Strolling around Kyiv at night to the songs of The Neighbourhood.
It’s late June,the warm summer air, the middle of the night, but the city is wide awake. A highlight of my outfit back then was a tiny purse just for my keys, phone, and a crumpled 200-hryvnia note tucked under the case for tipping. Now, my basic going-out kit includes passport, a charger, a power bank, and some cash, just in case something happens.
Me, my tiny purse,and a circle of close friends I used to see almost every day. We were walking through central Kyiv not because we wanted to save money on a taxi, but because that walk was our little ritual. At one point, I got tired, and we all just laydown right on the pavement to rest, look at the stars, and listen to the city.
Kyiv, the city that never ‘closes’, keeps changing seasons, shifting its clocks, growing, living and inviting you to live in the present moment. My friend said, ‘If you’re tired, let’s call a cab and go home.’ Of course, I refused. How could you stroll around Kyiv at night and not stay to see the sunrise by the river?
That summer walk still echoes inside me, whenever I catch myself thinking, ‘I have to get back home before curfew,’ or ‘No, can’t meet tonight, I need to get to the left bank,’ or ‘Air raid alert — time to get out of the city centre.’
Living in the present moment has been replaced by fear. And those night strolls around the city remain etched in my memory, like personal music videos to songs by TheNeighbourhood.
