YALTA, CRIMEA, UKRAINE, 1994

Photo: View on Yalta

August 1994, Prague-Kyiv-Yalta
Kedeng, kedeng, for hours the steady rumble of the train resounds. Slowly, at about 80 km/h, the train moves through the endless landscape. Every now and then, the sound of brakes, whistling, doors slamming open, but soon after, that same hour-long kedeng kedeng returns. That stiff rhythm is like a symphony, and it stimulates my musical imagination. I’d love to sit at the piano right now, and play a new piece with all the themes and sounds that this rhythm entails. But I can’t: I’m on the train from Prague to Kyiv for a 32-hour journey. It is August, 1994. In the train for a day and a half, I’ve been listening to that rhythmic symphony of the engine noises for hours. We left the Czech Republic in the afternoon, and as we passed through the mountains of Slovakia, it got dark. Late at night, the conductor came to set up the couchettes with blankets and a pillow. While I’m going to sleep, my fellow travelers start chatting in the hallway. Late at night, we cross the border into Ukraine. Half asleep, I show my passport. A little later, the train stops at the town of Chop. We have to get off the train and wait two hours in the main station hall until the entire train is transferred to the wide Russian chassis. The Russian railway, which also runs through Ukraine, is wider than the one from Western Europe. The carriages are fine, and there’s even a dining car, but to my surprise, no one eats there. The meal costs twenty guilders, a fortune in Ukraine in 1994.
Finally, the train departs. As daylight breaks, we travel through the green mountains of the Carpathians. Everywhere, the mountains are covered with forests, and every now and then we pass small villages with farmhouses.

Photo: a bird´s eye view on Yalta

We pass many stations, and everywhere the platforms are full of people waiting for us with all kinds of food. Everyone is trying to earn some extra money. Housewives, and sometimes lawyers and notaries, are selling water because everyone needs money. This is a poor country. I buy some bread and a bottle of strong Georgian mineral water. Finally, at 2:30 a.m., I arrive in Kyiv. Oleg is waiting for me. Tired from the long journey, we drive to the apartment to get some rest. The next day, Oleg takes me on a tour of Kyiv. I know Oleg from Utrecht when he came to sing with his choir, and I helped him buy music, especialy vinyl, he couldn’t find in Ukraine (this was before the digital age).
The same evening we set off for Crimea. Besides Oleg and Yulia, the group also included two colleagues from Kyiv’s biology faculty and my cousin. Kyiv’s biology faculty has an apartment in Yalta where we’ll be staying for a week. The journey begins by train to Simferopol, about 20 hours. We set off in good spirits, and thankfully our friends have thought of some food. We sleep most of the way in the cabins, and I only woke up when we are in the far south. What surprises me is how filthy the toilets are. A ring of brown matter of unknown origin surrounds the toilet: I’d never seen anything like it on a train before. Someone tells me it has to do with the Russian phobia of microbes. So, it seems Ukrainians share this phobia too! (We’re talking about 1994…).
The train crosses the long stretch of water between Ukraine and Crimea. At Simferopol, we take the trolleybus to Yalta: another two-hour ride through the mountains and then a slow descent. This is the longest trolleybus ride in the world. The bus is full, and we have to stand. It’s a hot day, and everyone is sweating. It’s grueling, shaking in the heat for two hours, but the reward arrives: I finally see the Black Sea! Yalta is situated in a magical location on the south side of the Crimean Mountains, sloping gently into the sea, with a sultry subtropical climate. Its location is somewhat reminiscent of Cap Martin or Menton on the Cote d’Azur. This, too, is a blue coast with swaying palm trees and luxurious white villas everywhere.

