2025, part one, Kharkov Ukraine: 2025, #1

By Terrence Aubrey

Rod Green, (don't call me Rodney), was a young man with a plan. He'd recently bought a farm in southern Spain. Is was nesled below the Sierra Nevada mountains way to the south of Spain and overlooked the Mediterranean sea. A staunch environmentalist for an age he had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling about the direction the human race was heading but faced a very long drive.

Rod had met and fallen for a young lady from Kharkov Ukraine and intened to visit her for the very first time and did! Their first face to face meeting was a success and when he returned to Bristol England it was with the intention of driving back up to collect her in his landrover.

The driving conditions he encountered and almost from the moment of setting off were the worst he'd ever known. That it was going to be a torturous drive north was clear to him, but not one he regretted in the least

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terrence Aubrey
• Release date: Aug 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393349938

Book preview

Chapter One

Kharkov Ukraine

Rodney Green from Bristol England was a young man with a plan. 2012 had been and gone and the Mayan prediction for the end of the World had not come to pass. That was the good news, the bad news was that the weather and the climate Worldwide was gradually worsening, becoming increasingly unpredictable and dangerously so. Heat waves began afflicting huge swathes of Russia and snow was becoming ever more frequent in parts of southern Europe and North Africa. Some people had foreseen the man made ecological disaster coming and had begun to make their own plans for the uncertain future. Rodney Green from Bristol, England was one of those people and he suffered a sense of Frustration at the Ineffectiveness on the part of the World’s leaders to seriously instigate the necessary changes of lifestyle required. He began to consider the implications of climate change and the climate best suited to literally weather the storms that he feared were coming.

One of his best friends, Peter Shaw from the nearby city of Bath in England had together with his wife, Sally moved to Andalusia, Southern Spain, some years earlier. He’d visited their farm twice now and had liked what he’d seen. They had bought a sizable and fertile farm upon the lower slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Granada and with an abundance of water. Rod began to consider checking the area out. While he had no idea how bad, or dangerous the weather was going to become, it seemed clear that he couldn’t rely on anyone but himself. Worse, it was beyond weather. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and tsunamis were fast becoming the norm and even within areas unaccustomed to such events. As far as Rodney Green was concerned it seemed a more than smart idea to prepare for the worst. Those in power, the Worlds governments, seemed blind to the ever increasing forewarnings. If not blind they seemed preoccupied with other issues they deemed more important, primarily their economies.

At the age of twenty three he had began courting a young girl in Kharkov, Ukraine, via an online dating agency, she was barely eighteen and Anastasia her name. While he had yet to actually meet her; they met online at least three times a week and he was finding her increasingly beguiling. Was it possible to fall in love with someone you had not yet met? That was a question he could not answer, but his fondness for her was strong and growing by the week.

Anastasia was everything he could want in a woman. She was slim and wore her straight and blond hair quiet long. She was, as far as Rod was concerned, unusually beautiful, seemed highly cultured and was clearly unusually intelligent. Luckily and for Rod difficult to believe, the admiration seemed to be mutual. Rod was a down to earth kind of a guy and while he was no Quasimodo, neither was he particularly handsome. No, at a little over six feet, muscular and slim, he regarded himself as a regular guy. He owed his physical fitness to his work, building and while not an academic genius, neither was he a fool. His decision to make his own provisions regarding the fast changing climate reflected his concerns. His hope was to include Anastasia in his plans, even though he was yet to meet her. His success with girls to date had not exactly been a huge success, hence his decision to try online dating. He had heard only good things about the girls from Ukraine, so it was a site specializing in Ukraine girls that he had signed up to. Anastasia had been the third girl that he’d gotten to know via the site and was now his favorite by a mile. The stories he had heard were true, each of the girls he’d so far met online seemed unusually intelligent, highly cultured, elegant and beautiful and three months later Anastasia was his sole point of focus and he began making plans to visit her.

Chapter Two

Anastasia

Rod had become increasingly worried as Ukraine had slipped into civil war and for reasons that he didn’t understand. Anastasia seemed calm and tried to reassure him that it was not that bad. Rod knew that she spoke both Russian and Ukrainian and that Kharkov, a city of one million plus inhabitants lay close to the Russian border, but that was it. The reasons for the conflict were far from clear to him. Anastasia tried to reassure him, the city in which she lived was calm, the troubles way to the south of her, she’d told him repeatedly. He’d bought a map of the country and didn’t share her confidence. As far as he could see the area’s that had plunged into civil war were but a few of hundred miles to the south of her, not that far at all.

