Shypit Festival Part 2: An Excursion for Vegetarian, Ukrainian Food

This is the next part of my write-up about Shypit festival

Part one can be found here. My write-up of 2023 is also here. I will talk mostly about visiting the village of Podobavets in this specific piece.

This is the next part of my write-up about Shypit festival. Part 1 can be found here. My write-up of 2023 is also here on my personal site. I will talk mostly about visiting the village of Podobavets in this specific piece.

It was Thursday morning. We were grateful for the camping spot we chose. The cool shade of the trees over us on the fringe of the field kept us from the unpleasant, overheated tent experience and allowed for a reasonable amount of sleep. Barring the fact that we had apparently placed our tent over a massive rock.

The morning involved leisurely making coffee, to which was appropriate to add some Argentinian cognac I had brought (as, like Christmas, this is an entirely acceptable place to drink at whatever time you wish, though of course, some may take that a little too far.) After a simple breakfast of protein bars, fruit, and open sandwiches, we soaked up the sun and made the trip down.

The plan was to drop some things off at the hotel, so I could work the next day, and go on a walk to Podobavets, to visit a particular restaurant. It’s the nearby village, which, as the crow flies, is close, but to walk not as easy as I described in the previous part. There are three routes: the main road, the exposed track, and a trail through the mountains. We decided to do the track, as it looked far more interesting than walking along a road or a sun-exposed dirt road.

At the hotel, we charged our phones, while still trying to minimize screen time through airplane mode, had more coffee, and set off. MapsMe insisted we could walk from Grunok hotel straight into the trail, yet it was unclear how. Instead, we walked around and found a dug-out clearing resembling a small quarry and eventually identified where we needed to go, thanks to some slight height differences in the grass. A promising start. After five minutes, we saw how we could have literally just climbed over some shrubs to get on the trail from the hotel. Oh well, live and learn.

The trail had clearly become less used over the years, with many thorns dangling in your way, grass poking through the earth, and no visible souls at this point. The connection with nature was, however, marred by the boom boom boom of music, which blended that sort of polka rhythm with very 80s/90s trumpets and keyboards, designed for parties and weddings. Not a good combination of new and old, like the many ethno-folk electronic (Go_A, Dakha Brakha) or metal bands (Bartky) that have been growing in Ukraine, but the sort of thing your chain-smoking bus driver listens to, drunk distant relatives stumble around to at a wedding, or a gaudy restaurant blasts out to give an air of authenticity. My wife explained that this sort of music is associated with celebrations and holidays, and thus is a popular choice, despite the entire clash with the natural surroundings. Considering Hutsuls and the other mountain tribes have their own musical traditions, and modern bands have adapted them, you could use that. Maybe some calmer music to complement the calm of nature? Or maybe…just nothing? No, not here.

Thankfully, the music faded as we kept following the path up, refilling water from fresh mountain streams. It had gotten hot, and with the altitude, it felt higher in temperature than any app would tell us. Admittedly, not at the dizzying heights of the Andes, as these are old mountains, but still, high enough. The trees gave us shade, thankfully. We continued, crossed a larger trail which had a motocross bike driving down it, shattering the sense of isolation, and paused with a view of a tree and a meadow.

Continuing through the meadow, we were now exposed to the sun, so we quickly walked, deciding to head down via a ski route, which, obviously, in summer is not in use. My wife rejoiced that this was the ski lift and hill that she had used many times in her childhood. In fact, this whole area was very significant, not just due to the festival that she had attended since the mid-00s, but from multiple childhood skiing holidays here. I found it interesting that skiing is not quite the high-society pursuit that it is in the West; rather, it was a typical family winter activity. I suppose due to the Soviet made ski routes and affordability. This is not necessarily the case in the more luxurious ski resorts like Bukovel, which definitely have costs that are prohibitive to many Ukrainian families.

We walked down and, finally, after around an hour walk, came to our destination: Справжня казка, or “true tale” (pronounced spravzhna kazka).

