The Ukrainian bus was a heap of scrap, as old and filthy as I hadn’t seen the like since the impoverished Spain of my early childhood, and it had no heating at all. It took us eight hours to cover the little more than 200 km between Lviv and Lublin. Those experienced passengers among us, the acquainted with the conditions, were cautious enough to wear warm clothings or blankets; but, for me, the trip meant eight hours of static and inescapable freeze, as if nothing walled me from the snowy landscapes visible through the filthy windows. The procedures in the border took close to three hours. When we finally arrived, I was stiff and frigid like a frozen cod. However, during all the trip the passengers behaved like a big family, showing a praiseworthy solidarity.
Travelling in Ukraine is always an unforgettable adventure.