Our train, heading from Kyiv to Simferopol, has already been stopped for an hour and a half at Melitopol railway station. The passengers mix in a sleeper-car, watching the Ukrainian border guards through the windows. We can see that the conductor gets nervous when we ask: “When will the train finally leave?”
My fellow travellers are a teacher from a music school in Simferopol - Yelena; and Oleg - a former soldier.
Yelena says: “We do not feel this change. We were scared of the Green Men, but I only saw them a few times in Crimea. But this month my salary is paid on time, on the third, like never before. I am only worried about my son: he is leaving for Kyiv soon, he is 21; the Ukrainian border guards might find a fault with him. I just want them to let him in.”
And Oleg: “My father decided to move to Crimea. As it happens, he feels better here, calmer. But it is impossible to transfer his [Ukrainian] pension money onto his debit card. So I have to get the money myself. Banks aren’t operating in Crimea, and I do not trust money transfer systems”.
While we are talking, three Ukrainian border guards come into the room with a big German Shepherd. The dog, called Ayran, sniffs the baggage. The children from the next sleeper-car pet the dog; the border guard smiles softly.
After one and half hours of inspections the trains sets off. The passengers sigh with relief. But there is another checkpoint in Dzhankoi.
As we cross Perekop, Oleg checks his watch. “Well, time to change to Crimean time. I am going to change to my Russian SIM card, so I can talk with my brother, who lives in Russia."
“There are Russian mobile phone providers in Crimea, but they do not operate yet,” remarks the teacher of music.
“How is that? Two months have passed. They must have started operating here. Perhaps you are wrong. Let’s check”. Oleg changes the SIM and calls his brother.
“Right, it’s roaming. That’s pretty strange. How is that? Two months passed and no Russian mobile phone providers!? That’s a huge marketing opportunity!” the man blasts off.
The Russian border guards take much less time; there are many more guards. They refuse entry to two passengers from Ternopil.
“Who can we talk to, to find out the cause of the refusal?"
"The Embassy of the Russian Federation. Here’s the phone number. Call, find out” says the guard, noting down the passport details of the passengers.
Because of the five hour delay, I do not manage to see the military parade - with Mr Putin, in Sevastopol.
“Crimea is Ours”
Simferopol meets me with the Russian flag. The flags are everywhere. The taxis are decorated with the Ribbon of St George. “To Alushta, Sudak, Yevpatoria”: the drivers states the price, in rubles.