Peering at the restaurant, you would suspect it to be a standard, traditional mountain restaurant, enticing you with plates of meat, potatoes, bread, and beer. The inside and outside, all wood, all traditional, so it lends itself to that appearance. Well, as much as I love a place like that, this is something different.

This is, in fact, a totally vegetarian restaurant, offering traditional Ukrainian and Carpathian dishes without any meat, and often no animal products at all. Instead of large pints of beer, you have non-alcoholic cocktails of various combinations, elaborate coffees, and fresh juices. We ordered various dishes, after significant decision-making, due to the extensive choices, and went to explore the area, for the other key attraction to this restaurant.

Cats!

Here, they look after local abandoned and stray cats. They have cats of all ages, and provide them with safe shelter, food, and everything else. You can’t touch the kittens, as they are safely inside, but there are plenty of cats, and you can watch them play, fight, or sleep, as cats do. This, combined with the excellent food choices, makes it a top reason to visit this otherwise quaint, small, yet unassuming mountain village.

The food was excellent, we had banosh, made with sulguni cheese as a replacement for the standard fried lard, a baked spinach and cheese dish, and hombovtsi (the Zakarpattian dough balls with cheese). So, not vegan for us, but they do have them. 

After this, we had a look around the village. Unlike the vast hotels and buildings springing up in Pylypets, Podobavets consists mostly of small, traditional Carpathian houses made of thick boughs of wood. The houses, in addition to the ski resort, and a few other guesthouses. I don’t even think there’s a working shop.

We departed and followed the trail a different way out of the village and up the mountain. We caught up to where we had come from, the sun evoking more sweat and complaints, and wound down a different route towards Pylypets, where we started. Unfortunately, while attempting to cross a puddle that was becoming a small lake, I slipped off what I thought was a safe log, and my Converse landed deep into a puddle, which required me to wash them in the river. The river we also washed some fresh cherries in.

After stocking up on supplies, making use of our shower in the room at the hotel, plus letting my shoes dry in the sun before switching them out for boots, we embarked up the mountain once more to our campsite, with the intention of making plov.

Making plov when camping is a good choice when you’ve plenty of people, provided you get the barberries and spices in advance, as village shops tend not to have such things. Well, I actually did find a plov spice blend in the village, but how was I to know? For camping, to avoid spoilage, you get “tushonka” meat, a sort of canned, cooked meat which is layered in fat, which can last in cupboards for a long time, ideal for budget-conscious meals, and this exact situation. Then you just need rice, carrots, onions, garlic (all usually do-able in a village shop) and your cooking tools (or sme good sticks in a pinch, Isuppose).

A few of us did our share to make the plov, including myself, involving more wood collection from the forest, water collecting from the river, chopping, and cooking over the fire. It was, in fact, one of the best plovs I have had. Thanks to my pre-made spice mix (basically pepper, cumin (I had seeds, but it worked), ground coriander, and turmeric. I added a bit of other things i had lying around too, I can’t even remember. Cooking like that is always an art for me, never a science. Probably why I enjoy it more than baking.

As an aside, for camping trips like these, standard camping food in Ukraine tends to include: bread, perhaps salo, instant mashed potato, instant noodles, other carbs such as pasta or potato, and other canned goods. The tushonka is the uniquely Eastern European component I am not so familiar with in the UK.

After plov, the evening faded away, with shared bottles of drinks, and other substances for some (which I will discuss later), and surveying the surroundings. More people had slowly begun to join the festival, with the younger people going along to the hidden sunny meadow, or at the top, and older people or those safer from the TSK lower down nearer us. However, it was still a quiet day, and thus, we headed down to our hotel at around midnight to sleep in the comfort of an actual bed, a welcome experience. I remember when I used to curse glampers. Now, being over thirty, I understand.

