Got time on your hands this weekend? Get away, but not too far away, and check out Chernihiv, Pyrohovo, Pushcha Vodytsya, or Kaniv for a day.
f Kyiv, is nice. The marshrutka ride from the capital’s Central Bus Station (Avtovokzal) is a sleepy float through a storybook Ukraine of haystacks, fields and peasants messing around with donkeys. Old women sit on benches in front of their huts and wave to you, and if you crack the bus window, you get a faceful of grass-scented air. It’s all like something out of Repin.
Then Chernihiv’s domes become visible above the fields and you’re seeing the place as pilgrims to the Kyivan Rus power center – once one of the greatest towns in Europe – must have 850 years ago: as a city of God, so to speak, rising out of the mystical Slavic soil.
Most of what you want to see in Chernihiv is in the city’s oldest section, the Val, a shady series of park-like spaces perched above the Desna River.
The Val is littered with churches, most dating back to the 11th and 12th centuries, when Chernihiv was the wealthy capital of a huge principality, a place that, were it not for an inconvenient pillaging by the Tatars in 1239 A.D., could have developed into another Kyiv or Moscow.
You’ll want to see Spassky Cathedral, with its golden towers that resemble up-ended ice-cream cones. Prince Mstislav, Chernihiv’s golden-age ruler, ordered it built around 1030. Back then it was a major social center; these days, and especially on a sleepy summer afternoon, it’s (inside) a dim, cool, gorgeous place.
You’ll also want to see the Cathedral of Sts. Boris and Hleb. Built in 1123, it’s a great example of the famous Chernihiv architecture of the period, and now a museum. The Collegium, meanwhile, built around 1700, was one of the first secular learning establishments in the region. It resembles a vertically elongated wedding-cake. The beautiful 18th-century St. Catherine’s Church is also in the Val area, as are some elegant examples of secular architecture such as the Archbishop’s House and the Governor’s House.
But individual buildings aside, the attraction of the Val is more general. Walking there is like wandering around a peaceful rustic college campus, with the classroom buildings replaced by precious churches and the sophomores by pious babushkas and monks. Bring a book and sit under a tree for a while, surrounded by the breeze and the ancient silences. Then stroll over to check out the actually kind of interesting Shevchenko monument and gaze at the Desna. Then wander back and sit under another tree. Chernihiv, indeed, is a good place to visit alone.
Red Square and Beyond
Chernihiv’s main street is wide, elegant and dramatic; moreover, tucked away in a park over there behind the theaters, you’ll find the wee Church of St. Parascene, a 12th-13th century jewel built according to both Slavic and Byzantine traditions.
One more crucial part of Chernihiv to visit before you get on the bus back to Kyiv is the Boldinny Mountains, which are lousy with lovely religious sites. Check out the grave barrows of the old necropolis: morbid, maybe a little, but peaceful.
One of Chernihiv’s best sights is the St. Anthony monastic cave complex. There’s even a whole underground church down there. And Trinity Monastery is a great example of Ukrainian Baroque architecture, and one of the most picturesque religious spots in the ancient city. It’s all green domes, stretching the church’s pure white walls heavenward.
Information: Marshrutka taxis leave for Chernihiv from Kyiv’s Central Bus Station (3 Moskovska, 265-5774) every one or two hours (or more), every day. The first leaves at 6:10 a.m. and the last at 6:40 p.m. Tickets cost Hr 12 one-way. You can also catch a marshrutka from the Darnytsya metro station. No schedule exists.
Buses leave from Chernihiv to Kyiv with similar regularity, but service stops in the evening, so plan ahead. The bus station is on the other side of town from the sights. Either make the long walk (45 minutes) or hop one of the buses that run along the main drag to the Val.
– Andrey Slivka
2 Trinity Monastery/Pyrohovo
Get off the bus at Kitaeva Pustyn, on Kyiv’s outskirts, and start out for the road that leads to Trinity Monastery, and as you ascend the rise you’re faced with a juxtaposition of sights. To the right rise the Baroque green domes of the monastery complex, as lovely a sight as Slavic Christendom has to offer. To your left rots the dingiest Brezhnev-era apartment building in the entire FSU, a wreck that resembles a rotting ship’s hulk.
Needless to say, walk toward the monastery.
There, centering on the 18th-century church, you’ll find a quiet monastic complex without many tourists, tucked away in the hollows. Monks stride silently between the perfect gardens and past cabins hemmed in by picket fences. Once in a while, bells peal ecstatically, which just magnifies the sensation of holy silence. If you’re like me, you sit on a bench and start falling asleep.
The church is notable for the psychedelic riot of colors that characterize its iconostasis, and for being the burial place of the so-called Dosifey, a monk who inhabited the cloister in the 18th century. Dosifey’s is a weird and slightly grotesque story: When he died, it turned out that he was actually a woman, beard and all. Her (his?) relics are interred outside of the church, near the altar. Get a load of his/her creepy gender-bending portrait on the gravestone.