Rod eventually decided to visit her, found her enthusiasm encouraging. He booked a flight for the following week, from Gatwick London to Kiev Ukraine, from Kiev he would need to take a domestic flight to Kharkov. He kept Anastasia up to date with his fast forming plans. Did he feel an increasing excitement from Anastasia as the likelihood of their meeting began to materialize? Rod felt nervous and on two counts. As far as he could see he would be flying into a war zone, or nearby, but that was not his greatest fear. How would the reality of meeting Anastasia face to face work out, there was only one way to find out.

One week later he found himself at thirty three thousand feet and flying towards Kiev, Ukraine. He’d been following the events in Ukraine avidly, the situation seemed to be deteriorating, though Anastasia’s emails seemed to contradict that news, she still seemed very calm. Only later he would learn that the calmness that Anastasia seemed to emanate was innate, it was how she was. While the flight to Kiev was comparable with any other flight he’d experienced, the short flight to Kharkov was something else. He could only guess at the age of the plane and that it had seen better days was more than obvious, though the flight was thankfully brief. Rod spotted Anastasia as soon as he stepped from the plane in Kharkov airport; It was easily the smallest airport he had ever yet landed at, tiny. The sky was blue, it was late may, the sun was shining and Anastasia looked radiant. She was, he realized, even more finely built than she had seemed, as he drew closer, almost delicate. Rod found her greeting very formal, when they met and she extended her hand. She asked him how the flight had been and how he was. Only later would he find that her greeting was atypical rather than cold. The Ukrainians were a very formal race, at least until you got to know them and he went with it.

Anastasia had booked him into a four star hotel in the center of the city and directed their taxi driver accordingly. Rod was on his best behavior during the half hour taxi ride. He was he’d realized pretty much immediately, a stranger in a strange land; he’d follow Anastasia’s lead. She’d taken his hand in hers and pecked his cheek affectionately during the ride, bolstering Rods confidence; at least she was not disappointed in him. For his part Rod had to constrain himself, Anastasia was even more beautiful in real life, absolutely stunning. None of the girls he’d yet taken out compared to her. Was he overreaching himself, being over optimistic in thinking he could win her heart, he briefly wondered?

Would you like to eat? Anastasia asked him, once she’d helped him check into his hotel and room? Rod realized he was starving, but needed first to shower and change. Anastasia told him she’d wait in the hall and again Rod shrugged inwardly, what was he expecting, a quick roll in the hay? He felt much fresher when he rejoined her and again allowed Anastasia to both lead the way and choose the restaurant. It was not only a gentlemanly act; he was a stranger in a strange land, did not speak the language and knew nothing about the place.

His four days with Anastasia passed in a flash, his love for her growing the more time he spent with her and perhaps more important, she seemed to feel the same way about him. Was he disappointed that they shared precious few moments of intimacy? Actually no, the opposite, Anastasia radiated a class and refinement that belied her humble background. While the majority of the people of Ukraine were clearly not wealthy, many of the girls oozed class and intelligence and Anastasia’s behavior seemed to echo that fact. He’d been shocked when on his third day she took him to meet her parents. The tenement block she lived within looked a wreck, an impression that did not improve, as she led him up the stairway to the fifth floor, the escalator out of service. It was a twelve story apartment block! Those people within the upper floors must be super fit, he thought whimsically. The apartment, that was her home was actually quite pleasant, though Rod felt a little awkward, Privet, (hello), one of the few Russian word he remembered, as Anastasia made the introductions. While obviously not wealthy, her parents were clearly intelligent and highly cultured people and her younger sister, Elena was almost as stunningly beautiful as Anastasia. It was that evening and in a particularly nice restaurant that Rod told her of his intention to check out some farms in southern Spain. It was something he’d held back from sharing with her for reasons he could not have explained. The fact was he worried that she would think him irresponsible, she knew that he ran a modest though flourishing business in Bristol England. Far from showing concern or criticism Anastasia was really interested, even excited and asked him to keep her up to date. From their months of online correspondence Rod knew that he’d found a kindred spirit, as far as environmental issues went. They had shared endless emails on the subject and agreed far more than they disagreed on most subjects.

It was soon Rod’s last night, the four days had flown by and Anastasia wanted to spend it with him. That day he had been invited to share a light tea with Anastasia’s parents. Whilst from his point of view the shared communication was at best fumbled, the atmosphere felt good. Unknown to him Anastasia had told her parents that she would spend her time with Rod for what would be his last night in Kharkov. She did not translate that fact for Rods benefit. They did not protest and Elena’s sole contribution had been a cheeky wink. What remained of the day passed in a flash for Rod, Anastasia showing him increasing affection, as they strolled through the huge and lush central park?

