There is something Polish about Lwow that goes beyond the mere similarity in language (aside for the alphabet). I can’t put a finger on it, but once I arrived, I felt that I was close, albeit not exactly at home. It may have been the look of the Old Town, or the food (lots of pancakes, cabbage, perogies and borsch). Maybe it was simply the fact that Lwow used to be a Polish city.However, whatever similarities I felt, there was also a simultaneous sense of difference most apparent in the evident poverty that still encompassed the city. Walking the 3 km from the train station to the hostel I would have been hard pressed to find a meter of smooth street or sidewalk. The roads were warped, the cobblestone laid almost in waves. The trams clattered down these streets noisily as did the endless array of little buses, some oddly narrow. Taxi drivers stood at the front entrance to the train station trying to snag some customers for the $2 ride into the center. Old ladies were hurrying to and fro with various goods and bags, getting ready to set up somewhere at a market or on the side of the street. The buildings along the way were in need of a facelift or at least a decent scrub. Simply put, you could see that the changes that had been taking place in Western Europe and in those Eastern European countries which had already joined the EU had not yet commenced in the Ukraine. I do not want to imply that this was an impoverished city, but it was most definitely one in need of an influx in investment and infrastructure.
That being said, it was also a city that has not been on any kind of main tourist circuit and as such the tourists were few and far between. The hostel I stayed at had several dorm rooms and private apartments in which it could probably accommodate about 50 people. The night before it had one guest. When I stayed there might at most have been 15 people staying there. When asked if business would pick up later on in the season, I was told that it depended on whether there would be any large groups coming by, otherwise they generally expect a few individual tourists throughout the summer.
Due to the general lack of tourists, it is not a city geared towards sightseeing or your usual touristic activities. Rather, it is much better to simply soak in the city, the atmosphere, and the people. The Old Town and its central square is a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage site. It is beautifully restored with the city hall in the center and gorgeous old facades all around. Plenty of benches along all its little streets allow you to do as the locals do: sit down, soak in the sun and sights, and watch the world go by.
During my time there I roamed the city center, the smaller streets leading away from it as well as the few parks surrounding it. I also made the excursion out to the Lychakiv Cemetery which is home to the Cmentarz Orlat, or the Cemetery of the Little Eagles. The whole grounds of this Cemetery are quite beautiful as they are located in an old growth forest, with the graves hidden amongst the big trees and hills, some of the older ones slowly being reclaimed by nature. However, the most touching part of it for me was the Cmentarz Orlat, a small section of the cemetery where the Polish soldiers who fought for Lwow’s freedom in 1918 are buried. The grounds are immaculately well maintained with the gravestones glistening white and a short wander amongst these stones is enough to bring tears to anyone’s eyes. Of the 3000 or so Polish soldiers who lost their lives, the vast majority were under 19 years of age. There was a grave of a boy a mere 6 years old, many of 10 and 12 year olds including one who was awarded the Victoria Cross. With most of the Polish army fighting elsewhere, there was no one else left to defend Lwow and this battle therefore fell into the hands of children and retired soldiers. All those who fought and died are buried in this part of the cemetery.Not to leave Lwow on such a depressing note, I will also mention that Lwow, and from what I heard the rest of the Ukraine, are insanely cheap. Had it not been for the expensive train ride that I had to book back to Poland, I would have spent under $20 per day in Lwow. Food, at the Puchata Hata, a cafeteria style establishment where you could load up on borsch, cutlets, cabbage, perogies, pancakes, fish, chicken and whatever else you wished, was some of the cheapest I had come across. My dinner on the first night which comprised of borsch, a salad, cabbage, chicken, mashed potatoes, pancakes and a drink totaled a mere $7 and that was already splurging.
I left Lwow after two days on a very early morning sleeper train and once again was amazed at the
clean bed sheets and covers and the service provided. On top of it the Polish managed to change the entire train suspension in about 45 minutes (as opposed to the 4 hours it took when entering the Ukraine). And yes, I managed to confirm that they do indeed lift up the train cars, detach the suspension, roll it out, roll in the new suspension and lower the train cars onto it. Quite a fascinating process.
