Our Escape from the Ukraine


The invasion of the Russian troops in Kyiv and our escape

Picture above: 19.02.22 - peaceful days in Kyiv, 5 days before the war.
Below: 25.02.22. - we are in the escape train, dreaming for survival.

I am writing these lines in my brother's house in Schwarzhofen, a small town in southern Germany. My girlfriend Danica and I are now safe. We managed to escape from the war.

Before I start my report, here is the short previous history.

Back story briefly

In December 2019, I left for India on a one-year tourist visa. I was already there about ten years ago. I really enjoyed the winter in the tropics. I was eager to repeat this unforgettable experience. Unlike last time, I had a stable source of income. Since many years being Migration Agent I help those, who wanna move to Germany. My main contractor was (and still is) a Berlin based company "Blue Card Agency" (BCA Relocation GmbH).

I did not want a "backpacker trip". Actually, I just wanted to move my workplace to a pleasant environment. But I also had a "secret mission". After ten years of a bachelor's life, I wanted so much to find a woman to spend the rest of my life happily.

So it happened, but in a very unexpected way. Her name was Danica and she did not live in India but in the Philippines. Because of COVID, we could not meet for almost two years. I as a foreign tourist was not allowed to enter the Philippines, she was not allowed to leave because the exit policy there is extremely strict.

Finally, Dani managed to leave for India with a medical visa. I picked her up in the New Delhi airport and brought her to me in Daramshala, a small town at the foot of the Himalayas. Our plan was to apply for a visa at the nearest German consulate to get married in Germany.

In the meantime, the COVID situation in India has improved and international air traffic was functioning again. The Indian migration authorities kindly asked me to leave the country soon. We went to Armenia, because this country had issued a 4-month visa for Dani very uncomplicated and cheap. On the 27th of November we landed in Yerevan and two days later Dani was already in the German embassy.

However, her visa application was not accepted because she did not have a long-term stay in Armenia. In the following weeks, all other European and Balkan countries reacted in the same way. As soon as it turned out that Dani is in Armenia with an eVisa, they said "visa application not possible". Finally, the Embassy of Serbia responded with a very friendly and promising email. Dani can come to Kyiv with a tourist e-visa to apply for a long-term D visa to Serbia. This was like a bright ray in the darkness. Two weeks later, on January 25, we landed in Kyiv and on the same day we were in the Embassy of Serbia in Kyiv. After three weeks they told us that visa was refused, but it is another story. The fact is that we were counting so much on life in Serbia that we didn't have a plan B while living in Kyiv. After Serbia's refusal we were in a bottle neck - no country wanted to accept a Filipina. Moldova, Turkey, Belarus, Israel - all these options have failed. What to do?

And now the story begins.

Day 1. Invasion

24.Feb. 2022

Early in the morning around 7 o'clock knocked on the door. It was Ludmila, our landlady (we have been renting a room from her for three weeks). I asked her to come in. She entered slowly. With effort she said: "Today the real war has started". I didn't want to believe my ears and stared at her.

"Several cities attacked. There are heavy battles very close by. Browary (a district of Kyiv) has been bombed." She walked out of the room. Everything was spinning before my eyes. The mind did not want to accept that "the real war" had started. I turned on my smartphone and typed something like "Deutsche Welle war in Ukraine". To my admiration, there were very few reports of it. Most of the reports were dated last days.

The doorbell rang. Dmitry, Ludmila's fifty-year-old son, entered to discuss the evacuation organization. After a quick breakfast they both left. We also wanted to have breakfast and to inquire at the German Embassy how the evacuation of German citizens was organized. I ran downstairs to buy fresh bread. To my surprise, there were queues of people in front of the stores. It will surely take one or more hours, I thought and hurried back to the apartment. Our apartment is on the 12th floor. But now I had no confidence to use an elevator. The electricity could be cut off at any moment. My mobile connection stopped working. Fortunately, I could still use the mobile internet.

I rushed into the apartment: "Dani! Let's have breakfast, pack everything we need in two small backpacks and go to the embassy. The embassy is no longer reachable by phone.

Outside, the street has emptied in the meantime. In the early morning we saw a huge traffic jam from our apartment on the 12th floor. We didn't have time to wait for the bus. I turned on the Uber app. But all the rides were shut down. It all seemed kind of worrying. Finally the "marshrutka" (a small bus, a kind of shared taxi for many people) came. The first time in Kyiv we saw a completely empty marshrutka. We got on. Half an hour later we were at the "Pochajna" metro station. On the way we didn't notice anything worrying, except for two things - long queues at petrol stations (one-two hundred cars on every station) and many small stores next to the metro station were closed.