Rod found his attitudes towards Russia, or at least Ukraine changing and fast. Central Kharkov was stunningly beautiful. The huge park that dominated the center was generously dotted with huge trees; he guessed that they had been planted at least seventy years earlier and the cobbled square abutting the park was equally huge, the biggest in Europe she’d proudly told him. Rod was suitably impressed. The square was huge, enormous and the buildings lining one side of the square grand in an elegant way. The Square boasted a huge stature of Lenin, the park named after him, though the name had recently been changed and it was now called Freedom Square.

It was over supper that Rod elaborated on his plans of checking out farmland in Andalucía. It had, after all, been their shared environmental concerns that had helped cement their online romance. Anastasia showed both interest and encouragement, particularly when he informed her that he was checking out one farm in particular. He promised to keep her up to date. They retired to bed early that night and only in part from practicality, Rods flight early the following morning. Rod disappointed himself, able only to contain himself for scant minutes, in truth finding her more than exciting. It was unimportant; Anastasia aroused him with ease and several times over during the night.

Anastasia woke early the following morning, she knew that Rod faced a long day of travelling and would do what she could to help. From her perspective her time with Rod had passed far too quickly, she really liked him. Whether that liking would turn to love was not a question she even considered. Only she knew that she’d like to see him again and the sooner the better. She shared her thoughts with Rod, openly and honestly, during the taxi ride to the local airport. Rod felt overjoyed and promised to return as soon as he could and their parting kiss reflected the growing fondness they shared for each other. Rod felt on top of the World once he boarded the small plane. Their first real meeting had gone better than he could have hoped for and he felt optimistic. Setting aside the warm glow he was feeling he glanced around the small, but full plane, suspecting that it was twenty years old, and probably even older. Hopefully they would enjoy favorable weather. They didn’t and one hour into the flight they hit a storm, a fearsome storm. Whilst the pilot coped admirably the plane was tossed about like a cork within a stormy sea. Many of his fellow passengers were sick, though he resisted. The storm accompanied them all the way to Kiev, if anything intensifying. The landing at Kiev had been pretty rough, but the pilot did well. Some of the passengers clapped. He was not looking forward to the flight to England. He’d had good reason to feel nervous, it was easily the roughest flight he’d ever endured; the storm seemed Europe wide and the eventual landing at Gatwick airport was even worse than the landing in Kiev and this was a proper plane, a big plane. It seemed to Rod a miracle that the pilot had gotten the plane down in one piece at all. Unknown to him that was a view the Captain and cabin crew shared.

Rod was in a very thoughtful mood, as he drove his two year old Land rover Safari back to Bristol. The wind did not let up at all, near gale force he suspected and neither did the rain, it was if anything intensifying. His Land rover, as aero dynamic as an electric toaster dictated his speed, slow, fifty miles an hour maximum. Rod knew the M4 motorway well, but not in these conditions and it was a far from pleasant trip. It was with a sense of relief that he pulled up outside of his modest house in Bristol four hours later, the rain if anything, falling with even greater intensity. It was half an hour later and once he’d toweled him self dry, that he found Anastasia’s messages on his whatsapp. He forgot the storm raging outside, at least until he’d read her words of love and replied. That he was fast falling love with her was a fact that both thrilled and scared him in equal measure. Love and romance had not been one of his successes to date, quite the opposite and he responded warmly. Rod had been back in Bristol for a week now and had yet to resume work. He had two projects underway, both modest, two small extensions, a kitchen and bathroom respectively. The culprit was the weather, or rather the rain. Not only had the rain not let up since he’d returned to England, according to the forecasts it was not about to. Rod was not a happy idlerr so the email he received from his old friend Peter was a welcome respite. A small farm of two hectares, together with an old and small cottage in need of fixing up would soon be available. It had ample water; electricity was nearby and at twelve thousand Euros, seemed a good deal. Also it was close to  Peter’s farm and shared the same valley and  as Peter pointed out they would once again be near neighbors. Rod wasted no time and booked himself onto the next available flight to Malaga, Spain. He’d been lucky and had booked a seat for late morning the following day. Peter would meet him at the airport. He then wrote to Anastasia to share what he hoped she’d agree was happy news. Once done he made himself a coffee then gazed from his window. The rain was falling heavily, had not let up since he’d got back from Ukraine and the dark grey clouds seemed even lower almost within touching distance. The  email that Anastasia sent him cheered him up The email that Anastasia had literally just sent him reflected their developing relationship and was easily the most affectionate mail he’d yet received from her. Yes, she shared his enthusiasm, for his forthcoming trip. He would compose his response later, once he’d gathered his thoughts. He now knew her a little better, both her and the Ukrainian way of doing things and would compose his reply with care. Rod set off early the following morning in his three year old Ford Fiesta. The airport was but a fifteen mile drive, but the incessant rain was really snarling up the traffic. Despite both the appalling weather conditions and the heavy traffic he arrived at the local airport in good time. Hopefully this flight would be a little less dramatic.

