Welcome to Crimea!

Where the hell is Crimea?

I like to explain it as: Crimea is the peninsula that dangles off the bottom of Ukraine. Take a look at a map of Crimea here. It dips quite nicely into the lovely Black Sea, across which, if you squint your eyes, you imagine you can see Turkey.

Crimea is an autonomous republic of Ukraine. This didn't really mean much to me. There are certain other things that define its difference to Ukraine more pointedly, to me, anyway...

Firstly, the Crimean Peninsula was historically occupied by Greeks, Genoans and Crimean Tatars, to name a few. As a result, there are some amazing ruins and architectural sights around the place.

The Crimean Tatars took over rule of Crimea from the Mongols (yes, Genghis's troupe really did get this far!) and ruled for around 300 years. They are a turkic speaking people, and indeed the name Crimea is derived from a turkic word, qimirm (imagine the 'i's without dots).

After Crimea was annexed by the Russian Empire under Catherine the Great, Crimean Tatars were persecuted and so fled the region, mostly to Turkey. Those who stayed were deported en masse by Stalin after World War II: on 18 May 1944, all the Crimean Tatars in Crimea were sent to other regions in the Soviet Union - mostly Uzbekistan. The area was resettled by Russians.

It was only in the late 1990s the Ukrainian Government started issuing Ukrainian passports to the Crimean Tatars to allow them to return to their traditional homeland. Crimean Tatars have a distinct language, culture (there is even a 'Crimea' TV channel, which plays talent shows etc), cuisine (although influenced heavily by Uzbek and Turkish) and religion (Crimean Tatars are mostly Muslim).

The second reason Crimea feels so totally different is because of it's long history as part of Russia. Catherine the Great annexed Crimea for the Russian Empire in the 18th century.

Crimea was where the Russian Empire's, then the Soviet's, navy fleet was moored. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Russia negotiated a long term lease of the mooring areas in Sevastopol from the Ukrainian government. There are lots and lots and lots of military people walking around town, and Russian flags all over the place.

Because of this, and a myriad of other reasons, I'm sure, Crimea feels totally Russian.

So, for me, learning Russian in a town where all the signs are Ukrainian, Crimea felt like a lingo utopia (is that a lootopia?). Little things started to fall into place - I learned how everyday places like Produkti and Rinok are spelt, I could understand some of the signs, and I didn't get confused by the occasional person answering me back in Ukie.

My visit to Crimea took me to a number of different places:

• Sevastopol. Was a closed city until 1996 or thereabouts (so if you have an old Atlas, you'll be looking and looking for it). Very beautiful city. Where the Russian Black Sea Fleet is moored
• Khersones. About 5 kms from Sevastopol. A 1,500 acre site containing ruins of the Greek colony of Chersones, which was founded in the 6th century BC
• Bakhchisarai. Where the family who ruled Crimea lived. I think. Amazingly cute little palace there, as well as an Orthodox cave monastery, and some troglodyte caves
  
• Balaklava, where the British Army fought the Russian Army during the Crimean War. (Yes, that's what balaclavas are named after...) Where the valley of the Charge of the Light Brigade is located
  
• Alupka. A lovely sea-side village with a park and a Khan's palace
• Yalta. Former Soviet resort town, which the guide books claim is a but yukky, but I thought it was nice. So there you go.
  

Well, this post is a bit of a link-fest, so I'd better give you some photos to reward you for your patience.

A rainy day at Sevastopol

Soldiers admiring the ruins at Khersones

Babushka and dyevushka selling Khan's clothes at Bakhchisarai

Daisies in the park at Alupka

Old Soviet sanatoriums from the boat to Yalta

Alupka and the Khan's palace from the boat to Yalta

They said there were steppes out here somewhere...

But all I could see what flat land, as far as they eye can see...


With the occasional dug up paddock (yes, folks, that's the technical name)...


And every now and then, a few pretty poplars and other trees (oak? willow? If it's not a eucalypt, I can't vouch for it) on the horizon...


A canola field here and there. We were assured they weren't GM crops...


More canola fields, and very dark and dreary skies...


There were even a few lurkers on the side of the road. After all, if you ask a Ukrainian where the toilet is, their response is, "Everywhere!"


Still no damn steppes! After ten hours of driving, I thought I would have seen one or two...


But mostly just saw abandonned buildings and factories...


And lots of flat land...


I'm steppe-ing into the twilight zone...


Tune in tomorrow to see where Little Miss Moi ended up after this long day on the road that was supposed to have steppes, but only had flat land.

Where do YOU think Little Miss Moi is?

I'll be back soon! Like, in two days :o(

Photos from the road

Here are some photos from the trip for your eyeballs' pleasure.

