4 Days, many checkpoints.

We awoke groggy eyed at 6am that morning double checked all the equipment and were ready to go by 7am. We had decided to go it alone as our secondary translator dropped out last minute as he was afraid of the situation. Our smiling driver was there on time with a fag in his mouth, after packing the car up we left but not before loading up on fuel, coffee, water and cigarettes. Finally we were on the road to Slaviansk, it was not long until we ran into our first checkpoint outside Mariupol where John was quick to give away our first packet of cigarettes even though the soldier only really wanted one. The guards were friendly and even allowed us to film and take a few photos, but not for long. The heat was excruciating and it made you feel sorry for the soldiers exposed throughout the day wearing bullet proof vests, helmets and fatigues.

It wasn't long before we were back on the road again and we soon realised that checkpoints were going to become a big part of the trip. Not only this but our driver Pavel decided to get a little too close to a military escort vehicle resulting in the soldiers in the back pointing their weapons at us and telling us to back off. This gave us a hint of what may be in store for us in the next few days. Pavel was very worried about separatists stealing his car and causing us problems so we were forced to take a plethora of different back roads which added a considerable amount of time to the journey. Despite Pavels paranoia of land mines he still seemed eager to drive us through fields on several occasions often resulting in hasty 3 point turns and another cigarette being lit.

Despite the long journey and multiple checkpoints. The trip flew by and was punctuated by beautiful fields of sunflowers, wheat fields and traditional villages. After only seeing industrial cities it was nice to see another side of Ukraine. Which was lucky as we spent a fair amount of time being lost and struggled to find Alexandrika the final stop on our alternative route to Slaviansk, we probably saw the same grain silo over 10 times but eventually we were on the right track. The Daewoo, fitted out with 1 racing seat, rally steering wheel and gear knob, along with multiple bumps and scratches was testament to Pavel's love for driving, he regularly tops 150 kms per hour which is astonishing considering the tank track ravaged Ukrainian roads.

After 7 hours we rolled up expectantly to the Slaviansk entry checkpoint. After what seemed like hundreds of previous checkpoints we were slightly overconfident with the ease in of entry. The Ukrainian checkpoint guards had other ideas, they checked our SBU accreditation and after an hour came back with the bad news that we were not accredited. We moved back from the entry point and parked up in the shade sweating furiously. A girl one of us had met on tinder happened to be a news correspondent and had given us a number to call incase we needed help with accreditation. It turns out that only Bohdan had his SBU accreditation processed.  Bastard.  We hung about talking to our contacts and trying to resolve the situation, It took hours. Pavlo took over dealing with military attaches  and generals while Elliott returned to the wheat fields with his camera until he without thinking broke the first rule of checkpoints and pointed it in the direction of the military. First rule of checkpoints: nobody photographs the checkpoints. Second rule of the checkpoints: nobody photographs checkpoints.

A furious soldier shouted at Elliott and Bohdan and pointed his Kalashnikov at them and ordered Elliott to comply and he heroically had to delete 2 days worth of photos and footage.  Elliott was then forced to change his underwear as another three hours passed dealing with bureaucratic problems as night begin to fall.

Two locals appeared out of the dark and tried to cross the border but were forced to wait, the mood quickly intensified and the darkness accentuated the real venerability of the checkpoints to attack, they were ordered to drop what they were carrying and slowly approach the checkpoint, they asked us what was going on but we knew as much as them. The situation continued to escalate until with Pavel's insistence a general called through and gave us clearance to head into the crazy city of Slavyansk.

The drive into and through Slavyansk was surreal and a reality check.  We were concerned about accommodation and so Pavel talked to a garage worker whilst mortar fire broke out not far from our location. This put us on edge and was accentuated by the outbreak of machine gun fire behind us, (which surreally turned out to be fireworks). We all panicked in the standard manner but the absurdity of this coincidence relaxed us greatly as we laughed it off. The situation settled and we headed into the birzzarre world of Slaviansk. Tram wires were down and the electricity was non existent throughput the city, the streets were empty and was a real representation of a city torn apart by war.We headed on advice to the Hotel Ukraiina where we negotiated a room in the darkness of the night. There were other photographers staying at the hotel one of them had been there since the fighting started and seemed to have a lost touch with reality. The prices were still 4 star despite the fact there was no water or electricity. We bought beers and talked for a long time into the night with a pair of Ukrainian journalists we had met at the hotel.

The hotel itself would be worthy of it's own documentary, with no electricity or water and only populated by what seemed like a handful of people, sustaining their 4 star hotel image was compromised by the fact that it was necessary to carry a bucket of stagnant pool water 4 floors to use the toilet.

                            

With a room full of more mosquitos then contained in the amazon rainforest it was not a comfortable nights sleep. At around 4am John lost his mind and angrily stomped around the room shouting at the mosquitos to no avail. After Elliott valiantly went downstairs to borrow a coil we finally managed to get a minimal amount of sleep.

Initially confident about getting our accreditation. early the next day we found out we would have to wait for the documents to be properly processed. Advised by Pavel we decided to refrain from trying to film or photograph the city as we did not want to risk our chances of losing our equipment and not being able to finish the film we had come to make. Bohdan on the other hand managed to get some amazing photos of the damage that had been done during the past few months which was worth the drive around. This tour of the city gave us a better understanding of the damage wrought on Slaviansk and the determination of the people to rebuild.

