Volovets, Zakarpattia Oblast, Ukraine. A town you’ve likely never heard of unless you are Ukrainian or spent a lot of time in the Ukrainian mountains. It did briefly make international news in 2022, as the first, and so far only, settlement in Zakarpattia to be directly hit by a Russian air strike. Specifically, they targetted an electronic substation near the train station. What is there to see or do? Well, nothing in the town really. But it’s a transport link, which you will likely come to if you come to the festival, or want to do some of the treks in the region.
I spent 24 hours here recently, on my way to Pylypets, and on to Shypit Festival in the Carpathian Mountains, which I will have a longer piece about soon. I’ve also been here several times, because, and this is partly why a missile may have struck it, it is a transport hub, so to speak, both for people to get into the mountains properly for various treks and trails, and for the trains running through from Chop to most of Ukraine (even as far as Zaporyzhe). Of course, there are other towns along this route. However, as a fan of this particular part of the mountains, I have made several trips there.
It is worth saying immediately, it is a strange town. A population of just under 5000, with a lot of Soviet architecture, it is far from the idyllic mountain town you may picture when you think of a mountain town. Certainly for me, as in Britain, smaller towns and villages in the countryside tend to be some of the most beautiful parts of the country. It isn’t quite like that in Ukraine, due to the general poverty and history of the countryside. Now, there are certainly quaint, charming villages in Ukraine, but there are many more quiet, empty, or frankly depressing ones. Volovets may not be depressing, but it lacks much charm.
The town was once the region’s (raion) capital, for Volovets Raion, but it was subsumed in 2020 into Mukachevo Raion, along with others across Ukraine. Presumably to better reflect the population. It was significantly developed by the Soviets, as evident in the Soviet buildings of different ages. Although some other building styles, including modern ones, can be seen, they often incorporate traditional mountain architectural norms, such as red roofs and almost alpine-style houses. There was a large electronics factory, which once my wife and I, and another couple, tried to enter, being abandoned, but it still had a security guard who told us it wasn’t possible. Presumably, it was developed as a central hub, and like anything in the USSR, they loved to distribute manufacturing to random places. I will go investigate this at some point.
Nonetheless, my wife and I arrived after a bus journey from Uzhhorod. We arrived at approximately 19.20, thankfully thirty seconds from our tactically chosen hotel. The hotel itself was quite charming, with a true Carpathian-style dining room and bar, with lots of wood, which was closed for some reason the whole time, and rooms with pine walls. We had a skylight even, with a view of… well:
Stepping out, we realised it was just after eight o’clock in the evening, and being a small town, we should eat soon before going on a walk, which we wanted to do. Every restaurant was closing. No food after eight. No food after eight. No food after eight. They kept telling us. There are approximately six or so restaurants in the region. We walked along to one old spot where we once had deruny and pelmeny from an old lady for about five euros in total, with beer, back in 2021. It was closed down, it seemed, or at least for the night. We went to one place we had been to before, seeing that it was full of children and people. But the barman once again said, no food after eight. Then he got another woman, who agreed to give us food, as we asked very nicely, and we could order some simple food off the starter menu. This saved us from the only apparent other options of sandwiches, or a Doner Market, a rather bland chain of sad shawarma, which hardly screams Carpathian experience.
The food was hardly the best. A relatively meatless borsch for myself, and some vareneky for my wife, a beer, and a kvass. Costs less than ten euros, at least. Prices don’t really change much around here, it seems. This is in stark comparison to Uzhhorod, with much higher costs than four years ago. But here, the only way to eat at night is to be nice to people and hope for the best, come prepared, suffer, or eat sad shawarma.
I have to mention something at this point about Carpathian service. Oh, how you are in for a treat. It’s not that staff and small business owners are always rude, though you definitely can find a level of bluntness you wouldn’t elsewhere, it’s just that…things can be different. You often have no other choice. So, if they want to be rude, they can be. If they will serve food to you in a random order, suck it up. Maybe it takes a gratuitous amount of time to arrive, well, what are you going to do? This isn’t everywhere, but it does happen.