The Caves
Trinity Monastery has a small but atmospheric cave complex, built into a hillside just five minutes from the church. It’s here, in fact, that Dosifey spent a lot of time. When Catherine the Great came to visit him (her?), the story goes, Dosifey refused to emerge, so great was her (his?) pious contempt for worldly power. The empress left a bag of gold near the recluse’s window.
Dug out of clay, the cave tunnels have a satisfying smoothness; they’re all rounded edges and swelling curves. Candlelit shrines burn at various points, providing warm islands in the incense-scented darkness; at times I thought I was less in an art installation. Seeing the monkish skull and bones set into the wall behind a locked grate gave me a thrill.
Buy a candle at the door on the way down, of course. I shelled out 50 kopecks for the king-sized version, and was happy I did so. Down there in the eerie darkness, it’s good to have the extra candle-power, so to speak.
Bushwhacking
Part two of our day trip: the several-kilometer march from Trinity Monastery to the Pyrohovo open-air museum.
You don’t have to walk to Pyrohovo, of course. You can take the bus. But if you want an adventure and some exercise, follow the trails along the series of bogs in back of the monastery complex, but don’t even try to walk unless you’re in shape and you know what you’re doing in the woods. Watch out for the damn bees – one of us got stung.
On a dry day, this hike must be very pleasant. On the humid day on which we went, it was challenging. Vapors rose off the green-scummed water, and once in a while we came across a solitary angler, glumly watching his cork bob, marinating in the dank air. I had the sense I’d entered some enchanted landscape out of Poe.
Finally, however, the trail rises and you’re parallel to a low fence on your left, beyond which is an open meadow. That fence is the boundary of the Pyrohovo museum campus. Follow the fence to the museum entrance and pay there to enter.
Inside the Museum
Pyrohovo is a sort of heaven. It’s just acres of rolling meadows, dotted with examples of Ukrainian folk architecture: Hutsul churches, Carpathian peasant huts, and so on. I especially like the half-dozen windmills, looming on hills like massive insects, waiting for dreamers to tilt at them.
(Standing there in the meadows, surrounded by Galician folk architecture, I had a weird sensation of displacement. I could have been in one of the Ukrainian Diaspora’s rustic retreats on the East Coast of the U.S. Rolling hills and dales, and tons of hand-built wooden Hutsul churches? Yes, you might be in Kyiv. But you just as well might be in Kerhonksen, New York.)
Bring a picnic (and, I guess, a bandura), and you could spend a pleasant day at Pyrohovo. There are picnic tables and barbecue facilities down near the front of the place, and an outdoor restaurant, under the terraces of which you can sit and eat honey cake and drink tea. That’s what we did when an early evening cloudburst hit. We dozed at our table as the gentle rain washed the world.
Information: To get to Kitaevo Pustyn, take Marshrutka #557 to Korchevatoe from Lybidska metro station: ask the bus driver to stop close to the monastery, then walk up the road for about 10 minutes. Bus #52 from Lybidska will also get you there. To get to Pyrohovo (if you don’t hike it), go back to Lybidska (it’s a short hop from the Pustyn) and take Bus #27 or Trolley #11.
– Andrey Slivka
3 The Old Tram to Pushcha Vodytsya
Not so long ago, the pine-forested area north of Kyiv known as Pushcha Vodytsya was known as the playground of the Romanovs (and a whole host of other Russian nobles besides). The tall stands of pine and poplar there surround a series of tiny lakes, making it a quiet, perfectly cozy place for anyone, blue-blooded or otherwise.
During the Soviet era, Pushcha Vodytsya was made far more accessible to common folk, as it remains to this day. The Soviets built sanatoria of all kinds on the shores of those sublime lakes, realizing the place to be every bit as good a respite from the bustle of Kyiv as the czars found it. Even now, the numerous health spas and sanatoria there call out to hundreds of Ukrainians looking for a quiet, relaxing spot to go any time of year to recuperate and unwind.
A peculiarity of Pushcha Vodytsya’s location means that getting there is certainly more than half the fun. Though connected to Kyiv and within the city limits, the resort area is best accessed via Tram #12, which you can catch from Kontraktova Ploshcha in Podil.
Excursion Tram #1
Better even than taking the publicly-operated Tram #12 – which operates daily to Pushcha Vodytsya through a maze of the tall pines that surround much of Kyiv – is hiring “Excursion Tram #1,” a well-preserved antique from the turn of the century. It takes the same route as the city tram.
I went with a friend on her birthday out to Pushcha Vodytsya on old Tram #1. Painted bright blue and with an all-wooden interior, the tram is a delight in itself, what with the open area at the back, where we hung out drinking beer on a warm Saturday afternoon; the old brass bell that the conductor allowed us to clang; and the tall windows through which we stared, our thoughts lingering in the forest shadows as we daydreamed away our time on this storybook train.