Due to the hotel being too expensive and going on the recommendation of our driver. We finished our second 5 star meal of canned fish parts and crisps at a bus stop then headed out the city to a place our driver had seemed to have researched whilst in the Hotel to the town of Sviatohirsk (Sacred hills) to try and find a more suitable place to rest our heads.

The difference between here and the war torn city of Slaviansk could not be more pronounced. swallows nestled in the dense forests, with the towering hills looking over the town topped with a gigantic statue of a soldier an ode to the dead of WW2. We found a quaint complex of bungalows and after some negotiations managed to secure 2 rooms with electricity, air con and hot water for under 30 pounds a night.

Our mood brighhtened considerably after this windfall, not only this but we learned we had finally received accreditation  so we decided to have a barbecue to celebrate. After securing the last chicken legs in town, (Despite the beauty food supplies here had been effected and the odd mortar explosion could be heard in the background) Pavel set to work stoking the fire with logs and skewing the chicken. The fire took quickly and Pavel seemed to relish the opportunity. All was well until the sheer heat of the fire ignight the roof of the shelter over the BBQ. Pavel dismissed it at first but after a passer shouted that the tree was also on fire it was all hands to the pumps as we rushed with buckets to douse the growing flames after a tense 5 minutes the flames were out, to the relief of the owner and we could enjoy our food, but not after John having a paddy about everything being ready at different times. Following this Pavel drove us up to the beautiful monastery next to the river, the gleaming golden cupolas glinted in the evening light it was truly beautiful.

John got into trouble for going near a monument with shorts on and was lampooned for 5 minutes by a devout old lady on his sin.

We had a few drinks in town then retired for a well deserved nights sleep in the relevant luxury of our cabin, all in all it had been a good day.

First thing (after Pavel decided to wake up) we left for Slaviansk keen to start filming with our newly acquired accredatations. The mood seemed strange as we made our way through the checkpoints to Slaviansk. When we arrived at the entry post we were immediately turned away by an obviously nervous balaclavered soldier. We hung back from the post and tried to find out the situation from our contacts. Whilst doing this fire erupted not far away from our position and as we were peering down the road fire broke out at the checkpoint, an overly-concerned John demanded Elliot get in the car like a father on a family holiday. We all piled in as Pavel, who was keen to get away, demonstrated this concern for his car by speeding back at over 100 mph until we reached our cabin. We spent a few hours trying to find a way round but the military advised us that firefights had erupted around the region and we should stay put for our own safety. We managed to find a hotel and were able to confirm the military's caution as fighting had broken out in the city during the night. Disheartened we decided to head for the beach and luckily came across 2 displaced Slaviansk residents living in Svyatohirsk.

After the drunkest one insisted we go out on his friends boat and passionately demonstrated his love for Ukraine by spitting and chest thumping, we managed to secure an interview with his English speaking friend which turned out great. We had a few more beers then went to a local bar to watch Germany win the world cup. We later learnt that we were to go on a military escorted press tour the next day….

The next morning we set off to meet the escort in a nearby village. After another round of checkpoints we arrived at a large military base in a field. As the other network journalists arrived we began to feel distinctly inferior with our small handy cam and 40 year old tripod but it is what you do with it that counts.

We all packed up and left in convoy for a military hospital in Kramatorsk to interview a badly injured separatist tank officer. The journey through Slaviansk gave us a chance to get some great footage of the war torn city as well as the exit road where the shells of separatist tanks and APC's litter the highway. More of the wide spread damage was visible in the convoy and it really brought home the scale of the battles fought here. Elliot needed new underwear yet again after filming an unsuspecting soldier who turned a gun on him to get him to stop.

We arrived at a 50's era hospital only to find out it was the wrong hospital and spent the rest of the day driving around trying to get permission for the interview but all was to no avail. Luckily we managed to interview a military liaison officer so the day wasn't a total loss. We went for some food in the sparsely supplied city. We were only the 2nd customers of the day at the cafe and there was barely any food left.

We had arranged an interview with a doctor we had met on the beach but whilst driving there, an unmarked car pulled up in front of us and 2 special forces soldiers jumped out, rifles aimed and demanded we get out of the car. 1 of the soldiers seemed to use his gun for any kind of pointing or direction possible he probably uses the rifle to enter numbers into his phone. Bohdan said that the soldiers were radioing about 'men with beards, so John and Elliot were immediately worried that they were being targeted. (We later learnt that men with beards is military slang for suspicious persons, we concluded this could be confusing for female suspects)We contacted the military attaché to get them to explain and confirm our credentials, but the soldiers were still not happy and called the police who along with 2 more soldiers detained us while they went on their way. The police explained that they had killed 3 separatists that day, saying it was not safe in Kramatorsk and demanding we leave the city immediately which we promptly did.

We returned home and had a few beers at the beach. We met a family who ran a bar that fed refugees  and decided to film them the following day, after this we went to a cafe for a few more beers and were called over by a group of girls to play a game similar to charades (no mean feat in Russian). One of them took a shine to Elliott and we are set to meet them the next day at the beach. It will good for interviews (and potentially Elliott).