The Best Eastern
Outside the entrance to the hotel, as elsewhere in Ukraine (Moldova, too), as far as I could tell, women seemed to do most of the work, sweeping, especially.
The Best Eastern was not quite up to the standard of Best Westerns in the United States, but the room was adequate. Perhaps the most surprising feature of the hotel, however, was the question the receptionist asked when we arrived: would any of us care to share a room–not with each other, mind you, but with a stranger. I was paying for everyone’s room and certainly had planned for Natasha and me each to have a single. The driver said he was willing to share, but my American squeamishness prevailed, and I paid for him to have a single room.