istanbul to wait for the connecting flight and had quite some time to waste. So I was walking around in search of the Wi-Fi to entertain myself with memes from 9Gag. All networks were password protected and a local cafe shop wanted me to buy some food/drinks from them if I wanted to connect to their Wi-Fi. That's how you make a business! I then approached a stranger, who was sitting close nearby that same cafe and asked her if she knew the password by any chance. She gladly shared it with me and that stroke a conversation. She was from Sweden (finally it was time to practice my Swedish!), and was going to Africa for a week to give some inspirational speeches to the people in need (she is working for some NGO) for a week or so. By the time we got around to talking about Swedish FinTech, my flight was approaching, so I bade a warm farewell to her.\n\tI arrived to Kiev to get on the bus to Odessa right away. When I got to Odessa, I then took a taxi (I absolutely forgot to bargain with the taxi driver, so I overpaid a few Euros) to get to the hostel to meet up with Mike, who had a flight from Tallinn to Odessa. He although said that he was deeply unimpressed by the Ukrainian airport. We were hanging out with his two other female friends around the city for the next couple of days (I assure you that it was a pure coincidence that we were mingling so much with the girls on the trip), eating, drinking, staying at the beach - having fun, basically. Odessa felt like sauna packed with oceans of shops in August – it felt like every second person living there felt that it was time to do some business and sell something.\n\tUkrainians are very honest people, I can tell you that. If a girl does not want to dance with you, she will say “no” before you take another breath. If they like you – you will know. Easiest “women manual” I have ever come across thus far. It is quite easy to strike a conversation with them and chat away but I barely met anyone who would speak English there and if you ever go to Ukraine, it is a good idea to arm yourself with a local or Russian speaker (otherwise, you may be ripped off when buying something - obviously, not in the stores - or get lost in the city).\n\tAfter a couple of days in Odessa, midnight \"English breakfast\" from a local restaurant close to our hotel and late night beach parties, we were finally ready to set off to another location. We got on an intercity bus – this was when Mike and I felt that real adventure was about to come – we were on our way to Tiraspol from Odessa. Not even joking – it was a regular intercity bus about to cross borders in an hour or two! Nevertheless, Prendnistrovje (a.k.a. Transnistria) is an unrecognised country within Moldova. As they wanted to be a part of neither Ukraine nor Moldova, they had remained that way for over 20 years. However, they still want to be a part of Russia (more than a half of people living there hold a Russian passport).\n\tApparently, anyone can visit Transnistria for up to 24 hours (on the border, a chap with “KGB” sticker on his shirt will ask you the purpose of your visit, your occupation, address you are staying at and give you a migration card - as far as I can recall, they do not stamp your passport at all). If you leave the border later than 24 hours, you will be fined. If you want to stay longer (which I believe you can up to anywhere between 1-3 months, depending on  your citizenship), you need to ask the host to extend your visit for acceptable X amount of time with the help of local “KGB” or superman, whoever they have there. On another note, definitely make sure you get yourself a Russian speaker as barely anyone speaks English there.\n\tWe rented an apartment in Tiraspol through booking.com and our host, Eugene, gave us a tour around the town. He told us about the organisation, called “Sheriff” – known by all people in Transnistria. They had their gas stations, infrastructure, football club – basically, they were a huge monopoly in the country. Despite that, people still appreciated “Sheriff” and what they had done for the country.\n\tTiraspol looked like a frozen city – it felt like it time-travelled back to Soviet Union and was looking up to Russia (still) for a better future. Locals seemed to be fine with that. For Mike and me the trip was a totally new experience. But the highlight of the trip there was seeing plastic Transnistrian coins – I would not be surprised if people played poker with that money (they do look like poker chips) and the nightlife. We went out to a local club and met quite a few folks who had travelled through Europe, Asia and heaps of different countries but came back either because of their families or of something that did not work out for them there. The locals were distantly friendly to us but even Mike could not impress them with the fact that he came all the way from the US to Tiraspol (apparently, the locals had travelled quite extensively!) and the fact that I was from Ukraine, living abroad, raised no eyebrows either. What the locals were, however, impressed by was Mike's Russian (as it was pretty good at the time) and our \"afterparty\" was basically others teaching him all sort of expressions in Russian.