The next part will be out…when I have time. I thought I would cover two days, so perhaps one day an article. We will see. General advice: learn to make plov when camping in Ukraine. Visit Справжня казка, and remember to wear sensible shoes, even in summer, or take better care of where you are stepping.

This is the next part of my write-up about Shypit festival. Part 1 can be found by clicking here. My write-up of 2023 is also here. I will talk mostly about visiting the village of Podobavets in this specific piece.

It was Thursday morning. We were grateful for the camping spot we chose. The cool shade of the trees over us on the fringe of the field kept us from the unpleasant, overheated tent experience and allowed for a reasonable amount of sleep. Barring the fact that we had apparently placed our tent over a massive rock.

The morning involved leisurely making coffee, to which was appropriate to add some Argentinian cognac I had brought (as, like Christmas, this is an entirely acceptable place to drink at whatever time you wish, though of course, some may take that a little too far.) After a simple breakfast of protein bars, fruit, and open sandwiches, we soaked up the sun and made the trip down.

The plan was to drop some things off at the hotel, so I could work the next day, and go on a walk to Podobavets, to visit a particular restaurant. It’s the nearby village, which, as the crow flies, is close, but to walk not as easy as I described in the previous part. There are three routes: the main road, the exposed track, and a trail through the mountains. We decided to do the track, as it looked far more interesting than walking along a road or a sun-exposed dirt road.

At the hotel, we charged our phones, while still trying to minimize screen time through airplane mode, had more coffee, and set off. MapsMe insisted we could walk from Grunok hotel straight into the trail, yet it was unclear how. Instead, we walked around and found a dug-out clearing resembling a small quarry and eventually identified where we needed to go, thanks to some slight height differences in the grass. A promising start. After five minutes, we saw how we could have literally just climbed over some shrubs to get on the trail from the hotel. Oh well, live and learn.

The trail had clearly become less used over the years, with many thorns dangling in your way, grass poking through the earth, and no visible souls at this point. The connection with nature was, however, marred by the boom boom boom of music, which blended that sort of polka rhythm with very 80s/90s trumpets and keyboards, designed for parties and weddings. Not a good combination of new and old, like the many ethno-folk electronic (Go_A, Dakha Brakha) or metal bands (Bartky) that have been growing in Ukraine, but the sort of thing your chain-smoking bus driver listens to, drunk distant relatives stumble around to at a wedding, or a gaudy restaurant blasts out to give an air of authenticity. My wife explained that this sort of music is associated with celebrations and holidays, and thus is a popular choice, despite the entire clash with the natural surroundings. Considering Hutsuls and the other mountain tribes have their own musical traditions, and modern bands have adapted them, you could use that. Maybe some calmer music to complement the calm of nature? Or maybe…just nothing? No, not here.

Thankfully, the music faded as we kept following the path up, refilling water from fresh mountain streams. It had gotten hot, and with the altitude, it felt higher in temperature than any app would tell us. Admittedly, not at the dizzying heights of the Andes, as these are old mountains, but still, high enough. The trees gave us shade, thankfully. We continued, crossed a larger trail which had a motocross bike driving down it, shattering the sense of isolation, and paused with a view of a tree and a meadow.

Continuing through the meadow, we were now exposed to the sun, so we quickly walked, deciding to head down via a ski route, which, obviously, in summer is not in use. My wife rejoiced that this was the ski lift and hill that she had used many times in her childhood. In fact, this whole area was very significant, not just due to the festival that she had attended since the mid-00s, but from multiple childhood skiing holidays here. I found it interesting that skiing is not quite the high-society pursuit that it is in the West; rather, it was a typical family winter activity. I suppose due to the Soviet made ski routes and affordability. This is not necessarily the case in the more luxurious ski resorts like Bukovel, which definitely have costs that are prohibitive to many Ukrainian families.

We walked down and, finally, after around an hour walk, came to our destination: Справжня казка, or “true tale” (pronounced spravzhna kazka).

