So we’ve done this before so there shouldn’t be much to write about, right?
(spoiler alert, this is going to be a long post. I might even have to break it up into chunks)
Part 1:
Just like last time, the week leading up to the delivery is absolutely the most frantic. People are trying to drop things off last minute, you’re trying to keep the inventory updated (not only for customs, but for the people receiving it so they know how and where they’re going to move it), boxes get packed, rearranged, and then re-packed, and of course the delivery addresses aren’t given out until the very last minute and only then with the approval from the authorities that be (These locations we frequent to do this, are PRIME targets for Russian terror strikes). But once we get it all in and done, we figure that was going to be the hard part.
We were kinda wrong about that.
The first hiccup hit when we got to the border. Again, the line of cars leading into Ukraine was KILOMETERS long! I think I saw the wait time officially listed as 8-hours on the border website. Due to our cargo, both of our vehicles were allowed to track left and bypass the line. Unfortunately, once we got to the front we were side-stepped into the commercial line and things took a while to do from there. Apparently there was an update to the entry application and it was looking like we were going to have to re-do our inventories right there at the border by hand (we had 4 different inventories. All multiple typed pages long. All for different recipients). I’m listening to the guy in front of me go through the process and he’s 100% American (although I didn’t catch the organization he was with). We do our best to pay attention and to get our stuff in order so we don’t have the same issues. We had… “some” luck with that.
Luckily, we got a border agent who was obviously tired of such things, but still very helpful. Unfortunately, he didn’t like that one vehicle had four destinations so he asked us for a phone number he could call to verify that we were actually going to one of the places where we said we were going. I let him use my phone to call RAZOM, and Ukrainian words were exchanged. The outcome was favorable and in the end he simply asked “ok. No inventory. How many kilos of supplies do you have”
Kilos? Crap, it’s been 8 hours of non-stop driving. I’m over-caffeinated, I’ve got a headache, and now I’m on the spot. My brain frantically searches for a number. I know kilos, I prefer kilos, I even know my weight in kilos (75). “Seventy five!” I say excitedly.
We both look at each other and realize how dumb 75-kilos sounds when you’re looking at a truck squatting on its axles… I might as well have said “purple” for how accurate it was.
“You only have 75 kilos of supplies in your truck?” he asks.
I don’t have the words to say “yeah, I’m an idiot….” and instead he just ads a “1” in front of the number 75 and we are both on our way. Here’s to understanding border agents (raises beer glass for a toast).
That was the eventful happening for the first day. We checked the first fuel station for sim cards, but we didn’t find any. We did however, see some more American legionnaires that were heading west but didn’t stay to chat with them. I saw one that looked like he had an IFAK strapped to his leg, and I briefly pondered offering to kit him out with goodies but decided to keep things going to where they were.
We exchanged some of our Euros for Hryvnia at a local exchange (the rate wasn’t terrible), and got on to the road and RIGHT into oncoming traffic…
See, the road here is one lane in each direction. There are semi-trucks parked in the oncoming lane as far as you can see, and to get around them people are driving in our lane and coming RIGHT at us. I actually thought the first guy was just being a jerk, so I squeezed him pretty tight between me and one of the big trucks. Once I got a better picture though, I realized that was just how traffic HAD to move or it wouldn’t move at all. So that’s how we spent the last bit of our drive. Dodging oncoming traffic in the right lane, and watching truckers make the best out of their stay on the side of the Ukrainian highway (I saw one guy making soup on a cook stove! Right next to his diesel tank :P).
Lots has changed though since April. The military presence was still there but the posture was way more casual and Vikki was right about the gas shortages. I’d say that one out of every five fuel stations we passed actually had some sort of fuel. And the ones that did had lines that stretched out into the already cramped road! Luckily for us, we were warned and the fuel can in the back of the truck meant we didn’t have to sweat the situation one bit (a huge HUGE relief, so thank you Vikki!).
