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Jeremy Cornam has just returned from his fourth visit to Western Ukraine, what he would describe as the 'forgotten heart of Europe'. One of the attractions of Ukraine for him, at least the region he visits, is the almost complete absence of  tourists. Attitudes and customs are different. "It's taking a long time," says Jeremy, " to get over the 70 odd years of communist 'religion'."  He's written another article titled 'Land of Giant Empty Houses', which appears in the latest edition of the EscapeArtist.Com Offshore Real Estate Quarterly. The peculiar state of the property market there reflects the economic and mental state of the inhabitants. Jeremy Cornam says it's the best real estate bargain going in this yet undiscovered corner of the world, one steeped in culture at the farthest end of Eastern Europe. Additional Resources Working Overseas  International Jobs Marketplace  Insider Country Profile  More Facts and Figures  Real Estate  Contact Jeremy Cornam

Benidorm, Spain, you know -- like all the rest -- a mini Manhattan for the tourist, with two-drinks-for-one Happy Hour. The other place? Get your atlas out and look in that big space called Ukraine in Eastern Europe, go west of the capital, Kiev, and, dropped into the borders of endless pine forests in Old Poland, you have Rivne. A 'city' of about 220,000  souls, although it seemed less to me, lacking the density of a comparable English town. Those who visit The Ukraine might be grouped in three categories: the businessman headed to Kiev; the tourist, also headed to Kiev; and last, an odd collection of people with particular, off-the-beaten- track reasons to visit cities like Rivne in that former

Climate? . . . Brrrrr . . . rather like biting-cold England, with a more extreme downside.

Hotel? . . . Gee! . . . the one in the centre of town, the inappropriately named 'Star', had no running water, just cockroach poison when I stayed in it seven years ago. I passed by it a few weeks ago, and the outside looked just the same. It's a good location for an urbanized, Eastern European Bates Motel horror film.

Getting around? . . . Uh! . . . the basic written environment of signs are in an unfamiliar alphabet and all well away from the comfort zone. You feel lost and could get physically lost. You soon develop a dog like association with your friend/translator/minder. He gets up, so do you. He smiles, ditto. However, good friends and readers, my smiling mechanism received in fact a much needed boost after a long spell in England.
 

The City? . . . Well, yes! . . . Rivne falls well short on nearly all what I'll call the Bendidorm reference chart. Although, at this point, fairness compells mention of improvements over my last visit. Shiny new petrol stations have opened. as well as one or two modern restaurants and bars and a couple of western style supermarkets, but still isolated pinpoints of light in an otherwise still dark landscape. Literally dark, as the council couldn't afford the electricity to keep street lights on. The Upside? . . . A.O.K. . . . to list the shortcomings of this place misses the point. It is this abnormal situation that attracts. I don't want an English speaking, package holiday service. I've done the Greek islands and Benidorm, where one could not shake off a feeling of anonymity. Where the few locals see you as a walking room number, easily replaceable. They have little inclination to really see

 the individual. And fellow holidaymakers abide by the mantra 'to have a good time', generosity of spirit literally expressed in another round of liquor filled glasses.  At times, banality has its place. But oftenwise, there is a need to as an E. M. Foster preface says, to 'only connect'.

Wages still remain low, not exceeding a dollar an hour for most workers. My friend's pensioner parents get only about $8 a month joint income and rely on his unstinting support. For other old women, it's standing on a pavement all day to try and sell a handful of berries or the grandchild's used clothes. A stark environment in which to relate, one that gives a perspective on life at home and to better see how our cradle to grave welfare has damaged people's interdependency. And  Health & Safety rules. What a joke! I saw a bitumen pipe coating company that would have given a British clipboard inspector apoplexy.
 
 

All strangely liberating. May be that's what the Wild west was like. Feeling this might be a little tiring physically, but memorable. It's odd how discomfort and a certain brutality make strong memories, like my boarding school days.  However, it wasn't just a grim learning experience, but funny too at times, in a darkish, crazy way. Like finding a restaurant bill ten times less than expected. Or the business meeting with the brother of a big business owner and his son, in his small office to the side of a delicatessen type shop he owned. It resembled a scene from a ganster film, with dark complexioned men dressed entirely in black squeezed on chairs against the wall. Are they discussing some ruthless business action? Then plates of food and drink brought by a definitely pre-politically correct secretary. And, incredibly, a special vegetarian option for me. Another round of handshakes and good bye.

Doubtless, after a number of ebb and flows,  the tide of rising Western standards of living will cross Poland to reach Ukraine. Even the Euro zone may survive and take this country into its smudging embrace. But it will never be a Benidorm. If they had a Happy Hour there, the bars would go bust in a night.
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