Photo: the boulevard in the centre of Yalta

Yalta, August 1994
Our apartment is spacious and well-maintained. It’s not far from the beach, and of course, we quickly dive into the sea. The water is wonderful and quite warm. There are other people on the beach, but it’s quiet for such a luxurious seaside resort. The climate is pleasant; during the day, it’s very warm, but not excessively so, thanks to the sea’s cooling effect. In the evening, a wonderfully soft breeze blows warm air across the terraces. It’s no wonder that the Russian elite always loved coming here.
Yalta was designed as a fashionable tourist resort, identical in concept to the most beautiful places on the French Riviera, only (in 1994) it hasn’t yet become as wealthy and prosperous as St. Tropez— at least, in my opinion. But it is beautiful. The white, characteristic palaces, magnificent mansions with verandas and a palladium-like architectural style, streets that slope upwards, palms and plane trees between the houses. And amidst the abundant greenery and palm trees, a constant stream of villas, and from every house, you have a sea view. On the east side of the city are several large, impressive palaces. In the evenings, I noticed that the electricity would occasionally go out, and sometimes parts of the city wouldn’t be lit. After a while, it would be restored. There wasn’t always running water, so we couldn’t use the shower very often. Sometimes the water would only come on for half an hour every other day, and when it did, everyone would rush into the house and we’d take turns showering.
We strolled through the beautiful city and got a sense of its splendor, but, occasionally, there was also some faded glory. The food in the restaurant was delicious and extremely cheap. Our friends told us there was a water problem. And because of the lack of running water, cholera had broken out in some places in Crimea. But it was far away from Yalta, and we didn’t notice anything.

Photo: Livadia palace in Yalta, this was the location of the historical conference with Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin in 1945

Yalta
Crimea has always been a playground of powers. Once it was mainly inhabited by the Crimean Tartars. Later, when the Russian Empire rose, Catherine the Great wanted to incorporate Crimea into Russia. In the mid-19th century, the Crimean War broke out, in which French and English armies fought against the Russian invasion to halt the expansion of the Russian Empire. The King of Piemonte also sent an army to Crimea in 1853. Many plaques and monuments in Piemonte still commemorate this. Unfortunately for the Crimean Tartars, the Russians won, and many Tartars were deported. Crimea was Russian territory from 1856 to 1954. On the outskirts of the city lies the Livadia Palace, where the Yalta Conference took place in 1945. Because Stalin didn’t want to travel far, Churchill and the already ailing Franklin Roosevelt were forced to come to Yalta, where they stayed for eight days. The fate of Europe would be decided there. And in 2014, Crimea was again in the spotlight when Putin illegally annexed the territory.

Photo: Massandra winery in Yalta

Wines from Yalta, Magaratch, and Massandra
Viticulture existed during or before the arrival of the Greeks in the fifth century BC. During the Ottoman era, viticulture continued — partly for tax revenue. In the 19th century, Count Vorontsov founded the Magaratch Institute, which conducts scientific research on plants, agriculture, and viticulture. This institute still exists and is one of the oldest research institutes in the world. It has over 3,000 grape varieties in experimental vineyards. It is known that Prince Golitzin began producing a “champagne” in 1870, but the Prussian botanist Peter Simon Pallas had already produced sparkling wine here around 1799. Crimean Sekt was a well-known brand for many years, sold primarily in Russia and Ukraine. 30,000 bottles were also once sold in the Netherlands. However, the most famous Crimean wines are the reserve wines of Magaratch and Massandra.
Massandra has since been “sold” to a Russian billionaire, and thus, after 2014, the Russians also took control of Crimea’s viticulture. Naturally, Ukraine disputes the validity of these transactions. Worse still, the extremely rare and valuable stock in Massandra’s cellars is being irreparably damaged. This is yet another gross violation of international law by Russia. In the same way, some oligarchs have bought several wineries in the region. Nobody knows how many of the precious Massanda bottles remain.

