Our last night out in Odesa, a Tuesday, was the quietest yet – though for Peder it was his favorite. Personally I didn’t have quite as much fun, but that was mainly due to yet another encounter with some very “dubious characters.”
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Challenge #1: Find our way to the catacombs.
Challenge #2: Buy a ticket and go inside.
…Huh?
Although we arrived an hour before the catacombs were scheduled to close, they already seemed to be completely abandoned: the entrances were padlocked shut, and the only person in sight was an old woman in a small souvenir stand who didn’t understand even one word of English. We tried our best to communicate that we wanted to go inside, she listened for a minute, picked up her phone, made a call, and seemed to indicate that we should wait. But fifteen minutes later nobody had come. She was still sitting idly in her shop, and all the doors to the tunnels – now officially closing in 45 minutes – remained locked.
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You may’ve noticed that unlike the first half of my trip, since meeting up with Peder I haven’t complained even once about the weather. That’s because, just as I expected, since he came along and brought his seemingly endless good luck with him, we’ve scarcely seen a cloud in the sky. It’s been blisteringly hot but gorgeous, which has given the second half of the trip such an indescribably different vibe from the first.
Gotta love the Summer.
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You’ve probably noticed that since arriving in Ukraine, Peder and I have engaged in virtually no sightseeing whatsoever. That’s because we arrived on a Friday – in Odesa, a city renowned throughout the region for its unique people and bubbling nightlife. With only 24 hours in a day, it isn’t easy to stay out socializing until morning and still find time to sleep and see the sights – all in time for the following night out.
But now that the weekend had come and gone, in a much-needed break for our livers the time had finally come to sample a few of Odesa’s touristic offerings.
In my usual style, the following will be a mainly photo-driven post – just to give a taste of the city’s more well-known landmarks.
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Although Peder was fairly certain they’d been driven by little more than paranoia, after two distinctly unnerving situations in which we were warned – repeatedly – of how dangerous Arcadia is for a couple of Western travelers, I decided to get a second third opinion on the matter. The next morning, I asked our hotel receptionist.
Her answer was just a little troubling. Continue reading »