It was much the same the low lying grey clouds covered France in its entirety and as far as the Pyrenees mountain chain, the rain too.  While the flight was far from smooth, it was less traumatic than the flight from Kiev and luckily Spain was enjoying blue skies and sunshine and the remainder of the flight had been much smoother. Rod realized he’d been lucky in Ukraine; they’d enjoyed blue skies right up to his day of departure. That he would return to Ukraine and Anastasia was a certainty, though when he could only guess at. Quite how and when he would fit in a return trip to Ukraine would hinge on the farm he was about to view, though was sure that his old friend Peter wouldn’t have told him of it unless the place was worth checking out.

Peter was awaiting him in arrivals and was easy to see. At close to six foot four he stood out from the crowd. Six foot four, but as thin as a rake and he was wearing his blond hair longer these days Rod saw immediately. Peter would take him directly to the farm, though via a café he used regularly and he was very enthusiastic, about the place he was taking Rod to visit. It was in his opinion the perfect opportunity, though accepted that it would of course depend on Rod’s evaluation of the place.

They played catch up during the near two hour drive and much of Rods conversation revolved around his budding relationship with Anastasia. He even showed Peter a photo of her. Although a little battered, he kept it in his wallet; Peter had to agree that she was a stunningly beautiful young lady. The weather dominated their conversation, Peter was aware of the near monsoon like rain that much of Europe had now been suffering for weeks the news stations had been full of it. They shared an opinion, that the incessant rain was almost certainly related to the Worlds rapidly changing weather patterns. It was something that seemed more than clear to each of them. Peter was if anything more concerned than Rod and urged him to move rapidly, he had a bad feeling about the way things were going. From his perspective the incidents of freak global weather were speeding up and worse, becoming the norm. Rod didn’t disagree, but was highly aware of the complications he faced. Here he was in Spain and about to check out a farm, but. His stuff, his life was in Bristol, England, almost two thousand miles to the north? Then there were the logistics involved with Anastasia, the woman he wanted in his life, she was still further away at least two thousand miles to the north of Bristol!  Rod shared those facts with Peter; who sympathized. His suggestion was to take things step by step, the first step to check out the farm and they were nearly there.

Rod was taken with the place from the moment they arrived and its geographic situation seemed ideal. The land was gently sloping to the south and while no farmer, the soil seemed fertile and the views in every direction were absolutely stunning. To the north the Sierra Nevada Mountains, currently snow capped, looked majestic and to the south the Mediterranean Sea looked enchanting. Rod was more than struck by the comparison with the view he enjoyed from his house in Bristol. Peter led him towards a babbling brook that formed the northern boundary of the farm and that there was more than enough water for irrigation was clear to see and while the small house was clearly quite old it looked solid enough. It was built from stone, though the tiled roof was sagging dramatically. Rod made a mental calculation, three months hard work would fix it, no time. The only negative was electricity, there was none? As far as he could see the closest pylons were a few miles away, could they live without electricity? He’d run that past Peter they were clearly coping. More importantly he decided to go for it, the place seemed ideal, better than he could have hoped for.

Nice find Peter, he thanked his old friend, I’ll buy it, what happens next? Peter ran him through the procedure of buying property in Spain, though Rods thoughts were elsewhere. He had so much to organize and really wanted to see Anastasia again. He gave Peter the five thousand pounds deposit he’d brought with him and Peter was more than happy to deal with the purchase on his behalf. He would be staying at Peter’s place overnight and Pete would run him back to the airport in the morning. Rod was conscious that he owed his old friend big time and that none of this would be happening if not for his help. It was only the second time he’d visited Peter’s farm and was again struck by its beauty and the sheer size of the place. It was in fact huge, a little over five hundred acres in fact, bigger than Rod had realised. However good a deal a deal Rod thought he was getting Peter had struck gold. He’d bought the place eight years earlier and had been one of the first northern European in the area and had bought the place for little more than he was about to pay for three acres! From Rod’s perspective Peter deserved whatever luck came his way, he’d always been one step ahead of most for as long as he’d known him.