\n\tAfter our active one-day trip in Tiraspol and breathing in the spirit of \"I-want-to-be-in-Russia-someday\", it was time to move on. We boarded the bus to Moldova. That was when where proper Turkish sauna began – starting in Chisinau. Bear in mind I was already sweating the whole 4 days before arriving to Chisinau but there I felt that my forehead was like a lamp and I was so desperate to summon a genie that I kept on rubbing it (from the sweat) every two minutes. So hot it was there – above 30 degrees, in fact.\n\tWhat was interesting about Chisianu was that half of the city looked modern (somewhat close to your \"regular Baltic capital\") and the other half was swarming with street markets and cheap prices like in a small town. We met up with two locals there (through Couchsurfing) and went to a place to eat. The food I ate was so rich in taste and every piece of that beautifully executed chicken in the soup (zjama), mamaliga and plăcintă made me feel closer to Jesus (not that I was dying or anything). When they asked me if I preferred Moldavian women to food, I could not talk – my mouth was full all the time. And home-made wine was something out of the barrel (literally)! It felt so light, tasty and bittersweet. I would not be able to drink any other wine any more but Moldavian (may be Georgia will change my mind this year).\n\tI also got a tip from one of the locals - if you ever want to see Moldova, rent a car (€ 15 per day) and go around the North of the country. Locals say it is worth it, if you want to see what Moldova really is made of. Eat here as much as you can as well and go wild on grapes too!\n\tAfter a few days, Mike headed to Bucharest, to see some more Roma folks and I got on the bus back to Ukraine (it was a sweaty and humiliating bus trip for me) to visit my relatives. I travelled around some more Ukrainian cities and then went to the village close to Kremenchug where my relatives lived. I sadly could not learn how to ride a motorcycle or fish with a bamboo fishing rod just like in good old times (the motorcycle was broken and my uncle did not have time to fix it, sadly, and fish in the lakes were a size of a quarter and the owners of those lakes were greedy bastards, who charged you unreasonable prices to go and fish there). My uncle often dreamt of fishing like in good old times too, he confessed. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant stay with my relatives for a week before taking off to the business trip in the town nearby. \n\tCherkasy. Spelled with one “s” as I learned when I entered the office the first day. I had side-by-sides with the IT dudes – I showed them what I did in another office and talked more about products that I worked with and they showed me their witchcraft. Some of the things on their screens looked really scary – almost enough to summon the Satan himself, it felt like. Cherkasy was a small but cute town. If you have work and family or bunch of friends there – it was alright. The place was really small and stagnant though. Folks were at a loss of suggesting what I could see here after recommending me to visit a park and a monument, close to the beach. Conclusion – fine with beer for a day or two there!\n\tI had passed Kiev it by so many times but never had a chance to walk about and explore that magnificent city. I am so glad that I had done that on that trip. It was miraculous at night time and there were more pretty women – I do recommend you to spend at least a week here. There is a ton of places to visit and things to do. Although, bear in mind that getting somewhere for an hour within the city is considered normal. Chatting up with someone out of the blue is considered sane though (unlike in Baltics and Scandinavia) and I had missed that so much – you can start a chat with literally anyone in Kiev and people were always glad to help out. Kiev ticked in all the boxes for me and I cannot wait to come there again to stay longer.\n\nTo be honest with you – that trip woke me up and pushed me out of my comfort zone quite a bit and I had been craving to see more places after that. Getting out of your comfort zone is always the way to go! Staying at hotels, getting a tour guide and all the other trivial and typical tourist crap – do you really need it? Use Couchsurfing to meet up with new people or ask your friends around for some more friends who live in the place you are planning to visit. Easy trip is never a fun and educating one. Yes, there were a few hoops and uncomfortable travels (like me sweating the whole bus trip back to Ukraine) and so forth but I broke shackles of comfort and “a new little me” was born at that time – I noticed that I changed and that was the change I anticipated to experience the most. I learned new things, talked to new people, tried different food and drinks – I felt alive. There were hoops and ladders to cross and climb and challenges to face but by the end of the day I still could feel the bitter-sweet taste of this trip in my mouth. After the cup of tea, of course. No sugar.\n![kiev-wallpapers-28668-1828664.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmVyDiX7DuRvVSshXfas2oFT1kN1dwQYuis9s64QWfL67A/kiev-wallpapers-28668-1828664.jpg)",
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      "permlink": "bittersweet-a-trip",
      "title": "Bittersweet (a trip)"
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