Brisbane Water, Central Coast, NSW

The parental home, Brisbane, Queensland

Australia's most easterly mainland point, Byron Bay, NSW

Mountain range near Bellingen, NSW

On the road, Pacific Highway, NSW

National Gallery, London, UK

Punters at Pimlico Markets, London, UK

Australia: the land of the young and free (oh.. wait a sec..)

[Competition alert. Read on...]

Okay so I stole that tagline from the Americans.

But I oh so often have a whinge with my blog friend Sabrina about the trials and tribulations of moving from a Land of Big Shopping Centres and Lots of Other Stuff to a Land of Not Much of Anything, Really.

And, as Murphy himself predicted, now I'm back in Oz, can I think of anything I've been craving to purchase for the past six months? 'Course not.

I have exactly one week left in the Land of Big Shopping Centres and Lots of Other Stuff. And I want my readers to help me find Stuff.

Announcing the inaugural...

Little Miss Moi Scavenger Hunt

To participate, simply leave, in the comments, details of something you want me to find.

I'll then hunt it out, catch it, sedate it and provide a humane piccy before releasing it into the wild (orright that was a joke you RSPCA types).

Nahh, really, I shall actually provide a photo of your request, with a description of how bloody difficult it was to find it.

If I can't find it, then I'll come up with a really good excuse and maybe even send you a prize for being so clever to outsmart moi (note the emphasis on the maybe, as my guess will be that everyone will outsmart me. And I won't be able to afford that many prizes).

There's one rule: You can't send me on a hunt of landmarks you know aren't in Australia (e.g. the White House). I might make up some other rules as I go along.

FAQ

Why a scavenger hunt?
Firstly, I want to prove Australia is the Land of Shopping Centres and Other Stuff. I will repeat the scavenger hunt back in Kyiv, and prove that it's the Land of Not Much of Anything, Really.

This will keep me busy for a few days and be a bit of fun and all.

Shouldn't you be busy going out and seeing people rather than scavenging?
Yes. I should. But I'm not. The Hunt will help tear me away from English speaking telly, which I am really loving at the moment. In a way a girl should never love a telly...

So please tell me to go forage.

That's all the FAQ I can think of.

In other news altogether...

I will disappear this weekend, but you must check in again next week to see photos of my visit to Paradise (where my brother lives). Cream on the travelling cake, people.

The journey 'home'

No, I haven't returned to Ukraine (well, it's technically home).

It's been a long and wiggly road home. Here are some pictures of the journey...

Borispil Airport, Kyiv

Lights of London

Daffodils in Green Park, London

Sunrise from a living room, London

Spring flags are blooming, London

Folks looking at the city, Hampstead Heath

Plane window, Bangkok

'Cuisine' in the air, Bangkok

Broken video screens, Bangkok

Afternoon storm, Gosford

Sydney from Watson's Bay

Happy 75th birthday, Sydney Harbour Bridge

Endless beaches, north coast NSW

Yes, the beaches really do stretch on and on..

Tip for flying...

When the flight attendant offers you a newspaper, perhaps say no. Particularly if you know there was a big plane crash the day before.

Because there's nothing worse than having jiggly nerves anyway, then opening up a screaming tabloid like The Daily Mail to see a photo of a burnt out 737 in vivid colour. And worse is going this when you're sitting on a plane 40,000 feet in the air.

Love yourself. Love your woman more...

Today, much of the FSU celebrates International Women's Day. This day is a holiday to honour the institution that is woo-man, and also saves the men and kids from celebrating mother's day.

IWD is the one day in Ukraine where women can expect to put up their feet, and have everything done for them by the men in their lives. And because men can't multitask, which in this case means keeping a job and treating their woman good, IWD is a public holiday.

Yesterday the streets and underpasses of Kyiv were a-frenzied with flower selling activities; in fact, I saw some old babushkas brining more up from the metro at about 3pm. Offices finished up work for the day at about 4pm, offering employees drinks and food in honour of the fairer sex. By 5pm, there wasn't a woman on the streets who didn't have a bunch of flowers in their hand.

I have also heard it said that IWD is the day that women can expect their men to take the stinky, rotten old Christmas tree out and put it on the dumpster (well, it IS the one day men will do something around the house).

The Ukrainian government declared last Saturday a working day, allowing workers to take the IWD holiday on Thursday, then another holiday on Friday.

As a result, we're de-camping to Britain for a little bit of sanity.

And I got a bit overexcited when I booked my tickets, because I'm managed to book me all the way through to Sydney. This means that I'll be away for three weeks. I need to be at the airport in three hours. And I haven't started to pack.

It also means that, after I depart on Monday, I miss all of Tuesday, arriving in Sydney on Wednesday. Sad really.

So, I promise you dear readers, I shall be writing fairly bland stuff about how excited I am to eat real food, and use real money, and hear real language being spoken. I just may not get around to it every day.

See youse soon,
Little Miss Moi.