Chapter Three

Andalucía

Rods head was buzzing on the flight back, so much to do, but what order to do it in? Again they hit heavy weather once past the Pyrenees and again the flight was far from smooth. The further north they flew the heavier the rain and stronger the wind seemed to become and it was another over exciting landing, a habit Rod would prefer not to have to get used to! The rain was heavy and the traffic snarled up as he drove through Bristol and The normally one hour journey took closer to two He considered the suitability of the Fiesta in Spain, basically it wouldn’t be suitable. He’d sell it and buy a second sturdier vehicle, maybe another four wheel drive?

The following morning Rod called an estate agent active in the area. He’d put his house up for sale, the agent suggesting one hundred and eighty thousand. Not bad, he’d paid ninety thousand for the place only three years earlier. Rod’s next thought was his Land rover and the tools and stuff he’d need to fix the old place in Spain up. He’d buy a sizable trailer, load both the trailer and Land rover to the hilt and then drive it over to Spain via the Santander ferry. He knew that he’d then face a long drive to Peters place. Last, but far from least was Anastasia, he really wanted to see her again and show her the photos of the farm and area. He realized he could scan and send her the photos he’d taken in an email, much easier. Once he’d sent the email Rod realized he needed to chill, turn off and headed to his local pub. It helped, if only in calming his overactive mind. He was he realized letting himself in for some serious driving. A couple of lagers helped, as did small talk with the regulars though e did not feel ready to reveal his plans with them; they were too embryonic, maybe later. As soon as he got home he opened Anastasia’s enthusiastic email. She loved it, loved all of it, everything about it. The place the area, was; in her words absolutely stunning, beautiful. He resisted the temptation to write back, or Skype her, he really needed to get to bed and get some sleep, and give his over active mind a break. He fell asleep in minutes.

Anastasia showed both her parents and sister the photos. Her sister loved them, as did her parents, though they realized they would soon lose her. They would do nothing, would not try to talk her out of leaving Ukraine, even though they would miss her terribly. In truth her parents were concerned about the unrest within the country. Until very recently the Ukraine had been a dual language country at peace with itself and Russia their big brother. Idiots had created problems that had never previously existed and the cat had been let out of the bag. How the conflict would be resolved was now far from clear, hatred on both sides had developed, it was worrying. Rod seemed like a very nice young man and they knew Anastasia would make a very good wife, they had brought her up so. That Anastasia would love living within a country that enjoyed a sunny climate they did not doubt. She had always loved their annual summer holidays in the Crimea. No, what was happening within the Ukraine worried everyone. While Russia and the Ukraine had lived as brothers since the Soviet Union had collapsed, power crazed fools had changed that. Anastasia’s father was not optimistic; the thugs on both sides had created hatred. Whether that would change over time was something that was at the moment unknown. The country was no in a state of turmoil and what was in affect a civil war was ongoing and breeding increasing hatred and division as it did so. No while he would miss her terribly Anastasia would enjoy a better life with what seemed a very nice young man. No as much as he loved this beautiful country it was difficult to feel optimistic, at least in the short term.

Rod was wakened early the following morning by the strong winds and heavy rain. It was only six AM. As far as he was concerned that was a plus rather than a minus, he had a lot to do. He’d roughed up a list of what he needed to do the previous evening and it was a lengthy one. He flipped on the TV, as had become his habit a news channel. The conflict in Ukraine seemed to going from bad to worse, it was worrying him increasingly. Now that he had spent time in the country, he knew that the simplistic view espoused in the west was far from true. It was clear to Rod that Russia and the Ukraine had enjoyed a mutually beneficial relationship for decades, what had changed? As far as he could see extremists had taken over and with diametrically opposing views regarding the countries future. No the sooner he could get Anastasia out of the place the better he would feel, but even that wouldn’t be easy. Equally, he would need to drive there to literally rescue her!  Rod glanced out his window; the rain had not eased up at all and if anything it had intensified. Rod cast his worries from his mind; he had one hell of a lot of stuff to do. He was worried, convinced that the increasing extremes of weather were indirectly manmade. That the extreme weather seemed to be worldwide was yet another concern. Only the nature of the extremes of weather across the planet seemed to vary, but none of them were good. Rod had composed a prioritized hit list. Number one, he intended to buy a sizable trailer.