One of my favorite things about this drive though, was seeing the Ukrainian churches in the light of the sunset. I don’t know how else to describe them, but the outline of Ukrainian churches GLOW in the evening light. It is absolutely AMAZING to see (and this next picture absolutely does not do it justice).
Anyhoo we know where we’re staying tonight so we head out that way (same place as last time). I don’t get the Spanish speaking worker, but instead a young guy that speaks JUST enough english to be able to help us out. We get checked in and wouldn’t you know? We get the same hotel room I had last time, and it’s just how I left it! (seriously, I pulled out one of the beds a bit so I could use the outlet behind it, and the bed was RIGHT where I left it).
We walked to a pizza/sushi joint that said it was open until 10pm, but were told it was closed when we entered. Just down the road a bit further was a grocery store, so we loaded up on some fixins to make a “room-dinner” and let the feast begin (still no sim cards, OR playing cards though).
After that it was a good book reading session followed by lights out. Tomorrow’s the big day.
The next day we’re up early for coffee and breakfast, our first real meal in country:
The Hospitallers are our first visit. We’re still working with RAZOM as they have multiple warehouses and they don’t quite know where to put us. It’s no problem really, as our operation without cell/data service is simple: We log into the hotel internet and do all our messaging via whatsapp, we head out to our scheduled delivery, and come back to the hotel to regroup. Rinse-repeat.
We get to the Hospitallers location at our scheduled time of 9am and there’s no one there. Their vehicles are there, there are guards there, but no one to take our delivery. We try calling our contact a few times (we have conditional call forwarding, which means we get about 4-calls in country before our phones stop working) but no one answers. Eventually we head back to the hotel to snag that wifi. Still no sign of the people we’re supposed to meet.
Instead of doing nothing, we think of ways to stay productive. In order to get through the border without issues, we don’t seal our boxes up. This includes the three boxes we’re going to send to Kyiv and Dnipro. Since these are going through the post we need to tape them up and add addresses, so we make a work station out of my tailgate and into production we go.
Originally we were against taking items that were earmarked for the Hospitallers and using them for other purposes. But as there was no one home (and there’s no guarantee that they’re going to be there later) we decide to snag a few things out of their boxes to help stuff Vola (I've since learned that I've been mispronouncing Vola's name as "Vlad", my bad) and his wife’s IFAKs. Chest vents, head lamps, quick clot granules… Once done we tape everything up and as we finish, our phones start vibrating. It’s RAZOM and we are cleared for landing.
We get the address, but are warned that people have issues finding the place once they get close. We’ll get to that later because what happened along the way still gives me the chills.
So there we are, 100% business as our two-car convoy is headed to our first secret drop of the trip. Co-pilots are studying the GPS, radio chatter is kept to an absolute minimum, I’m in the lead and crossing a highway, headed slightly down hill when I hear the distinct sound of the ENTIRE… UNIVERSE… being ripped… COMPLETELY apart….
This shrill destruction of everything we hold holy starts just behind me and to the left and I can hear it coming toward my left shoulder. I don’t have time to turn by head but as my ear is being destroyed from the left inside out, the light above me blinks out for split second and there, above my windshield blasts a MiG-29 at full chat and MAYBE at treetop level (and I mean MAYBE). I swear to Bob his lower VHF antennas were in danger of scratching the paint on my roof. He’s headed away and to the right and both of those cans are lit, glowing, and pointed RIGHT at me.
It
Was
AWESOME!!!!
(and this comes from a guy who spent several years working the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, but I digress)
As I quickly wrap my head around what just happened, and while my eyes processed the awesomeness they were nearly blinded by, I took a second to try to understand what the hell just happened. And this is what I came up with:
The Ghost lives.
The Ghost lives and he knows about us.
The Ghost lives and he took his precious time and fuel to blast the tops of our roofs to let us know he’s aware of what we’re doing
and where we are.
I have never in my life been the sort to fawn over a celebrity, doesn’t matter who they are. But the Ghost is the Ghost, and I have never had the shivers he gave me. Even typing this weeks later makes me shake all over. That’s something that’s going to stay with me the rest of my life.