There isn’t a car to be seen once the tram leaves the built-up areas of Kyiv and dives headlong into the woods for the second half of the hour-long trip. Every so often another car passes by and disappears again around the next corner. When you finally arrive at Pushcha Vodytsya, there’s an opening in the forest and a spread of tiny dachas with gardens. A dozen sanatoria meet the eye.
Lazing Around
As for what to do in Pushcha Vodytsya, it’s up to you. Camp out on the shores of one of the many lakes and go swimming. Lie down on the sand under that amazing canopy of pines and read or play music (it’s a great place to bring a guitar). Toss a Frisbee around in one of the health resort’s many open areas – it doesn’t matter.
For my friend’s birthday she rented a hut at the Slavutich pension, built to resemble an old peasant banquet hall. It had tall thatched-roof ceilings and an open plan, so that we could get out of the sun when we needed to but not feel cooped up. Outside we had a barbecue pit where we grilled our own shashlik (though they could have provided that for us). Many of us took turns falling asleep in the sun wherever we felt like it, a great and perfectly tranquil end to a long week at work.
Information: Call Mykola Dmytrovich at 8-050-444-6190 to inquire about renting old Excursion Tram #1. The cost is $10 per hour (an average day is about six hours) and it should be booked no less than seven days beforehand. As for the Slavutich pension, the cost was Hr 10 per person, which for us totaled Hr 150 for the four-hour stay. To book a spot call 431-9665. You can only book on weekdays during business hours, and you must pay for everything in advance (per guest and for food, if ordered).
– Paul Miazga
4 Roll Downriver to Kaniv
“When I am dead, then bury me
In my beloved Ukraine,
My tomb upon a grave mound high
Amid the spreading plain”
Taras Shevchenko, Ukrainian poet, artist, hero and legend – you might have heard of him – is buried on a hill overlooking the Dnipro just south of the town of Kaniv in Cherkasy oblast. His “grave mound high” is crowned by a robust statue of him standing on a tall pedestal. From this vantage point he gazes out over the river and the spreading plain below.
He also gazes over the many visitors – schoolchildren, Diaspora tourists, ex-pats and others – who come, in nice weather especially, to this idyllic spot.
The three hour hydrofoil ride down the Dnipro from Kyiv to Kaniv is a relaxing way to get out of the city and see the quaint villages that dot the rier shore as it flows south. The river widens to stunning proportions beyond Kyiv: I was told that it averages barely two meters in depth, yet can be more than 1 km wide in spots. Also, a remarkable forest of acacias surrounding the monument provides some nice walking and hiking opportunities (you’ll have plenty of time to kill after having lunch and hiking up to see the grave).
The port where the Kyiv-Kaniv hydrofoil docks at Tarasova Hora (Taras’ Hill) is a large concrete structure rusted and falling apart. A dozen babushkas greet you with flowers that you can purchase and lay on Shevchenko’s grave. Once you’ve negotiated your way past the babushkas, a small gate opens up to reveal run-down buildings and overgrown grass. An old man quickly lets all know that there is a shashlik hut 150 meters away where you can eat and drink plenty of cold beer.
But the tall grass gives way to manicured lawns, some small flower beds and craft sellers at the foot of the hill and the well-crafted concrete and steel staircase that takes you to the top. Rocks engraved with the poet’s words mark the way.
An overlook just at the foot of Shevchenko’s grave provides a great view of the Dnipro below. Crowds gathered alongside me to take pictures of the view before climbing a few more steps to gaze at the monument and five-meter-high statue marking Shevchenko’s final resting place.
A large museum stands to the side of Shevchenko’s grave, and people file in to look at artifacts and collections from the poet’s life. A small Ukrainian village hut sits directly behind the museum, marking the site of the first Shevchenko museum in Kaniv. The hut belonged to a personal friend of Shevchenko who lived near the grave to protect it from vandals. Who’d want to vandalize Shevchenko’s grave in Ukraine? It’s an interesting question.
Information: Getting to Kaniv is easy if you don’t mind getting up really early. The Kaniv hydrofoil leaves the Richny Vokzal (River Port) at 8 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays (summertime only) and arrives in Kaniv at 11 a.m. A one-way ticket for adults is just Hr 30, which is well worth it just to sit on the back end of the boat and let the wind and spray catch you full in the face.
The hydrofoil returns to pick up passengers at Taras’ Hill at 4 p.m., returning to the Richny Vokzal by 7:30 p.m. There is no food or drinks served on the boat, so it’s advisable to bring your own.
The round trip cost on the hydrofoil is Hr 60, which is a small price to pay to offer your respects to Ukraine’s national poet and get out of town for a day.
– T.A. Akimoff
Post photos by Vika Barchenko and Paul Miazga
