Tonight our hosts took us to a traditional Ukrainian dinner. It was very good food, quite hearty, with portions that would have been fine if I was a tauntaun. In fact, after Will was done eating, I was considering slicing him open to stay warm in the Kiev streets. He does, indeed, smell bad on the outside.

At one point during dinner, they brought us some bread slices with a viscous white topping. I inquired with our host:

“What is that white stuff?”

“It is,” he said in a thick Russian accent, “like bacon without meat part.”

“Whaaa?” I said, working it out in my head. “Oh.”

After that, we walked over to Independance Square where I got this night shot as the traffic rolled through the streets.

I made it to Kiev, and it is perhaps the slipperiest city in the world. It could be colder, but I don’t know how.

No matter which way I walked, the snow and wind beat into my face like a sandstorm combined with a monsoon combined with my mother-in-law’s attitude. The other Ukrainians and wayward Russian wives were walking around without hats like it was normal. Will and I wanted to dress up in our Spies-Like-Us-winter-garb, but we haven’t found where to buy that yet.

Here is a shot of the opera house in the middle of the snowstorm. That little blip up there on the left is a snowflake that had the inconsiderate vector to land on my lens.

The large version of this one is a little dizzying.