What did you say your name was?

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One day before Halloween we came to Yalta.  Yalta.  Isn't that some kind of malty yogurt drink?  Where is the Crimea anyway?  Needless to say we did not find a Halloween party, and too bad to because we had a great line-up in mind using our foamees to create Halloween costume madness, robots and crayons?  Instead we drank sparkling wine from the area, ate mushroom crepes and made plans to ensure that Lacey would celebrate a Halloween somewhere where costumes and drinking and people drinking in costumes is the norm.  Yalta is a beach resort, though there isn't a grain of sand for hundreds of kms.  But I hear that the Soviet's like to tan standing up, so I supposed the pebbles were of little consequence.  The boardwalks along the sea are wide and are lined with new shops and glass fronted restaurants and the occasional palm tree.  At one end of the beach there is a very large and very ugly Viking ship up on stilts that is more of a casino that a direct threat of invasion and on the other end there is a McDonald's and amusement park rides.  The air is slightly humid, even in Oct and in 10 years the place will be a skyline of hotels and new money.

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The Crimea itself is more beautiful than I imagined: huge headlands force the hwys up high and away from the towns and driving along them you get incredible vistas of blue water and steep rocks faces.  Everywhere fall colours tint the landscape that cascades down steep limestone eventually falling to either pebble beaches or an endless sea.  Few places are steeped in such history, even Homer spoke of the deep water harbours and after our travels it feels western and welcoming.

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Later in Yalta we take a tour boat with a bunch or relaxed CIS tourists out to see Swallow's Nest one of the famous landmarks high up on the cliffs above the sea.  It is a tiny castle built by a German oil baron for his mistress.  It was barely used, either because she didn't think that the puny castle was compensation enough for him not leaving his wife, or because it fell apart...today it houses a bad  Italian restaurant.  But the views are spectacular and it has cheap beer and salted fish all at reasonable prices and people watching Ukrainian tourists is far more fun that the attraction itself.  We also visited Livida Palace, built originally for the last Russian Tsar it is more famous for it being the site of the WWII conference between Stalin, Churchill and Rosevelt.  It was here on a sunny winter day in 1945 that the Big Three created the 20th century map; sold Eastern Europe to the Soviets and plunged the world into the Cold War.  The place is so perfect and peaceful, set high up, its vantage point so serene that it is little wonder one could forget the world and sign a document with such severe consequences.  A few months later the war was over, Roselvelt was dead and the world was destined to be a much different place.  Plus imagine the awkward photo shoot...on a bench in the sunny courtyard, the three of them trying to look comfortable sitting beside each other.

The next day we took a twisted and stomach churning ride back to Sevasterpol to fly to Lviv.  We ate in the best airport restaurant in the world: it had lime green carpet not  only on the floor, but on the walls and pillars as well.  There were huge chandeliers and mirrors and seafoam green paint on the ceiling.  The beer cost 75 cents.  The women working there may have had nicer shoes, but nothing much else had changed in 15 years including the menu and the prices.  The airport control tower was in a colonial house, the only flight was to Kiev and there were sheep on the front lawn.  We had beer from a vending machine in the baggage room at the airport in Kiev, imagine if you could have a beer while waiting for your skis at YVR?  We sipped them in the Hall of Expectations...whatever that means and then the check-in dude asked in English if we would like the emergency exit row.

We were picked up from the airport by the owner of the apt we were renting.  It was All Saints Day where every grave in the whole country has a candle placed on it.  We went to one of the largest cemetaries in the city and the entire place was enveloped in a warm red glow.  I had forgotten the simple beauty of it and the warm and almost hallowed feel a graveyard can have even on a cold fall night.