Show me your love, Ukraine

Birch juice and cottage cheese by The Canyon in Ukraine

I had an idea to write a post about our 26th independence and talk about the way we name our land independent. Probably, I will talk to old, grizzled people one day and ask them how that was during dependent Ukraine and have one bread for the week. Today is another topic. Today is about the beauty of one old village where I come back every year and see the same trees and the same people.

This time my travels through Ukraine differ as I have come with my Polish friend, thanks to whom I try to look at white cottages with flowers all around with new eyes. We took a ride to the Buky Canyon 2 hours from the capital and found ourselves in the middle of one of seven miracles of Ukraine.

That’s a quite small place on the cliffs full of maples, birches, and oaks. A couple of families just put up a tent and were about to grill pork ribs in honey sauce. I can not even imagine how beautiful that should be during the autumn when the forest becomes multicolored fairytale creature from well-known Ukrainian poetry.

The place was really clean and peaceful as to compare to other touristic places in the mix with our mentality. Not far away old houses with wooden benches and tables created the village of Buky. Adorable.

Later, we continued our way to the smallest village Petrakivka that you can ever find on the map. Many years it was populated by more than one thousand people, hosted not one-weekend party and welcomed students with bottles of cheap but good homemade wine. Today, it’s empty with some swans on the road, buzz of bees and couple of kids visiting their grannies. Sad. The modern world has pumped all energy from the village and let it die with pumpkin porridge for the breakfast and old dirty blind pig for the dinner.

However, if you’re a foreigner you can notice beauty in it. Roads that don’t deserve to be named like that or apples sold just from the window of the old house create the specific atmosphere. A pond full of seaweed and forgotten rusty fish nets give you an understating of how it was decades ago. Still, you can put a tent next to the oak, drink homemade birch juice and stroke the dog that has just joined you. Adorable and simple.

I wish more travelers would exit Lviv, Kyiv and visit such outback with houses full of 65% hooch under the bed and dumplings of all fillings that you can imagine. Wake up in the morning with no mobile network, take a shower in rain water and taste the fresh cottage cheese from the granny with the biggest smile you have ever seen. Adorable.

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