Our last posession has left Ukraine. We’ve been in the US six months and finally the Discovery left Ukraine and is now sitting in a bonded warehouse in the UK.

I have a buyer for it and all I have to do now is (remotely) wrangle it through customs. Seems like we won’t get away without paying any tax at all but we can value it very …uhhh… competitively so that HMG’s cut is small. Certainly smaller than the VAT on the new price.

We already have a buyer but if you need a lowmilage, lhd 4×4 with great gas-milage* and a solid history of being in exciting countries, please reply at the address below.

* not really.

The internet is a funny old thing but not as funny as the World of Warcraft wherein exist “Boots of Blasphemy“. Jane and I stumbled on this concept whilst trying to read the whole internet (as you do). It immedaitely set us thinking about what the magical power of said boots would be. Were they just a little tight and pinched when you ran for the bus? Or did they empower the wearer to stride around out blaspheming his enemies?

After two days in Ukraine, I can reveal that the Boots of Blasphemy are a pair of brown size eight ankle boots made by Prada about 5 years ago. Jane bought them for me and I brought them to Kyiv.

A Boot of Blasphemy.

The weather here has been just around zero: near enough so that the snow on the pavement is just on the verge of thawing and freezing all day. Walking around I’ve been slipping and sliding all over the place nearly falling over every five minutes repeating “Christ this is woaaahhh…. Jesus I nearly fell! Christ…” etc. over and over.

Some snow yesterday

Ho Ho. Sunday night is going to be festive. I’m trying to get to London…

One day walking down Andrevski, we caught sight of an old guy selling oil paintings stolen from Soviet institutions.

$50 later we were up one rolled canvas on Lenin. We smuggled him past the border guards rolled in a map of the world and then had him mounted at Edgewise Arts [1] which cost significantly more than $50.

He came back at the weekend and yesterday I hung him. I was particularly impressed with the way the crappy iPhone camera and the halogen picture light gave Vova a halo.

[1] Dan at Edgewise arts took one look at the picture and said “Oh yeah, this guy looks familiar” looking pointedly at me. “Yes, the father of modern comunism” I replied. “Oh, so you didn’t just shave the beard off then…”.

One of the main reasons for this trip is selling the Discovery*. I’ve never been sentimental about cars but this one is different. First off, it’s a fantastic (if tremendously environmentally unfriendly) car. More importantly, we’ve been through a lot with it.

I’m getting a bit maudlin about Kyiv and Ukraine. For all the whinging and problems we’ve had, it has been an incredibly dense and interesting couple of years. I’m really glad I have the opportunity to come back.

* Of course, I say I’m selling the Discovery. That is a long way off. Today I have to have three separate legal documents notarised** so I can export it from Ukraine without being physically present at the border. then I have to manage the export process from the US and sell it once it’s back in the UK.

I did manage to get another an ex-pat to buy it but the Ukrainian customs control would impose a 60% sales tax on an imported car. I’m sure we could bribe our way round it but because of the sums involved, the bribe would be crippling too.

** Before I came to Ukraine I had never been to a notary’s office. Here it’s a weekly event.

Part of the problem with ex-pat life is saying goodbye. It doesn’t get any easier.

The guys at the office made is particularly hard because there’s a lot of them and I’ve had a hand in hiring all of them and by giving me some particularly fine presents. Three liters of Sono fuel*, a cartoon**, some Ukrainian CDs and a medal declaring me an “honorary member of the test team”.

I am a little overcome
* Finest Nemirof, the best vodka in the world
** never work with artists

you remember last year? The broken heating?

Well, so does Kyiv. Whilst Janis is stuffing her face with London’s finest sushi, my water has been cut off. There is a leak from our flat to the flat below which my landlord has apparently refused for fix for five years. The owner below took out a court order and got the water shut off. I’ve been without water for over 2 days now. Amazingly, this is legal until “all circumstances and details are investigated and fixed in corresponding order” which means at least 2 weeks or more likely until we move out and they can take the flat to bits.

I have two options:

- Find a short term place here
- Move to the US early.

I’m investigating both in parallel. The dogs are a sticking point on both fronts.

They did it! The big white house is now the big red house. Without a roof.

Or rather, wish the DVDs luck. Tomorrow, they go “over the wall” each one with a euro tucked behind its ear.

Yesterday, I felt like I’d been sent back two years. I had to get a power of attorney for our removers. Just like when we were arriving, I had to burn a day waiting in a hot cramped office for someone to sign an impressive looking but essentially meaningless document.

That was easy though. I am not looking forward to getting all of our stuff out of Ukraine. The removal men arrived today they took one look at our (relatively modest) DVD collection and phoned the mother-ship. I was handed the phone to discuss the problem with Vlad.

“Our customs manager said you can’t have more than 20 CDs”
“CDs or DVDs?”
“Both. Anything. Discs”
“We can take them out if you pay one euro per item. It is not official”

Ukraine has been targeted as one of the world hot-spots for DVD piracy, obviously they want to keep the legal DVDs in the country to keep the ratios up. At least I’ll be back regularly, I can stash them at the office and carry them out in batches.

I’m now convinced that not bringing our stuff into Ukraine was the right idea.