One fine day in Eastern Europe I had my ear twisted by the warblings of a drunken Ukrainian youth who had spent some time in America, and felt the need to both praise and shit-talk his own people, as I’ve noticed…

One fine day in Eastern Europe I had my ear twisted by the warblings of a drunken Ukrainian youth who had spent some time in America, and felt the need to both praise and shit-talk his own people, as I’ve noticed…
There were no hostels in Crimea. OK, to be fair, the hostel craze has, by now, reached that rocky diamond-shaped tumor hanging by a thread from Ukraine, but there was only ONE in 2008. And to call it…