The metro was working, though. And it was free of charge. A short time later we were standing in front of the German embassy. The colorful building was closed. Not even security was to be seen there. The note on the door announced that the German citizens should take care of the evacuation themselves.

India, Dharamsala, 2021

Closed German Embassy in Kyiv. The embassy has already been evacuated. Everything was taken away, even the German flag.

Translation: Dear German Landsmen,
the Embassy is temporarily closed. Evacuation by German authorities is currently not possible. If you would like to leave the country, please check if this is possible in a safe way.
Hotline for Germans: +49 030 5000 3000.

I was surprised that the embassy was already evacuated. After all, Russian troops have already marched into the so-called Donetsk Republic days ago. But I couldn't believe that there was no escape help on site.

We were looking for banks to pick up the cash. One day before I have sent some money to Dani from my German account via Western Union. But all banks were closed. There were waiting lines in front of ATMs. We met a French couple. The woman looked like a Japanese or Korean. We noticed that she was afraid and close to panic. We hugged each other. She clearly made an effort not to burst into tears. Her voice was trembling.

Slowly, I realized that the situation was serious. But at that time I did not imagine that she was much more serious.

In a business center I opened my laptop and made another money transfer, this time not cash, but to Dani's bank so she could withdraw with her credit card. Money was sent within a few minutes - thanks to Western Union! We had cash and rushed home to do a PCR test. In the evening of the next day (February 25) we would be able to leave, we hoped.

In the metro we saw some young people who, besides their civilian clothes, were wearing Kalashnikovs and helmets. Around them were other guys and girls, probably friends and relatives. They were smiling and behaving as if everything was not so bad.

I sneaked a look at Dani. I knew she was scared. But she didn't show it. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Quickly we were at home, but we didn't have time to eat, because the nearest laboratory "Sinevo" closed half an hour later.
"Do you think the planes will fly tomorrow?" - asked Dani? I said that the air traffic was stopped until midnight. But at 10 pm there should be an announcement whether it would be possible to fly tomorrow. "But I would do PCR test anyway", I added, "because I will not forgive myself if the flights fly again and we would not be allowed on board because of missing PCR test."

We went out of the house and were already close to the lab when my brother Vasilij called me via Whatsapp. "Slavik, what are you thinking? I am more than sure that air transport will not work tomorrow or next days. You will not be able to fly anywhere. Don't waste money on PCR test, grab your things, run to the main train station and then to the western border at any cost. If there are no tickets to Lviv, just go anywhere, just get away from Kyiv". Something in his voice made a very convincing impression. I promised to follow his advice as soon as possible. We turned around and hurried home. A few minutes later, just outside the house, the doorbell rang again, this time my mother. She started to accuse me why I did not leave earlier. Mom! - I shouted desperately, - your speeches are right, but they do not help to find ways out! Pray for us that we will leave the country alive."

"Then go to the church and pray to God to protect you on the way". We followed this advice, because there was a church nearby. When we came out of the church it was noticeable to me that the surroundings seemed quiet. A little less people on the street than usual, otherwise everything as usual. Back to reality: a small bakery shined with absolutely empty shelves. The very first thing that was sold away earlier in the morning was the bread and other pastries, the saleswoman told us.

At home we looked critically at our luggage. I decided to take some warm things, the sleeping bag and my yoga mat. Dani tried to persuade me to take her rolling suitcase. But I was not willing to compromise. The suitcase stays here. Elsewhere, we will most likely have it thrown away at the run. Half an hour later I ignored Dani's arguments, she doesn't want to walk from the 12th floor with the luggage. "Dani! I don't want to give the smallest chance that we get stuck in the elevator in case of electricity cut". Fortunately, Dani quickly agreed.

Outside it had become dark in the meantime. There were no buses again. But there were a few people standing on the stop. I checked Uber again. This time it was even worse - "All rides cancelled". We started stopping passing cars. But no one wanted to stop. Suddenly, a woman who was also waiting at the stop spoke to us, "I called my spouse. He will be here soon. We can give you a ride to the one metro station." We breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed shortly after, we were sitting in a Japanese jeep. Everyone was silent. The radio was playing live reports of fighting around Kyiv and other cities. I felt a very uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Memories of reports from the war in Yugoslavia came to my mind. But I realized that I must not give in to this fear. When you are on the edge of panic, you are almost lost. I tried to focus on the train tickets. I wondered if there were still tickets for today's trains. What to do if everything is booked?

