I got up a bit earlier this morning, and was ready for breakfast at 9. I was allowed some coffee to go with my chicken wing and three slices of apple cake, then Ana and I set off for Lugansk again. The minibus ride to Pervomaisk was much the same, only with Ukrainian 'gangsta rap' instead of Tom Jones playing on the radio and even more babushki. The feeling of being so far from home was strong, but not in an unwelcoming way. There is a very Eastern European feel to the manner in which people go to work in the morning; the bus shelter and minubuses themselves are falling apart, and the ride and the scenery are uncomfortable, but everyone gets to where they want to go. Apart from us, who even at 11 in
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