Hungary, land of the Magyars, has had a tough 20th century.
90 years ago, this bridge connected two parts of Hungary.
But after defeat in World War I they lost so much land that this is now an international frontier.
But the cathedral on the hill at Esztergom
remains one of the great symbols of Hungarian national pride.
Dominating the Danube, it was where Stephen,
their first Christian king, was crowned 1,000 years ago.
The castle at Visegrad is another reminder of a proud past, and in the town below,
crowds are gathering to celebrate the heroic years of the Middle Ages.
But more recent traumas are clearly not forgotten.
It's interesting, these are maps of Hungary...
before World War I. It was actually two thirds bigger than it is now.
Land was taken away by the peace treaty of Trianon in 1920.
They're selling a lot so it's obviously something
that smoulders deeply under the surface there for the Hungarians.
Today, it's the 15th century they're celebrating -
the days of Matthias Corvinus, the king who raised one of Europe's first standing armies
and helped rally the peoples of Europe to take arms against the Ottoman Turks.
Here in Visegrad, the days of valour and chivalry are remembered,
and Hungary's golden age is brought briefly back to life.
One of the highlights is a display of horseback archery by Lajos Kassai.
It was a skill perfected by the armies of Attila the Hun.
This technique was a military breakthrough.
An arrow fired at the gallop had twice the piercing power of one fired from stationary.
Kassai can shoot 12 of them in 17 seconds.
As he puts it, "Every Hungarian feels in his heart he is Attila."
Further down the river in the little town of Sentendre, history moves on a bit.
I've been invited to meet some people in a house built as recently as the 1600s.
Hope it's the right house otherwise we're in...
Think so.
Hello, is this the Eredics house?
I'm Michael. Ah, well, it is the right place.
Yes, right place. Great, thank you.
Hello, Michael. I'm Michael.
I'm told this is the one place in Hungary where everything happens.
Hello! Hello!
Oh, I say!
Hello, I'm Michael.
The Eredics family are almost all musicians who play and tour together.
Like many in this town, they came here long ago, from Serbia.
Ah, some goulash bubbling.
Is it goulash or is it just...?
Ah, goldfish, I see.
It's a heated goldfish pond!
Mmmm!
The goldfish, I have to say, are absolutely wonderful, even if they do taste a bit like pork.
You make soups that are popular. Yeah, very popular.
English soups are a bit thin. These are big.
Very rich. We would say in England, we'd say this is a stew, almost.
Yeah, but it's not a stew, it's a soup. Yeah.
After the meal, they display not just their virtuosity
but the gypsy influences that seem to lie at the heart of Central European music.
Very sadly, the time comes to leave this talented and hospitable family
and embark on the last leg of my journey to Budapest.
Oh dear, it's gone without me.
Oh, well, there's bound to be another along soon.
And the later you arrive in Budapest the better.
The city at night is magnificent.
I'm staying at the Gellert, a Budapest landmark.
Now nearly 90 years old, its glories may be fading,
but the Gellert still sits at the heart of Budapest life.
I look out at Freedom Bridge which connects what were once two cities -
Buda and, on the other side, Pest.
The river is as busy as the roads,
as boats leave for Bratislava and Vienna.
The Gellert Spa comes with instructions.
"Please read carefully our short introduction to the usage of the spa facilities,
"which will help you to enjoy the unique experience of the 80-year-old Gellert bath.
"From the hotel, you have to go to the elevator at the north wing of the building,
"which you can access on the second, third or fourth floors.
"Follow the signs and you won't miss the manned elevator.
"Best practice is, if you change in your own room or suite and you enter the elevator in your bathing suit
"and bath robe, you won't waste time with changing or spending valuable minutes in the locker rooms."
This way for the pool?
"During the trip with the elevator, from the attendant you will get a plastic card,
"which you'll need to get through the entrance gate when entering and leaving the baths area."
Ah, this is the famous card I need to get in the pool?
Yes. Always have this? OK. Always take the card. Thank you.
"As you come out of this elevator, please turn to the right
"and show the bar code on the card to the sensor screen at the entry machine.
"Walk through the main hall past the public cash desk.
"First entrance on the right is the thermal baths for ladies only.
"In the centre is the indoor pool and the access to the outdoor pool
"and then the entrance to the thermal baths for gentlemen,
"which is the third entrance on the right.
"In case of any question, please turn to our front desk staff or the hostess of the baths."
By the time I reach the sun terrace, I feel like Ulysses.
And not a moment too soon.
My body's whiter than the towels.
Ah! ..That's better.
No sooner have I started sunbathing than I feel an urgent need to cool down.
The pool looks wonderfully inviting.
But deep in the bowels of the hotel, something is stirring.
