Coaches...

Well, we waited at the coach station for an hour for the first morning coach. A 200Km, four-hour journey ahead of us. At last, I though, I might be able to get a few hours comfortable sleep.

Delusions are wonderful things.

My mind was full of the comfortable relaxed coach journey we had had in England from my home town to the airport in London, a pleasant 3 and a half hours. Then this was all shattered as a 50year old soviet bus rumbled and coughed its way into the station. I commented to my partner about who would be unlucky enough to be on that, and she turned to me, laughed and said "that would be us then". i stopped laughing quite quickly after that.
We put our luggage into a hole in the side of the bus (there was a door on it and the driver shut it with several blows from his foot) and we climbed on board. Little did I know that this coach had come from Kiev overnight with most of the people who were on it at the time I boarded. In ukraine a lot of people catch the coach if they can't afford the train. I think you get the picture. I didn't care to be honest. By this time I was so tired I actually slept for 3 hours on this old bus as it rumbled and dragged itself 200Km.
Having had quite enough already we both staggered into a taxi in Chernovtsiy for the ride home...