Day 1
We arrive at the airport 3 hours early, which I complain about beforehand but it turns out to be a good thing because I forget my passport in the car of my mom's friend who drove us there. I realize this after my mom checks, I call her mother, get her husband's cell # and dial it while I visualize him getting the phone call and flagging her down on the road, trying to get her attention. Fate is on my side as she answers the phone and kindly comes back. We check our bags in, my grandmother's luggage weighs just about 50 pounds, my mother's, slightly less. I (and I mean I) will be lugging these around for the next month or so, hence my relief at only having to carry 100 pounds or so of s*** around.
We go through airport security where they inform us that we aren't allowed to have any liquids, among other things in our hand luggage, this is something we knew beforehand. Upon inspecting our bags, my mother is shocked to find out that makeup does indeed count as a liquid. She proceeds to moan about this for the next couple of hours, until we are about to board the plane, when she realizes that they took pity on her. She also apparently forgot that hand sanitizer is a liquid too. They weren't so lenient with that one. My belt buckle will apparently set off the sensor, so I'm asked to remove it. I stand around and ask if I can have my belt back now, as my pants are in the process of falling off. The guy tells me (in a rude French accent), that I should buy smaller pants. Apparently the concept of low-rise jeans is lost upon him.
Fast forward a bit, we get on the plane and strap ourselves in for a nice 9 hour flight to Amsterdam and no, I will not be staying long enough to enjoy the sights, nor the many freely available narcotics, so don't even ask. Our flight is characterized by a lack of sleep, partly due to some French lady yelling in a horrendous Quebecer accent, which is almost enough to make me toss my cookies but sadly, I don't.
I watch The Prestige for the 10th time on my laptop and finish Lunar Park (finally) after the battery dies. By the time the yummy airline beef stew and smoked almonds make my stomach turn, we land.
I haven't slept. The airport in Amsterdam is beautiful, my grandmother rides on this golf cart thing driven by a pretty Dutch girl, while my mother and I walk over to the waiting lounge. There are these crazy leather chairs that are made in the shape of a slouched down person and I will soon come to discover that these are apparently so comfortable, there's a ton of people waiting for someone to leave. Long story short, my mom gets called 'a f***ing b****' by some Indian lady and when I go over there to smooth things out, my grandmother comes over and calls the lady 'a b**** herself'. I can tell I'm in for a fun trip.
I walk around the airport, make a 5 euro call to Visa, so they don't think I got defrauded by some crazy Ukrainian dude, pay 6 Euros to use the Wi-Fi for 30 minutes and pay 11 Euros for a power converter after discovering the one I got from Canadian Tire doesn't work for s***. It cost me less to buy the thing in an airport in Amsterdam than it did with my discount at CT...Damn you Canadian Tire!
There are sausage rolls everywhere I go.
We decide to before we get on our plane, so we take a stroll over to the food court. There are tons of shops, full of cool s*** but when I see that a Toblerone costs 12 Euros, I decide to stay away.
There's a McDonalds, a Boulangerie (that has more sausage rolls), some crazy restaurant that has a fridge full of wine bottles and 30 dollar fish or steak meals on the menu. I opt for Sbarro's, seeing as I don't know how long it will be til I have pizza again. As expected, the pizza sucks and when I see a huge stack of onions, literally piled on top of it, I throw in the towel and buy a pack of 4 Euro M&M's and Paprika chips (2 Euros, all the Dutch people were eating them) for the plane.
My grandmother once again rides on the golf cart thing while my mother and I walk from gates 1 to 54.
My mother makes a comment on how we know this is the flight to the Ukraine as everyone looks Slavic as f***. I notice the lady who checks the boarding passes and is our flight attendant is Dutch, pretty and pregnant. I wonder aloud if she should be flying. Our flight is delayed by 20 minutes. This is how things work in the Ukraine. I can tell this is going to be a great trip.
This ugly Russian chick checks me out and when I notice her looking at me, she looks away.
I pass out once we take off and wake up with my mouth agape and a mini Twix in front of me. I check myself for drool...all clear, minus the terrible pain in my neck. As we're landing my grandmother gets her 2nd Twix from the stewardess and breaks her tooth. She now looks like Chris Benoit, minus the whole psycho and being a man thing.
When we land, this Ukrainian dude pushes my grandmother in a wheelchair and sneaks us past customs via some Army thing. We give him a 20 dollar tip, 10 Canadian and 10 Euros. I notice a group of Ukrainian stewardess and they notice me noticing them. They're all gorgeous, things are looking up (no pun intended).
We meet up with my..grand-uncle? And take a 50 dollar taxi ride to the hotel. The only thing I pay attention to is what can best be described as some sort of housing projects. It's basically miles of decrepit apartment buildings, one after the other on both sides of the street.
I notice that every girl I've seen since being in the Ukraine is insanely good looking and it's at this point that I realize that I haven't had sexual release in god knows how long. Oh, and they apparently have those stupid ballet leggings here too. This is going to be a long trip.
We arrive at the hotel and go to check in. Three blondes greet us at the front desk, one of them is very pretty. We fill in the forums and I go to get our bags. My grandmother insists on having the bellhop dude help us, she gives him a 10 dollar US tip.
We get our rooms and my mother, grand uncle and I go for dinner. It's at this point that my mother tells me about a conversation she had with the lady at reception. It went something like this:
Mom: My son says all the girls here are cute
Reception girl: Your son is cute too, he should stay in the Ukraine
Not having slept clouds my judgement and we proceed with our regularly scheduled programming.
We end up at this Georgian place which is interesting. Our waitress is ridiculously good-looking and she speaks English. She touches my arm after I make a joke and I figure I may have a chance after all. We can't make up our minds on what to eat, so she gives us some time. By the time we've chosen another waitress serves us and I'm cursing my luck.
They have 'flattened' chicken while I have the Georgian equivalent of a shish-kabob. I give the waitress a 5 dollar tip on our 50 dollar bill and feel cheap, she thanks us profoundly. I will later find out from my cousin that people in the Ukraine don't do the whole 'tipping' thing.
We return to the hotel and the pretty reception girl is gone. I try to sleep but when you're in the same room as Paul Bunyan, it's not so simple.