About now you're probably expecting to see a quick snap of the Ghost's shiny backside... Sorry guys. Attempts to capture moments like that only serve to ruin them. Just know he's still out there and he was thinking of you.
Ok, sorry for the side-track. Back to that address that’s “hard to find”:
Once we get there, we can see what they mean. No matter what address you type in, the GPS(s) always take you to the gate of the same dirt parking lot (and I’m not even kidding. Every address we entered brought us to the same place). So naturally, we get to said parking lot and the guard comes out. We show him where we’re trying to go, and he gestures WAY OUT and around to the left and that’s the direction we head. We get to where we think we’re supposed to be (a row of storage units) and my phone rings!
It’s RAZOM, and he’s asking where we are. We explain what’s around us, and he points us towards a tall building that has an easy to spot banner on it. We now have our destination in sight but no GPS route.
Unfortunately, typing destination into our GPS takes us back to (wait for it) that darn dirt parking lot! The guard comes back out and we explain. He points WAY OUT in the other direction this time, and we do our best. Except THAT road takes us right back to (yup) that darn dirt parking lot.
Eventually we spot a packed dirt hill that looks to be part of a construction site. We drive to the top and look out “Lion King” style. We spot a route and decide to proceed on foot. Once we had the path, we went back and got our cars.
It all made for a good laugh once we dropped stuff off and had the chance to shoot the E36 M3 with the workers. “Vlad”, and I can’t remember the other guy’s name (sorry, other guy).
We talk a bit about who we are and what we’re doing. Vlad was a sound technician for clubs and the such. He was asked if he could help out in the RAZOM warehouse and when he saw their tracking/inventory system, he said he absolutely had to do something about it (it was awful). Now that’s what he’s doing during the day. Keeping the organization organized.
We talk about where we’re going next (to the Ukrainian Post Office) and they direct us to NovoPosta as it is infinitely faster than the government run post office. This aligns with what Vikki said as well, so we get ready to go. We show them the boxes with the addresses and they start laughing…
Vikki’s boxes are addressed correctly, but the one addressed to the guy who needed uniforms, they said it just had random letters on it!
“How could this be? I showed him a photo of the address before I wrote it!”
They absolutely could not stop laughing, and neither could we. I mean it just figures, right?
To fix it, they simply blacked out the random letter block, and said that the rest of the address was good to go. Apparently I had written (in order) “Name of Country, random letters, Name of City, then street, and then name”. Oh well, close enough.
They let us connect to their warehouse wifi so we could get the address to the NovoPosta and we were off. Unfortunately, as we were driving I noticed my GPS was just spinning in circles…
Mrs. Hungary wasn’t having any better luck with hers either (must have been the tall buildings). Remember when I said these guys don’t like to give out addresses until they’re sure of who’s who? This place is surrounded by apartment buildings. A terror strike in an area like this would be catastrophic. More so if it missed it’s intended target.
We try driving, and I’m not even making this up, but everything we do takes us back to that darn dirt parking lot (and to the guard who is getting quite the laugh out of our many visits).
Eventually we realize that the road we’re supposed to be following is dirt, and the reason we couldn’t see it is because it was blocked by construction debris and is now overgrown. Walking is reported to be only 18 minutes so we park back up on top of that hill and load up our bags with water, snacks, and sunblock and start heading in the general direction of where we think the NovoPost is. This, turns out to be the right decision.
The building is easy to find, and the warehouse is HUGE, but luckily the people inside are super helpful. We can’t communicate, but they can see the boxes and take us to the correct counters. To ship 2-boxes of firefighting PPE, and one BIG box of uniforms, boots, and other mentioned goodies), it cost us $50 out the door.
I think the USPS needs to pay a big visit to Ukraine and find out how these guys do such things.
After that, walking back was a breeze, and we’re on our way back to the hotel. To pirate some more wifi.