The Fear That Overtook Me Twice
Don’t travel alone in an unfamiliar hinterland
I love almost all the places I traveled to. If you admire travel as a phenomenon, finding something interesting in any new place would be easy. Some of my trips were disappointing, though — not a significant number, but still. I remembered some of them in detail because of the emotions they gave me (in a bad sense, of course). The trip I’m talking about now is one of the worst memories. I saw a few exciting places, had trouble, and a main shock overtook me at home.
It was almost nine years ago. I was inexperienced and hardly knew my region, where I had lived for only a year and a half. March isn’t a spectacular month, so I selected a close destination that is easy to reach on suburban trains. Ukrainian hinterland hides so many secret gems. As usual, my plan contained many footpath walks. As usual, I was alone.
I planned to visit three spots in three villages: a kaolin quarry, an old wooden church, and an abandoned railway station building. Nothing extraordinary. The chaotic moment was that two of the three villages had a similar name: Hlukhivtsi. It is an ordinary mess near the railway.
I started from the bigger Hlukhivtsi. Strolling often brings me more exciting things than expected, like the St. Paraskeva church from the middle of the 19th century.
Typically, it stands on a hill. I could see a big pond from it.
Thanks to its position, the church is visible from many places. Bright and harmonious, it was lovely in combination with the pond.
I think I can call this Hlukhivtsi town. It is not a tiny settlement with a population of about 3300. Kaolin gave more life to this forgotten settlement (even the town name comes from “wilderness” — “Глухівці — глухе місце,” literally “deaf place”). This rare white clay is widely used in various industries: ceramic, electrotechnical, chemical, perfumery, pharmacy, etc. Kaolin has been mined here since 1901. The quarry and plant provide workplaces and profit for the inhabitants. It’s not unexpected to meet renovated 5-floor buildings in such a place.
Other parts got stuck in the 1960s. Abandoned yards, old buildings, and trash everywhere.
A lovely stone warehouse:
A palace of culture was built in 1957 when good architecture wasn’t banned in the USSR yet. Notice the decoration above the door — it is related to mining.
Interesting but mangy residential buildings on the main street:
The street leads to the industrial zone. A specific monument has stood there since the USSR: dedicated to the first woman in space (Valentina Tereshkova) and the cruiser Aurora. Are they connected logically? No.
Finally, the quarry:
It was something fantastic from another planet that is unreal to convey through photos. Was it worth it, considering all that waited for me later? Sure!
Now, it reminds me of sulfuric springs in Iceland. But Iceland was two years later, so I purely admired it without any associations.
Heavy machinery was sleeping far away. The quarry is active, and walking there is forbidden. But I had enough views from the top.
I was one of the pioneers of this place. My photos were taken on a cheap camera in poor weather. Now, many tour operators include it in their trips to these destinations. Insta-girls take a lot of photos with fantastic azure lakes. They omit the town and don’t suspect what is near. I didn’t suspect it, either.
But I noticed many vagrants and drunk people on the town streets even in the morning. One of them tried to speak with me with a tricky smile, probably wanting to beg for money in any way. I escaped quickly, making my first conclusions about this place, but I didn’t make the only possible correct decision to go home immediately.
The second village, Hurivtsi, looked more oppressive. It was a time when life stopped in the countryside. No people were on the streets, and there was not even a shop where I wanted to buy more food. It was a place to die because of constant hopelessness.
There were no photos of the local church on the internet, and I was glad to see it was adorable.
Because there are no other reasons to visit this place. Only emptiness and greyness. I felt lost in nothing while walking in fields between villages.
Well, I wouldn’t be myself without a few more photos.
I returned to the railway and planned to walk to the third village parallel to the rails. The smaller Hlukhivtsi is a station settlement with a population of only 56 people. I needed to reach it, see the station building, and take the train home.
I passed some distance from the town when two local guys caught up with me. I recalled seeing them in the center in the morning. Moreover, they also saw me and knew that I was alone. It had to alert me, but it didn’t look dangerous initially. We talked briefly about some neutral themes. I was only upset because they were going in the same direction and distracting me. Then, their questions became more specific.
“Can you give us some money for cigarettes?” asked one of them. Sure, I could because I had no options. I gave them the money from my pocket — it wasn’t a big problem. “And give me your phone; I need to call,” he continued.
My old cheap Android seemed to be dying frequently — sometimes, I couldn’t hear people while calling, or they couldn’t hear me. But I felt sorry to give it just like that. I began to retreat; they were approaching. Finally, I put my hand in my pocket but took pepper spray instead of the phone and shot at the younger dude’s face.
Still, the other one knocked me down. A fight started; three bodies were rolling in mud when they tried to reach my phone, but they couldn’t until I gave it to them. So we stood up again face to face. Their mood was different. The guy with burned eyes rushed to me with a desire to break my face. But the other was in good humor, and I even managed to beg back the SIM card.
There was nothing to do anymore. The attackers left me and went to the tiny village where I had planned to go. I don’t love to omit travel points so much that I had to suppress my desire to go in the same direction despite them. But returning to the town station was a better idea.
Lost money wasn’t trouble because most of it was in a well-hidden pocket. Keeping the SIM card avoided many problems. Finally, on the way to the station, I realized that my camera was still in the inner pocket of my jacket. I used a cheap Nikon, even smaller than the smartphone, and forgot about it, and they didn’t even know.
Before the train arrived, I had enough time to return to human form using wet wipes and a water bottle. I thought they could come back to me. I calmed down only when people started to gather at the station.
Despite so many adverse events, I couldn’t say I felt complete fear. Annoyance— yes! Because I allowed such a situation. Because I started to fight for the cheap phone (if they’d had a knife or something like that, it could have ended much worse for me).
Furthermore, I felt anger toward the locals at the station, who saw that I was in trouble but pretended that everything was OK.
That day was an expensive experience. I started to plan my trips more carefully to avoid such situations again, learning about places to visit and making thoughtful routes. I’m sure it saved me from similar situations in the future.
The real fear visited me in the evening when I was at home and thought about everything terrible that passed. At least I kept my camera and photos. I copied them to the laptop and noticed one video file among them. What? I didn’t record anything.
I opened the file. The video had a black screen, but what a sound it had! As it turned out, the recording button was randomly clicked when I fell to the ground, and the camera recorded the sound of our fight. It was so long and so frightening. Fuss, moans, curses, cries — all mixed up.
I didn’t expect a few of my life’s worst minutes to materialize this way. After all the turmoil of that day, this little drop finished me off. I removed the file with fear and disgust and never told anybody about it — until today.
I’ll never return to the smaller Hlukhivtsi to take a photo of the beautiful abandoned station building. No, thanks. It is little known as almost everything there: I found only a couple of its photos online.
Since then, I have primarily walked in unfamiliar cities or villages, starting from the outskirts and moving toward the central parts. I canceled many plans that contained hikes in places similar to the one in this story, especially near railways or other industrial zones.
Some spots are exciting but aren’t worth the possible risks. Nevertheless, those spots still live on my travel wish list. One day, I’ll forget that fear and rush to uncertainty, moving only by irrational, dangerous curiosity.
Robberies while traveling can be obvious but can be hidden, as happened with Laura-Liisa Klaas.
I have the same painfully familiar feeling when something goes wrong: I had to act this way, not that… By Bell:
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