Leaving with a lump in my throat

Leaving Ukraine feels like leaving a loved one while they’re being battered by a bully. I hate it and I always have a massive lump in my throat when I board the bus that will take me across the border.

Leaving after this latest trip, the lump felt bigger than ever.

This was the first time I’d travelled to Ukraine when my son wasn’t there. But now he has a Ukrainian wife, I’ve also been absorbed into her lovely family, so when I told them I was writing a novel set in Lviv and wanted to come back to do some research they were only too happy and eager to help.

I arrived a couple of weeks ago to find that my daughter-in-law’s grandma had arranged several meetings for me with local historians and former political prisoners and Resistance members.

Through one of these meetings I ended up being invited to the 35th Anniversary celebrations for the First Democratic Assembly in Lviv, which was a huge honour and another pertinent reminder of what Ukrainians are currently fighting so hard to preserve.

laying a rose at the monument to the leader of the first democratic assembly

My daughter-in-law’s dad had also arranged a couple of outings for me.

Here I am visiting an original Resistance hideout, deep in the forest…

I was gifted a replica Resistance Army hat!

Most of my World War 2 novels are about Resistance members because I’m so in awe of the courage they possessed, risking everything to fight for freedom. Getting to see where the Ukrainian Resistance members operated from and hid, knowing they could be killed at any moment, was so inspiring.

I was especially moved to learn about a couple of the women who had lived in the forest hideout, deep underground, writing Resistance pamphlets, periodicals and even novels, to encourage other Ukrainians to stay strong and join them in their fight.

Every day I was in Lviv I had some kind of meeting, talk or event. I filled an entire notebook with facts and figures, dates and quotes, and my head is now full to the brim with details and ideas for my book.

But best of all were the human connections and new friendships I made on this trip.

And even though I was there to talk about Ukrainian history, the topic of the current full scale invasion was ever present - how could it not be?

While I was there the Russians attacked two civilian targets with cluster bombs - bombs which release multiple smaller ‘bomblets’ upon impact, designed to cause maximum casualties. One of these hit a children’s playground, killing 9 children and 10 adults, and the other targeted a busy street just after church on Palm Sunday, killing 35 and injuring many more.

And these cluster bombs came on top of the customary daily drone and ‘bog standard’ missile strikes.

There’s something about being in a country that’s under attack that really bonds you to the other people there - or at least, that has been my experience - and this trip was no different.

My head and notebook might be full of historical facts and details, but my heart is full of new connections and unforgettable memories, and my case is full of gifts I received from the incredibly warm and generous people I met there.

And so, as soon as I got to the bus station to leave, I felt a lump forming in my throat.

Lviv bus station is right in front of the grand old railway station - a beautiful building dating back to the start of the twentieth century, that was bombed by the Luftwaffe in 1939 and has been targeted several times since the start of the full scale invasion.

with my daughter-in-law at the station last summer

Just like any big city station, the concourse outside is bustling with people, buses and trams - especially early in the morning. But just as I was about to board my bus an announcement came over the tannoys and the music from the cafes and the chatter from the people instantly stopped and everyone stood dead still, heads bowed.

It was 9am - time for the DAILY minute’s silence to honour all those who have lost their lives since the start of the full scale invasion.

All that could be heard was the sound of a clock ticking being broadcast from the speakers, echoing eerily across the concourse.

The lump in my throat grew so big I could barely breathe.

I really, really didn’t want to leave.

The silence came to an end and I hugged my daughter-in-law’s father goodbye. Then he took some pics of me boarding the bus to send to our family group chat.

As soon as he sent them the group lit up with messages sending me love and wishing me safe travels.

The lump in my throat grew even bigger.

The bus began pulling out. I saw countless men in military uniforms and backpacks making their way to the station, on their way back to the front line after being home on leave. Some were on crutches. I saw couples hugging each other so tightly as they said good-bye. My eyes filled with tears.

All the way to the border I felt choked up and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one. The atmosphere on the bus was very subdued.

It was only when we reached the Polish border control that people began to chat.

I’d managed to sniff out a coffee machine in the extremely spartan building and, while I waited for my drink to be dispensed, a woman said something to me in Ukrainian.

I replied apologetically in my pidgin Ukrainian that I was from Britain and she gave me a beaming grin. It turned out that she was pretty much fluent in English.

As we waited for our bus to clear border control we chatted in the sunshine drinking our coffee and by the time we got back on board we were firm friends.

She was travelling with her 14-year-old son, who had no issue at all with her coming to sit beside me - I’m guessing it gave him more phone time! - and the next couple of hours flew by as we exchanged travel tales, and she told me all about her experience of the war in Ukraine.

As is the case with so many displaced Ukrainians, she and her son had to flee the country in the immediate aftermath of the invasion - first to Poland and now they’ve found a home in Israel - while her ex-husband and son’s father fights on the front line.

Shortly after crossing into Poland, our bus passed an airport. A plane was coming in to land just as we drove by, causing a couple of women across the aisle from us to get extremely excited.

My new companion explained that they were excited because it was the first time they’d seen a passenger plane in over three years - there have been no flights in or out of Ukraine since the full scale invasion. As a poignant aside, many shops in Ukraine now sell plane pendants and jewellery as a symbol of their longing for peace.

I came across this really moving piece of street art on a trip to Zakarpattia in 2023.

the sight that every Ukrainian longs to see

A couple of hours into the Polish leg of our journey the bus took a break at a truck stop that has a McDonalds. This is always my favourite pit stop on the journey as it’s surrounded by beautiful scenery and, most importantly when on a long road trip, it has by far the best toilets!

This time the break was especially nice because I’d made a new friend and I sat with her and her son at a bench table outside the McDonalds, feasting on burgers and their legendary deep fried apple pie, soaking in the warm sunshine.

As we chatted and laughed my sadness lifted a little, replaced with huge gratitude for another serendipitous travel experience and new heartfelt connection.

We got back on the bus for more hours of deep discussion about life and love and creativity, and by the time we reached Krakow my new friend and I had connected on Facebook and I had an invitation to visit her in Eilat!

I always stay at the same budget hotel in Krakow when I’m going to or from Lviv and this time I really lucked out with my room, which was on a higher floor than usual and at the much quieter back of the building with a beautiful tree-filled view.

I lay on my bed and gazed at the trees, listening to the evening birdsong as I slowly began to process all that had happened on my jam-packed trip and form a plan for what to do next.

1. I was going to write book from the heart about all I’d learned, showing the importance of historical backstory to current events

2. I was going to dedicate it to all the incredibly brave and generous Ukrainians I’ve been lucky enough to meet

3. I was going to return to Lviv this summer to work on the book and volunteer for a wonderful organisation I discovered on this trip

You’d have to have been living under a rock recently to not realise that the world is becoming an increasingly precarious place, but one thing that my extensive World War 2 research and my present day experiences in Ukraine have taught me is that the worst of times truly bring out the best in people.

And as I wrote about last week, one of the quickest and best ways to to feel positive and empowered in the face of injustice and aggression, is to do something - anything - to help one another and make this world a fairer, more loving place.

As Anne Frank so beautifully wrote…

“How wonderful it is that no-one need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.”

Because improving the world doesn’t have to be as big and bold as going to fight on the front line or holing up in a Resistance hideout, it can be as simple as being kind to others and offering support to those in need, perhaps via donations to charities (I make a monthly donation to the charity War Child).

Until next week, here’s to building connections so heartfelt and strong we always have a lump in our throat when we leave.

Siobhan