We then climbed a hill, where there is a sort of recreational zone, with a children’s playground, lots of benches, bins even, overlooking the river and the town, and, crucially, the mountains looming behind Volovets, inviting adventure and the wild.
Not that the locals or tourists seemed to use the bins effectively, with the amount of ice cream wrappers around. And the river, sadly, had a large chunk of rubbish swept down it. Nonetheless, we had the first glimpse of being in the Carpathians. After this, and assessing the various architecture of the buildings, the rather sadly abandoned buildings, and working out which mountain was which, we headed back as the temperature dropped and the sun set.
The next day, we had a task. I needed to work this day, sadly, but we needed to get to Pylypets village. We were to camp that night up the mountain, where the festival was (though the main events weren’t to be for a few days). So, ideally, getting to the village earlier in the day, to give me time to work, and then getting up the mountain afterwards. We found a local place, just having opened around 8.30, as many were still closed (when do they work?), which the previous night had drunk men gathered round as the barmaid swept up. We got coffee, a semi-decent breakfast of eggs and “bacon” for me (basically salo) and sad bread, and my wife, who had a better time with hers, had mlintsi (stuffed pancakes) and hombovtsi (the sweet cheese-filled dough balls part of Zakarpattian cuisine).
One sad note, they have an alley of heroes with a reasonable number of photos of fallen local defenders. For a town of its size, it really puts into perspective the war’s impact, even here, deep in the mountains, far from the front.
We then embarked on a quest to a few local shops for supplies and essentials that would be harder to get later on, and to the station to find a driver to take us to Pylypets. We walked around, up the small hill which is lined by a hotel and a shop, to find a table by the station with two men and a police man, adorned with an AK-47, chatting with cigarettes and coffee. My wife enquired about the price and how long he could take us, as he was obviously a driver. They wait at this spot to collect people coming off the train. The policeman then realised he should probably do his job and ask the man here, me, for his document, which I obliged him with. I, unlike other men presumably, showed no trepidation being a foreigner, so it threw him off, I think anyway.
Unfortunately, the police do camp out at this station, and check people’s bags for drugs occaisonally, and for documentation of the men getting off the train to see if anyone is eligible for military service. I did not hear any stories of many people being drafted from the station, though it is not to say it did not happen. They don’t check everyone, as the volume of people is too much for the police, but it’s a matter of luck.
Regarding the station, I have many memories of waiting for trains or getting off one there, being asked by children once for cigarettes, or money, and waiting in the tiny waiting room, despite the fact that in the height of summer the passenger numbers are quite high.
The driver took our number and we got our bags, and he insisted that no one arrived from the train, which was scheduled to come from Kyiv, a barefaced lie. We suspect he hoped for us to pay the full fare, and he wanted to save on fuel and effort. Another unfortunate component of Carpathian service. We asked around Volovets for anyone going in that direction, or who had a lead for a driver, and the prices were the same, so we got the guy to drive us. Ending our time in this strange town, for now anyway.
If you come to Volovets, make sure you eat before 8 pm, and do not expect too much early in the morning either. Don’t expect much in general service, or of much in any regard. Just see it as your gateway to much more pleasant experiences, and admire it as a quirky, Soviet town adorned with mountain-style homes and homey and sometimes rude services for tourists.
Top recommendations for eating: The hotel Edelveys probably has the best quality food, but Nadiya is also okay. Viktoria or the Pizzeria by the station are also options if you want to minimize walking from the station (if you have lots of bags, for example), but the town is small.
Top places for staying: I can’t really say, “Nad Vychov” is perfectly decent for a night if you want a bed, though.
How to get there: Train from Kyiv, Lviv, Uzhhorod. Bus from Uzhhorod station. Private transfer or taxi if you want (but you may as well skip Volovets, imo).;
How to leave: Find a guy at the station to take you, ideally with other people to avoid getting ripped off too much.
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