After crossing into Ukraine a while round 3 PM on the twelfth of November, 2012, I shortly made my approach down the street and as distant from the border as I may presumably get earlier than working right into a roadside orchard for an evening of untamed tenting. After strolling my bike for a number of minutes by way of an countless maze of berry bushes and apple timber, I discovered a spot to pitch my tent and quiet down for the evening. After I awakened the subsequent morning (and day-after-day after for the next three weeks), Ukraine was coated in a thick, moist, freezing chilly fog that restricted my visibility and made the whole lot chilly, damp and downright depressing. I used to be in Ukraine… and winter had lastly discovered me.