Our do-gooders let us off at the metro station "Politech Institute". They didn't want any money. However, I pressed some money into his hand despite protestations, because it was clear that on the next days the prices will jump up. We said goodbye and hurried to the Metro.

To the station "Vokzalnaya" (main station) had to go only one stop. At the downside, the metro was full. Most people were there, though, not to continue their journey, but to seek shelter. Because the metro is bombproof.

There was activity in the station square. Many refugees rushed back and forth. But there was no panicked atmosphere. At least I didn't feel that. The station was full of people. We queued up at a single open ticket office. Amazingly, the queue was not very long. After about 40 minutes it was my turn. But the news was bad. No tickets for the next three days. The box office closed. The cashier said that there were three ticket offices open in the other hall. Without much hope we rushed there with other people.

In the other hall after waiting in a new queue it only was confirmed: no tickets for next days. When you are "guarding" near the to the ticket window, there are no tickets for the next days.

My smartphone buzzed. Gianni, one of my Berlin friends, was calling me. He knew that I and Dani were in Ukraine and was very worried. I asked him to book tickets online with me at the same time, try to find any other option, such as a long-distance bus. Gianni and Pepe got to work, but all the bus companies were either fully booked or unreachable.

In the queue I met a girl who was an au pair in Lower Saxony a few years ago. Her name was Anastasia and she spoke fluent German. Her host family at that time asked her to run away to them. Anastasia had a long-distance bus ticket for next morning. But she was afraid if tomorrow it would be possible to pass between battles. That is why she came to the station. Her efforts were not successful. Free tickets were available only for March 1.

Anasstasia said that in an hour it would be 10 p.m. and the curfew would begin. The station building was not safe for overnight stay. Her suggestion was that the we should go to a safe place or hide in the metro station. We went to the metro entrance, which was not even a hundred meters from the station.

On the poorly lighted station square, I noticed that small snack bars and kiosks were all closed. Machdonalds was also closed, lights off. It seemed kind of scary because Macdonalds is otherwise always open. On the way to Metro we saw a long queue - only two sorts of unappetizing looking pastries remained in the tiny stall. Thank God there was another open kiosk. There were still many kinds of sausages, chocolate bars, chips and similar snacks, also soft drinks and alcoholic beverages. The queue was much smaller because the prices were high. Whether the prices were extra doubled or as ummer (because at the station the food is always a little more expensive) I can not say. We supplied ourselves with water, chocolate, rusks and cottage cheese.

The metro station was lit, the escalators worked. Deep down (42 meters below the earth's surface), on platforms there was no crowding but there were still many people seeking safety underground. The traffic worked. Metro trains came and went every five minutes. New people with luggage and pets arrived and rushed upstairs, to the station.

Night in the Metro

Bild 5: Dani in the metro on the way to the main station.

The metro station was lit, the escalators worked. Deep down (42 meters below the earth's surface), on platforms there was no crowding but there were still many people seeking safety underground. The traffic worked. Metro trains came and went every five minutes. New people with luggage and pets arrived and rushed upstairs, to the station.

The station was full of people going nowhere. They stood and sat on the floor. They were probably taking protection from air attacks here. There was no crowding, so we were able to find ourselves two square meters of free space on the platform. Fortunately, I had my yoga mat with me. Although thin, however, it gave some insulation from the cold granite floor. We were hungry but we could not relax. Again and again we updated the website of Ukrainian railroads in the hope of an additional train. Again and again we tried to find some bus company where there would be free seats. In Berlin my friends Gianni and Pepe also tried to find the flight possibilities to Slovakia, Romania, Moldova and to buy tickets. No luck...

At the metro station it was announced that the train service would be suspended until tomorrow morning. Two trains arrived at platforms and opened their doors. We were invited to make ourselves comfortable on the seats. The station had no heating but it was not really cold. The girls fell asleep, I continued to look for tickets on the Internet. Late at night I wanted to go to the toilet. Fortunately, it was possible to use the staff toilet.

The attitude of the people

I was very impressed with how quiet it was on the station. The people behaved in a disciplined manner. There was no shouting, no loud swearing. Only one drunk clochard (you could tell by his clothes) tried to yell around, but no one wanted to argue with him. Women asked to stop the swearing. Surprisingly, he also quickly became quiet.