Photo: impression of the stock present in the cellars of Massandra. The oldest bottle is of 1871

Visiting Massandra winery, August 1994
The Massandra winery was built in 1890 by order of Tsar Nicholas II: his ambition was to create the best winery in the world. Finally, after so many kilometers of travel, the time has come, and we are going to visit Massandra. The lady welcomes us kindly but formally. She is dressed in a white lab coat and will guide us through the Massandra complex. We enter the building, and the woman in the white coat leads us down the elevator. The cellar complex is three floors underground. Breathlessly, we walk past long rows of old bottles covered in thick layers of dust. History lies here. Some of these wines were enjoyed here by Tolstoy and Chekhov. Here lies one of the world’s most impressive reserves of old bottles, more than 20,000 bottles. Apparently, there are even a few bottles dating back to 1775.
Rumor has it that Putin opened one of these Crimean sherries from the 1775 vintage for Berlusconi. Where else in the world can you find a cellar filled with thousands of bottles over 100 years old that are still perfectly drinkable? During the 1917 revolution, the tunnels were blocked, thus protecting the wines. This proved more difficult during World War II: shortly before the Germans invaded the winery, many of the wines were shipped to three secret locations in Georgia. However, substantial quantities were forced to be left behind, and the 1941 harvest could not be saved. A legend has it that the Black Sea turned red when the Germans poured these wines into it.
We were deeply impressed. And to our great joy, the woman in the white coat led us to the tasting room where she opened three bottles for us. They are sweet wines, sherry-like, and made in the Port style. There’s also a rich, sweet Muscat wine that the ladies especially loved. What a richness! This was a highlight.

Photo: in the cellars of Massandra winery

Magaratch, September 1994, radioactive grapes
That same day, we visited the Magaratch Institute, part of Kyiv University. They let me try a glass of Rkatsiteli, but it was highly oxidized and had some volatile aromas. This is old-style winemaking, without temperature control and probably with high yields in the vineyard. Only much later I tasted fine Rkatsiteli wines, especially in Georgia. I now know that Rkatsiteli can also produce fine wines in Russia and Ukraine, with pure fruit and an elegant style. But this was 1994. The 1991 revolution had only just ended, and all the companies had to shift their production to other markets in a short time. I wondered how such wines could find a market.
Finally, after this tasting, we visited the institute’s director, a venerable, elderly professor. A group of scientists and colleagues were present and listened to the old man with great respect. We talked about the institute, its history, and the important work they do: viticultural research. The professor also talked about his experiences with the nuclear fallout following the Chernobyl disaster. Naturally, extensive research was conducted after the fallout, including analyzing the grapes.
The grapes will start the fermentation, converting the sugars into alcohol and carbon dioxide. An interesting discovery was made at this point: radioactivity was measured during and after fermentation. It turned out that the grapes contained relatively high levels of radioactive material immediately after harvest, but after fermentation, the level of radioactivity in the must had decreased significantly. What does this mean? If the wine has a much lower level of radioactivity than freshly harvested grapes, it’s possible that a significant portion of the radioactivity remains in the skins and therefore doesn’t end up in the wine.
It’s likely that the higher radiation levels after Chernobyl didn’t hinder the functioning of the yeast cells. The yeast cells, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, were able to function, allowing the must to ferment. It’s said that microorganisms often exhibit high resistance to ionizing radiation. Incidentally, several studies show that the radiation levels found in European wines after Chernobyl were well below the thresholds that pose a risk to human health.
I don’t know if further research has been done on this. But it seems to me that this fact reaffirms that fermentation is such an incredibly interesting process. Those tiny single-celled organisms, yeast cells, can therefore trigger such a transformation.
With many new ideas and experiences, we drove back to Yalta and had dinner with our friends.

