Lviv From The Sky

"You have to be nice to me.  I let you stay for free."

"No problem, ma'am!  Its not as if I really slept in the bed...anyway."

She looked at me for a moment, gave me a sly smile and then turned back to the mirror to continue fixing her hair and makeup.  The early morning light was not kind to either of us.  We had drifted off to sleep for barely an hour before she had woken up and announced she had to go home.  I rolled away from the sun's bright rays and wished in vain that I was still dreaming.

Her long, wild blond hair, constant smile and looks were reason enough to like her, but what I will always remember is her confidence and "who-gives-a-shit" attitude.  When we talked of the different countries we had been with in our respective hostels, she spoke of her experiences in the same way that most men brag about their sexual conquests.  There was none of the shame or shy behavior that I had grown used to seeing with many "Eastern" European women.  Indeed when she finished fixing herself, she told me to get up, clean up and get out quick before the owner found out that I was getting free room and board.

It was meant to be...

I strolled the streets alone; reflective and in awe of this strange place that felt as familiar as any part of Western Europe yet still so foreign.  My Polish comrades were gone, and I was not the joking, silly guy that I normally am.  I was a ghost in the city: officially checked out of the hostel books 2 days ago but still drifting about unknown due to my good fortune with the staff.   My train to Romania leaves at 2:30am early tomorrow morning.  There's still a whole day to take in a more serious side of Lviv.

The old Lviv Univerisity's spacious grounds were already behind me.  The Stalin-era monuments and the yellow National Library were overwhelming in their sheer massive size.  It seemed much of the architecture was built on a large scale and Lviv -unlike many other European cities- felt like a place where I could breath.  I continued north on the long Svobodny Avenue and gradually approached the National Opera Theater where a large crowd had gathered.  A steady bass beat pounded from the crowd's center and ululating song floated over their heads.  I was expecting a wild gypsy band or some traditional Ukraine music group.

Nothing of the sort...  As I got closer, I distinguished the rhythmic, "Hey Yu Hey Yu Heeyyy" typical of an American Indian Pow-Wow.  In the middle of the onlookers a group of natives in full headdresses and chaps were pounding on drums and chanting away.  What the hell were they doing in the Ukraine?

Making money for sure.  Their CD's were for sale and the music they made was good.  American Indians would be far more 'exotic' and draw more people in this part of the world than back in the United States were they were from.  I lingered around to listen for a few minutes, but continued on toward to the Old Town to see the more authentically Ukrainian City Hall.  While walking on Rynok Square (Central Square) I experienced a brief flashback as I realized a small alleyway was were the wild Kriyyka Pub was located.  Had it really only been two days since I had meet those crazy Polish guys and finished all those bottles of delicious vodka there?  The door was locked and there was no sign nor board to indicate that this was the site of a trendy Communist-themed bar.  Another ghost in the city.

I entered the City Hall, paid the 5 Hrynia entry and walked down the hallway to the tower stairs.  I joined a line of people who were hobbling up the narrow, rickety wooden staircase that circled around the inside of the tower.  As I ascended, the stairwell became more narrow and vertical and I had to crouch to avoid hitting my head on the low stairs that twisted above me.  It became increasingly hotter, humid and cramped in the narrow tower and I had to stop each time exiting tourists bumped into me as they descended the staircase.  Ms. Retro Hostel Manager had said it had the best view of central Lviv, and I hoped she was right.

I can't argue.  All the events of the past two days came back to me in a rush once I saw Lviv stretch out below me.   I took a deep breath of fresh air and felt grateful that I was not trapped in the cramped tower anymore. I began to circumnavigate the tower slowly while taking pictures: north, east, south, west. 

 I took note of the Gothic and baroque architecture of the buildings and thought how different this was from my previous (stupid) assumptions of a Communist trash heap.  I listened for English, but only the 'shushing' sounds of Slavic languages reached my ears.  Despite being a principle attraction, there were no other Westerners to be found on the top of this scenic tower.  Next summer would be different when the giant Euro 2012 Championship would bring in tourists (and investment) from all parts of Europe.

On top of Lviv City Hall

I waved to a family of Ukrainians (Polish?) for a picture.  They looked bemused and gave me an "OK" as I leaned against the tower.  After they returned the camera, I remained prone and allowed the sun to melt me into a trance.  It was the first moment of relaxation I'd had since saying goodbye to Maria on the train from Krakow.  I try to avoid those nostalgic feelings that occur when one is in a scenic area, but flashbacks came.  The border crossing, the countryside, crazy Polacks, the cemetery and Ms. Retro Manager.  Ukraine is another part of my Slavic memories.   

A bump from a passing tourist broke my nostalgic trance and I blinked in the sun.  Had I fell asleep standing up?  Well, I had only slept about 2 hours.  Although my train to Romania was still 12 hours away, it felt much closer and a wave of sadness passed over me.  I was no longer a wandering ghost in the city.  I filmed the panoramic scenery for posterity then once again entered the dark, hot stairwell that twisted down to Rynok Square.