Everything felt calm. As far as it could be calm in such a situation. There was a patient queue for the toilet. The station staff shared hot water. Later they offered their own tea supplies. I filled the thermos with hot water. Then I went back to Dani and Anastasia. I tried to sleep, getting "comfortable" on a thin yoga mat. It got a little cold, but tired from the experience, I fell asleep quickly.

Day 2. In "runaway express"

25. Feb. 2022

I slept uneasy. It was on the edge with cold, my sleeping bag had Dani, the car floor was hard. At least it was not as cold as granite slabs. I had tangled and intense dreams.

At 6 o'clock the loudspeaker voice had asked to leave the trains. Anastasia went upstairs. We agreed to meet at the station next to the international ticket counters. Shortly after that, we were also in the train station. It was warm in the hall. There were many people again. The queues at the ticket offices were however not big. But the tickets were still available only from March 1. Some lady ran up to the ticket office and with a pleading voice inquired about tickets - "I am a German citizen... Do you perhaps have something reserved for foreigners?" The station employee behind the counter shook her head. was the same employee who worked here at night. I wonder if she hasn't been sleeping all night.

I started a conversation with this German woman.Her name was Klara. She also spoke good Russian. She said she had a car.She asked us to flee Ukraine together. With her car. Since there were no maps, I briefly wondered if we could make 670 kilometers by car through the country at war... Both of us, Klara and I, have driver's licenses and can take shifts driving. But the car doesn't even have a full tank of gas. Will we find fuel on the way? How many dangers are waiting for us, if we drive alone through the Ukrainian winter...

Klara, - I said, - your plan is too risky. We can try it only as a last chance. Let's go to the train and beg the conductor to take us without tickets.
"I can't... I have my smartphone and stuff at home... Not far from here. Can you wait for me?"
"Please understand me right. I can't promise you that I will wait for you. Hurry up. And God help you." Klara hurried home.

Suddenly I felt a strange impulse. I tried to concentrate. I tried to understand the Ukrainian words that the loudspeaker was mumbling. "On the platform blablabla ( inaudible ) boarding starts to the Intercity Express blablabla ( inaudible ) ... Przemyśl. The departure of the train at 6:50."

Most of such announcements were ignored by me. Because we don't have tickets, because it was unclear and in the Ukrainian language, which I couldn't fully understand. But this announcement somehow resonated with me. There were few minutes left until departure. I ran back to our luggage. Thank God, Dani was ready to go. We grabbed our stuff and rushed to platform two. There was indeed a European-looking train waiting there. An African in front of us said something to the conductor next to the entrance of the train. He nodded. The African got on. We followed him. Dani was very afraid that we would be pushed out of the train because we have no tickets. I was also worried, but tried to keep a calm mood.

In the train

In the train car, to my great admiration, there was no crowding. On the contrary! There was a good third of all seats free. We made ourselves comfortable on the softly upholstered seats. I got off again and went to see the conductor. Will he accept the fare in cash? At that moment the train started. Newly boarded passengers stood in gangways. The loudspeaker voice asked to take free seats and to have travel documents ready. There was no conductor to be seen. From time to time, uniformed train personnel rushed to hand out small plastic bottles of drinking water. I approached some new boarders. They didn't have tickets either. That made me feel a little better.

Two hours passed. The train rolled quickly toward the west. We felt a huge sense of relief. Still, our situation was uneasy. Dani tried to stay calm and cool, but I knew that she has a great fear of having difficulties when leaving the country and also when entering Poland.

Khmelnytskyi Pic. 6. Station Khmelnytskyi

The train stopped rarely and shortly, only 1-2 minutes. It was pleasant for us. Because it was still far to the Polish border. After the tiring night in the metro we soon fell asleep. Nobody woke us up. No conductor asked for the tickets. The App MAPS.ME showed that we were already near the city of Khmelnitsky. I immediately checked all Whatsapp and Telegram messages.

The News was good to the point that none of my friends and relatives were hurt. I breathed a sigh of relief. Nevertheless, the situation looked quite gloomy.

Our new friend Anasstasia who left the metro station before us thought that we were still in the metro. She wrote: "Don't go out, something loud flew over station here. Everyone has been sent to the underground."

Our friend Sweta also sent us a Telegram message:

Bild 7.

Translation: Tanks in the streets of Kyiv. We are just outside, next to the bomb shelter. We hear Machine gun shooting in Obolon [Kyiv city district].

We move on. A huge stone has fallen from my soul. The farther Kyiv is behind us, the better I feel. Dani maybe worried, but does not show it. We smile and try to tell jokes, so that we don't let the situation depress us so much.

