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Natalia Antonova (@NataliaAntonova) is having a rough time of it. For most of this year, the Ukrainian-born, US-raised, ethnically Russian journalist and playwright has expected the worst and then been granted it. Crimea. East Ukraine. MH17. While Western correspondents condemn
Ilyichevsk is not a glamorous place. Twenty kilometres south of Odessa, on the coast of the Black Sea, it is a complex of cranes and concrete wharves, shipping containers and semi-trailers. A line of the latter, a kilometre long, waits
One descends the steps of Kharkiv’s train station to a Soviet-era square with post-Soviet pretensions. Ukraine’s azure-and-yellow is teaming with Poland’s red-and-white next month, in what was originally seen as a boon to the former’s EU prospects, to co-host the
I hadn’t been in Ukraine for 10 minutes before I was forced to bribe its officials. “You don’t have the necessary paperwork,” the border guard said. This was a lie and we both knew it, but we also both knew
The road to Pripyat, Chernobyl’s long-abandoned city, runs through a budding forest. The pines here are all relatively young; the original forest died from radiation poisoning more than a quarter-century ago. You may be able to decontaminate city streets to