🏎️ Racing from lion to lion

I must confess I felt a bit anxious a few days before embarking on this journey. It might've been the usual jitters for such an undertaking, but I didn't recall feeling this last year. In fact, when I heard Ukrainian air raid alarms in some documentaries or news bulletins last week, I tensed up — a reaction I didn't have in Ukraine last time. I suppose the body remembers.

Still, the body also remembers the many great experiences, new friendships, acquired knowledge — and so I was happy to embark on this journey again!

Escaping the Netherlands

Saturday morning 9:00: I woke up, got dressed and started packing the car. This wasn't too hard, because I prepared boxes of items with a 🪄checklist✨.

In fact: I reuse my checklist every trip, including my first to Lviv. It includes the usual things (toothbrush) as well as things I didn't bring this trip — like D&D dice, my tennis racket, and my coffee machine. Indeed, I can proudly declare my coffee machine is of the globetrotting variety; it has served koffie, Kaffee, café and I even believe káva (Czechia) in years past. Anyhow, enough about coffee and checklists.

Around 10:20, I left the house. When I was 15 minutes underway, I suddenly noticed I forgot to inflate my tires! I knew where to go to fix this, but for reasons unbeknownst to me (not enough coffee?) I took many unnecessary detours even though I knew the region.

This early navigational incompetence worried me a little bit. Luckily, after my tires were inflated, my delusional mind settled and my road-trip went according to plan.

Racing in Poland

Driving through Germany was mostly uneventful. Baustelle here, no speed limits there, and many beautiful mountains on the horizon.

Around 17:30, I arrived in Poland. I went for dinner at the nearest gas-station restaurant after crossing the border. "English? No. Deutsch? Bisschen." Okay, auf mein bestenstens deutsch dann... Then I looked at the menu and I saw pierogi (known as varenyky in Ukraine)! I got those with meat (a sort of pulled pork) inside. Simple but quite filling.

At around 20:30, I arrived at the Aviator hotel in Kamień Śląski, which is opposite a race track (the Silesia Ring). Unfortunately it was closed, and so we will never know how my five cylinder diesel car from 2013 ranks against the Formula 1 or what-have-you. I know, it's sad. Some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.

One mystery is solvable, though: why is this hotel themed after airplanes? Well, there's a small airfield (Opole-Kamień) opposite the hotel, a former Luftwaffe military airfield. Indeed, this area (Oppeln) used to be part of the German Empire. It is such a strange realisation that borders have such a dramatic impact. Even this local history just feels foreign.

The next day, I woke up (unintended) around 05:45 with a stiff back. Either I was being cheap when selecting my hotel, or I'm being too fat for the mattress. Or both. Anyhow, no rest for the wicked. After breakfast and reloading stuff into my car, I got underway for the final stretch of my journey.

Pizza cup in Sanok

I've been advised to visit Sanok by my Ukrainian language teacher. Even though the Polish highways are really pleasant to drive, this detour was an absolutely brilliant suggestion — with full credits to my teacher — because (1) Sanok is a new sight to see, and (2) I can enter Ukraine at a lesser-known border crossing with (probably) a small queue.

Driving to Sanok turned out to be its own journey. I don't think I've ever spent so long on the road without using any highway, but I have no regrets. The sights in Central Europe are truly amazing — the sky, the mountains.

Around noon, I arrived in Sanok. I parked the car and went sightseeing in the city center. I really like to find places like this in the Netherlands, but I doubt they exist. The colourful architecture, the hills and heights, the spaciousness — it seems a hard ask in the Netherlands. I have no idea if Sanok is stereotypical or exceptionally beautiful. I just felt like an overenthusiastic puppy there — Hills! Colors! Squares!

All that sightseeing made me hungry, so I ordered something I had never seen before: ciotola, pizza in a cup. Be advised: it's tasty but even less practical than a calzone.

Afterwards, I walked off all the carbs with a bit more sightseeing.

After all this Polish beauty, I was yearning for Ukrainian beauty. I jumped back in the car and drove to the border control, where I arrived around 15:00.

In the lion's den

Last time at the border crossing, I was queuing for an hour and was interrogated by security professionals who worried about my good intentions. That is until they saw my wooden tulips and somehow accepted that my "working in IT" means I get to have crazy hobbies, like learning a foreign language in a country at war.

This time, I had only one car in front of me so there was no queue to speak of. However, that also means you get to have the full attention of the full Polish and Ukrainian staff. And they saw a bearded dude from the Netherlands with a smile, baggy pants, a purple shirt, a lot of piercings, trying to cross the border at a lesser known point. I reckon they'll put me in border control training materials — I must be a profiling nightmare.

Now, I knew border crossing is a process of being forwarded one window at a time: one official is checking identities, another is checking for goods and customs, yet another one from the other country rechecking identities etc. Yet, this time I had to explain my visit in three windows — to three separate officials, as if each official believed I must've been allowed to continue in mistake. At some point the officials even started discussing with the officials from the previous window for clarification.

My explanation is simple: I give the invoice from the UCU, which specifies (in English and Ukrainian) what the summer school in Lviv is about. And then I say (in Ukrainian!) "I'm going to Lviv to study the Ukrainian language". Then they ask a question in Ukrainian, which I don't understand because my listening skills are bad. Luckily, my bad responses reinforce my point.

Eventually, I was trusted enough to let through. The border officials were very kind too — just surprised, I reckon. The whole border crossing ordeal took 26 minutes — very quick indeed!

As flexible as a lion

Driving through Poland was a pleasure, really — many roads are new and well-designed, most drivers follow most rules. Now, I love Ukraine but driving there can be madness.

One moment I was just tailing another car on the opposite side of the road to avoid potholes. The next, I was driving 100 km/h and I was still overtaken by a truck — as we approached a zebra crossing.

At almost no point did I know the appropriate speed limit, so I just tailed someone — until they too started showing racing skills that I lack. Honestly, the average Ukrainian driver would win at the Silesia Ring.

It's not just madness on the road — the sights in Ukraine can be beautiful.

Luckily, once I entered Lviv, I encountered a slowpoke — a red car that was agonisingly slow and constantly overtaken. So, I ended up tailing that one, while swallowing my pride as a driver.

Unpacking in Lviv

Just past 18:00 I arrived at the hotel in Lviv. Last year, I stayed at the dormitories of the UCU (the University providing the Summer School). This year, I wanted to switch things up and reside elsewhere — and I got lucky, thanks to some brilliant sleuthing by my amazing friend Julia.

I unloaded stuff from my car into my room, which took about 5 back-and-forth trips. Tired, but still stuffed from a full breakfast and heavy lunch, I got a salad, coffee and a pistachio-cake from the restaurant downstairs.

Finally

Sitting here, in my hotel room, typing an article I feel no anxiety whatsoever. I only feel anticipatory annoyance at the air raid alert that could be triggered at any moment. That's a familiar feeling.

Monday, we'll get to meet-and-greet everyone and do the entrance exam. I'm looking forward to it already!