Photo: the Magaratch Institute in Yalta

Out and about in nature near Yalta
On Sunday, we walked along a narrow footpath that ran along the sea. We walked for miles along the coast. In some places, there was a beach, sometimes there were only rocks. Sometimes there were some shrubs or a few houses, and sometimes the path was very narrow. We kept going. After a few kilometers, we came to a small cottage. It sat there alone, right on the coast, in a charming spot. We rested for a bit, and a man invited us in, and there was a pleasant surprise! Hungry, we sat down at the table, and he offered us a delicious lunch. The room was quite warm, and from the windows, we could see the Black Sea. This is hospitality!
Back in Yalta, we stayed close to the sea and soaked up all the impressions. The beautiful promenade is right there, and a few people are strolling about. Once on the beach, I noticed that some of the people were quite corpulent, and I shared my impressions with Oleg. Oleg bursts out laughing. “Yes, Paul, that means they’re wealthy! That’s how it is here!”
We stretched out and enjoyed the peace, the sun, and the slowly rippling sea. People are lying all around us, often in groups. It’s idyllic. “And where do all these people come from?” I ask. “Half are from Ukraine, and the others are from Russia,” he says. Obviously, in that period it was quite normal to find Russians and Ukrainians enjoying the beaches of Yalta peacefully together. Years later, it would become impossible, but we didn’t know that then.

Photo: the vineyards near Livadia. The Crimea has alwas been an important wine producing area.

The next day we returned to Kyiv, where my train to the Netherlands was soon waiting. It was a fascinating experience getting to know Crimea. It’s understandable that all the people from Ukraine and Russia, and from far and wide, love to spend their holidays here. And the wines were a unique experience I’ll never forget.

That was Yalta, Crimea, Ukraine, in 1994. This was a time when Russians and Ukrainians lived peacefully together and also enjoyed the fine wines together. There are other wine regions in Ukraine and Russia, but none can compete with Crimea, an area with such superb natural conditions, perfectly suited to wine production.

Photo: wine tasting in Massandra winery. In the Crimea there used to be a lot of sherry-style and port-stye wines. Also Muscat wines have always been quite comon. As the traditional drinkers in the Russian empire considered the sweet wines the best wines, there used to be a dominance of sweet wines.

*ANNEX: THE PRESENT SITUATION:
The illegal annexation in 2014 by Russia changed the situation. But it is remarkable to know that in June 1954 the Supreme Soviet of Russia adopted amendments to the Russian Constitution, which made it possible that Crimea was added to the Constitution of the Ukrainian SSR. The reason was partly that Crimea had closer economic collaboration with Ukraine than with the Russian territories. The idea that Ukraine would ever become independent and take Crimea with it was not on the agenda in that period. Within Russia itself, opinions are also divided: some applauded the takeover of Crimea in 2014, and enthusiastically proclaimed that Russia had a new wine region. Others were skeptical and disagreed with Putin’s action.
Before 2014, several Russian wineries were already active in Crimea. The Sevastopol Winery was owned by the Ukrainian state, and its fate is now less clear. Incidentally, wineries also had a tough time under the Ukrainian regime, mainly due to the exorbitantly high cost of licensing wine. Russia has the same rules; in that respect, the situation was identical in both countries.

In the Spring of 2024, I contacted the photographer Arsen Fedosenko. He enthusiastically invited me to Ukraine and gave me a lot of information.
He wrote these words:
“I am most angry about the injustice. Russia’s attack on Ukraine is the final act of historical injustice that has been going on for four centuries.
This is my people’s decisive struggle for the right to exist, the right to be themselves—and we have no right to lose it. After all, the Russians want to destroy us. Physically. To all of you.
What I admire most are the people who have challenged this injustice and risk their lives at every moment.
In my photo series, I want to tell you about Ukrainians, reveal the essence of the Creator and the Warrior, inclined towards us from ancient times.
I would like to introduce you to the land of dreams, the land of free and hardworking people. Its name is Ukraine.” ‘

Arsen Fedosenko died on June 10, 2024, near Kharkiv.

Photo: The conference of Yalta, February 1945. At this conference, Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin decided on the future division of Europe.

Many thanks to Oleg Yanovitski and Yulia and the faculty for Biology of the university of Kyiv.

SOURCES:
– spoken sources
– Wikipedia
– Brittanica
– For more information about Yalta, read the blog of Andrew Marcus who was in Yalta in September 2020:
https://www.andrewmarcus.me/travel/yalta-sep-2020