Bahnhof Ternopil

Another Telegram messages from Sweta:

Translation: We woke up [from explosions] at 4 AM. We saw this falling fighter jet. However, the video recording is shot from another place (not by me].

Lviv (Lemberg)

We finally reach the Lviv train station. We are waiting for quite a long time. Many people get off, many get on. Whether they all have tickets is unclear. We invite an old woman to sit with us on a two-seater. She smiles but always looks to the side. Poor lady! Who knows what worries she carries inside.

Uniformed women walk through the train, young, sporty, around 30-40 years old. They are looking for deserters. From time to time the voice from the wagon loudspeaker says "All men between 18 and 60 are asked to leave the train. You will not be allowed to leave Ukraine." Thank God it does not apply to me, because I am not Ukrainian. But I see one or another man being escorted to the exit with such a deserter hunter. Some of them do not want to leave their seats. But no one offers strong resistance.

Finally we are moving on. The train is now full. There are more refugees than seats. People are standing in the gangways. The train cafeteria is closed, there is no food. There are only three large bottles of drinking water. Two volunteers fill the plastic bottles brought by passengers with water.

My friends, who knew that I am in Ukraine, send me the encouraging words via Whatsapp and Telegram. I assure them, but remain worried myself when I think about my friends and relatives who remain in Ukraine. People are scared but most of them can't escape - too little money, too old parents, men are not allowed to cross the border.

I don't want to look for official news anymore. Because my Ukrainian friends forward me enough photos, short reports and videos. As expected, there are some armed people plundering the stores. Caught by army, they are arrested or shot on the site. These videos are too cruel to publish here.

Ukraine-Poland border crossing

Przemyśl, Poland Bild 8. Przemyśl, Poland

After two hours ride from Lviv, the train stops just before the border. Again and again the deserter hunters go through the train. Then the same uniformed women check all the passengers again and stamp the passports. When it is Dani's turn, I give the border guard both of our passports at the same time. She carefully checks them and puts the departure stamps. There is no mention of the fine for three days of visa overstay. Dani breathes a sigh of relief. "Poland will let you in, don't worry" - I whisper in her ear. She nods and tries to smile but I see that she is still not relaxed.

We stand for a very long time - more than four hours. That is twice as much as the way from Lviv. The Ukrainian mobile phone works. But mobile Internet doesn't work anymore. Communication is cut off. I read from the Bible. Dani is lost in thoughts. She tries to sleep but the anxiety doesn't seem to let go.The deserter hunters (and at the same time border guards) are gone. However, the train does not go on. People are tired. Emotionless. I quess everyone is very relieved, because we have almost managed to leave the country. We understand that it is better to wait in the train than outside in the frost.

Finally the train moves on. In a few minutes it stops. We get off. It is very cold outside. We wait in the queue in front of the Polish customs building.

Dani Border Stamps Armenia, Ukraine

Photo 9. Ukraine good-bye. Welcome in Poland!

Formalities are minimalized - officer holds Dani's Filipino passport on the scanner, smiles tiredly and nods towards the exit.

The small square in front of the railway station is poorly illuminated. There are good 80-100 people. One spreads doughnut pastries. We hear announcements: Warsaw, Krakow, Berlin, Prague... Prague! It's a good idea! Vasilij, my brother, is waiting for us. Yes, I have good friends in Berlin. But we will visit them later. Tired from the last days we decide to go directly to Bavaria to Vasilij. Prague is a good choice, because Vasilij lives near the Czech border.

I ask how much two tickets to Prague will cost. "Beskoshtovno!" laughs the guy. Free of charge. What a good surprise! Half an hour later we are sitting in the Volskwagen van from Strabag car rental. Our driver's name is Natasha. She is also between 30 and 40, serious and concentrated. We with Dani sit in the front. In the salon sit four other young Ukrainian women. The bus rolls to the highway. We are very happy. And very tired, too. It was an endlessly long day. We fell asleep. The last thing I remember is our driver Natasha drinking Red Bull Energy Drink...

Day 3. In Europe


I wake up. It is still night. Maybe 2 or 3 AM. Our van is parked in a parking area. Natasha is asleep sitting up. She has a very uncomfortable position. My legs hurt a bit because I can't stretch them. But after the previous sleepless night I quickly fall back to sleep...

My next wake up is at a petrol station. Czech Republic! Natasha buys us coffee. It is from a machine, but tastes very good. Dani is thrilled. She likes the coffee. We eat sweet bread and continue our journey.