Peering at the restaurant, you would suspect it to be a standard, traditional mountain restaurant, enticing you with plates of meat, potatoes, bread, and beer. The inside and outside, all wood, all traditional, so it lends itself to that appearance. Well, as much as I love a place like that, this is something different.

This is, in fact, a totally vegetarian restaurant, offering traditional Ukrainian and Carpathian dishes without any meat, and often no animal products at all. Instead of large pints of beer, you have non-alcoholic cocktails of various combinations, elaborate coffees, and fresh juices. We ordered various dishes, after significant decision-making, due to the extensive choices, and went to explore the area, for the other key attraction to this restaurant.

Cats!

Here, they look after local abandoned and stray cats. They have cats of all ages, and provide them with safe shelter, food, and everything else. You can’t touch the kittens, as they are safely inside, but there are plenty of cats, and you can watch them play, fight, or sleep, as cats do. This, combined with the excellent food choices, makes it a top reason to visit this otherwise quaint, small, yet unassuming mountain village.

The food was excellent, we had banosh, made with sulguni cheese as a replacement for the standard fried lard, a baked spinach and cheese dish, and hombovtsi (the Zakarpattian dough balls with cheese). So, not vegan for us, but they do have them. 

After this, we had a look around the village. Unlike the vast hotels and buildings springing up in Pylypets, Podobavets consists mostly of small, traditional Carpathian houses made of thick boughs of wood. The houses, in addition to the ski resort, and a few other guesthouses. I don’t even think there’s a working shop.

We departed and followed the trail a different way out of the village and up the mountain. We caught up to where we had come from, the sun evoking more sweat and complaints, and wound down a different route towards Pylypets, where we started. Unfortunately, while attempting to cross a puddle that was becoming a small lake, I slipped off what I thought was a safe log, and my Converse landed deep into a puddle, which required me to wash them in the river. The river we also washed some fresh cherries in.

After stocking up on supplies, making use of our shower in the room at the hotel, plus letting my shoes dry in the sun before switching them out for boots, we embarked up the mountain once more to our campsite, with the intention of making plov.

Making plov when camping is a good choice when you’ve plenty of people, provided you get the barberries and spices in advance, as village shops tend not to have such things. Well, I actually did find a plov spice blend in the village, but how was I to know? For camping, to avoid spoilage, you get “tushonka” meat, a sort of canned, cooked meat which is layered in fat, which can last in cupboards for a long time, ideal for budget-conscious meals, and this exact situation. Then you just need rice, carrots, onions, garlic (all usually do-able in a village shop) and your cooking tools (or sme good sticks in a pinch, Isuppose).

A few of us did our share to make the plov, including myself, involving more wood collection from the forest, water collecting from the river, chopping, and cooking over the fire. It was, in fact, one of the best plovs I have had. Thanks to my pre-made spice mix (basically pepper, cumin (I had seeds, but it worked), ground coriander, and turmeric. I added a bit of other things i had lying around too, I can’t even remember. Cooking like that is always an art for me, never a science. Probably why I enjoy it more than baking.

As an aside, for camping trips like these, standard camping food in Ukraine tends to include: bread, perhaps salo, instant mashed potato, instant noodles, other carbs such as pasta or potato, and other canned goods. The tushonka is the uniquely Eastern European component I am not so familiar with in the UK.

After plov, the evening faded away, with shared bottles of drinks, and other substances for some (which I will discuss later), and surveying the surroundings. More people had slowly begun to join the festival, with the younger people going along to the hidden sunny meadow, or at the top, and older people or those safer from the TSK lower down nearer us. However, it was still a quiet day, and thus, we headed down to our hotel at around midnight to sleep in the comfort of an actual bed, a welcome experience. I remember when I used to curse glampers. Now, being over thirty, I understand.

The next part will be out…when I have time. I thought I would cover two days, so perhaps one day an article. We will see. General advice: learn to make plov when camping in Ukraine. Visit Справжня казка, and remember to wear sensible shoes, even in summer, or take better care of where you are stepping.