Shortly after 12 noon we are in the center of Prague. Our minibus stops next to a charity organization. I have forgotten its name. People are very friendly. I ask where we can exchange Ukrainian money for Czech. They laugh. Someone press 2000 Korunas (CZK) into my hand. But I cannot accept that. Because we have money. I try to give the good man our Ukrainian money - two and a half thousand hryvna. We certainly won't need it. He rejects and I just leave it on the seat next to driver.

We ask for the way to the main station... They tell us it's a small walk from here. However they can drive us there. And in a few minutes we load our backpacks in front of the underground entrance Prague main station. The minibus disappears and we look at each other. We have almost made it! We are in Prague! In the old beautiful Prague!

Inside the station everything looks almost like in Germany. Signs and loudspeakers inform travelers in Czech, English and German languages. In the travel center we buy two tickets for the next train. It leaves in an hour and stops in Schwandorf. We do not have to change trains. Perfect. In a cafeteria we drink Earlgrey tea and take out health insurance. In Germany, it is mandatory to have health insurance. Without health insurance you are not allowed to enter Germany.

The 2000 Korunas are enough for everything - for tickets to Germany, for drinking tea, also for a little shopping - fruit and bread rolls. There is even some left over. We board the train. There are hardly any people inside. But there is free WiFi. We reassure our family members. We also exchange news with our friends in Kyiv.

The news from Ukraine is horrible. In many cities of Ukraine there are battles going on.


The way to the German border takes about one and a half hours. Dani doesn't even notice that we are already in Germany. The first German train station comes. The train rolls on. There is a lot of forest around us. In between there are some country houses and settlements. Everything looks very accurate, clean, cute. Dani is excited! This is like Switzerland! - she thrills. At least how I imagine Switzerland.

Our coach is almost empty - a young woman from Holland next to us, an Arab-looking young man nearby, and maybe a few people in the background. We eat. Dani has prepared well for us. We even have hot Earlgray in the Thermos. I see German conductor. He is accompanied by people in uniform. Oha! It is not a conductor, it is the police. I panically think that dark-skinned Dani might be too noticeable. I quickly consider whether she should put on the Covid mask. But we're eating... Okay... I unleash the situation.

Police officers approach. They are greeting us. "Good afternoon." We nod and also say "good afternoon." Without further ado, they move on. Straight to our neighbor. He is indeed an Arab. The police check his papers. They speak dialect. I understand only some fragments... "Residence permit expired... where do you live? What did you do in the Czech Republic? The young man blushes. He speaks very broken German. He is obviously very nervous. I wonder if his papers are really in okay?

We have finished eating. The police are still by the guy. I don't want them to get to the idea of checking Dani. She doesn't have a visa, in the end. Only the Ukrainian-Polish border crossing stamp. To be on the safe side, I send her away to take out the garbage and wash the dishes.Dani calmly walks to the wagon exit. Either she is not afraid or she controls herself well. She makes a confident impression. A policeman looks at her briefly, but says nothing.

The police move on. They did not take the young man with them. I am curious. I sit down with him and ask if he can continue his journey? Or does he have to leave Germany. He really doesn't speak German, but Arabic. Not even English. I hear the announcement "next station Schwandorf". We take our backpacks to the exit. All journeys should now hopefully be behind us, at least for some time.

We get out of the train and enter the station building. I already was told that we will be picked up by our mutual friend Andy. However, our train was late. I wonder if Andy was still there. But he was there of course! We hug each other. Dani introduces herself in German. However, she can't really speak German yet.

It is about half an hour's drive to our destination - Schwarzhofen. We chat with Andy and the time passes quickly. Finally we are approaching our destination. We roll on the Market square and see "Gallery VKUS". We get out of the car. I am excited and happy. Last time I saw my brother more than two years ago, before I left for India.

I wouldn't describe the happy meeting with my brother. Our journey ended. Ended? Probably not, because Dani still has to be legalized. And it is still open where we settle down.

Happy End?

Story of our escape has a temporary happy ending. But the same cannot be said about the people in Ukraine. For them, hell continues.

Soldiers on both sides continue to die. Civilians die. Old and young, women and men. Houses continue to be destroyed. People sleep in cramped cold underground cells because your house can be hit by a missile any second. Transportation is stopped. In stores you have to wait in line for hours. And the end of the war is not in sight at the moment. God let the war stop.

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1. アント (22.03.22) #

Hey slav!こんばんは What a journey! Just like a movie. I'm happy you are safe and I pray to God Dani can get some legalisation. Keep in touch .