No-one had warned me that every hour, on the hour, the paddlers' peace is shattered.
Wave after wave scours the pool like a rip-tide.
The Gellert wave machine is in action, as it has been since the 1930s.
Toddlers, teenagers and TV presenters are tossed about like flotsam. It's wonderful!
The finest building on the waterfront is the Parliament,
built at the height of the Austro-Hungarian empire.
My guide is Peter Zwack, who, as a child, escaped Nazi-occupied Budapest.
He later became Hungarian ambassador in Washington and after that an independent MP.
So he knows his way around.
Was this wonderful building much damaged during the war?
It was very bad. It was first bombed by the Soviets.
And after, by the Allies.
The city...
You can still see it today,
even though the city was rebuilt pretty much.
But you still see bullet-holes and...
In the extravagantly grand Chamber of Representatives, deputies sat throughout the Communist years,
rubber-stamping decisions made at party headquarters.
I never thought this would change.
I thought until my death, we were going to live under Communism.
And it happened one day to the other.
If you were in Parliament now, Peter, what would you be fighting for?
I'd be still fighting for the corruption...
Against corruption.
Today, the biggest problem in a small country like this is envy.
Envy, jealousy, hatred. Because there are such social differences
due to the breaking in of freedom.
People got very rich illegally.
So there's a real hatred towards these new rich.
Nothing I've learnt on my journey prepares me for Hungarian, one of Europe's least-spoken languages.
But I'm determined to give it a try and have chosen the Budapest subway system as my first victim.
This is the dangerous bit. I've been learning this for weeks!
We'll see if it works.
HE SPEAKS HUNGARIAN
Am I going to get a hippopotamus? No, a ticket! Brilliant! Thank you.
How mu...?
Opened in 1896, this was the very first underground system in mainland Europe.
I get off halfway along Andrassy, the smart boulevard of Budapest,
one of whose neo-classical mansions harbours a sinister past.
There was one house on this grand and elegant street where you never wanted to end up.
For a while, it was the most feared address in Budapest - 60 Andrassy Street.
Now a museum called the House of Terror,
Number 60 had been headquarters of both Fascist, and later, Communist secret police.
On display in one gallery is the propaganda of communism.
It projected a wholesome, progressive world.
But as early as 1956, the Hungarian people could see through it.
NEWSREEL: 'Throughout the city, Soviet war memorials come crashing down.
'Budapest is in revolt.
'With uncontrolled fury crowds set fire to Russian flags and put Soviet books to the torch.
'A red star is sent tumbling.'
The Hungarian uprising was the first big test of Moscow's control of her European satellites.
'Rebels ride tanks triumphantly in the streets.
'The Russians have given their word that they will withdraw
'all Communist troops from Hungarian soil. Their victory seems complete.'
But the troops did go back in.
The uprising was crushed and its leaders subjected to a show trial.
In a room papered with legal documents, the film of the trial runs on a loop,
including the moment when the ultimate punishment was passed on Prime Minister Imre Nagy,
a Communist, but not Moscow's kind of Communist.
Hungary had to wait more than 30 years before it could properly
taste the freedom it had come so close to winning in 1956.
But perhaps the most unsettling exhibit in the House of Terror is in the lift.
It's a macabre interview with a retired prison service employee who attended executions.
After the uprising, thousands of Hungarians were executed in places like this,
along with their Prime Minister, Imre Nagy.
More than 250,000 fled abroad.
It's a relief to get back to the noise and bustle of the boulevard.
But the one good thing about the whole grim story is that in 1989,
there was a reburial ceremony for Imre Nagy,
here in Heroes Square.
Maybe it's a left-over from the wealthy years at the heart of a Central European empire
but Budapest exudes a stylishly confident approach to the way things look.
And Katti Zoob, a theatrical costumier turned designer,
is carrying on the tradition with some very cool fashions.
Then why on earth has she asked me to be one of her models?
Hello, hello! Hello, Michael. It's Michael, yes.
I've come to this kind of as a duty, to be dressed for something or other.
Welcome. So, yes, I'm in your hands. They're waiting for you.
I've been in a terrible tizzy as to what to wear.
I mean, these are not my sort of places at all.
Lovely. Think I'd look nice in one of those? It's wonderful. Hello.
I'd like to introduce Michael to you. Hello, hello. Very nice to meet you. Nice to meet you.
You've been very busy. Oh, thank you.
Lots of wonderful things.
I don't know what you can do for me. You are my favourite!
We'll go in behind the screens, I think. Thank you very much!
Hello! Yes, thank you.
Well, that puts me at my ease a bit.
It's enough, thank you very much.
Is that...? Really? Really.
Don't you measure the inside leg? No. Sorry, no!
I'm just asking because most shop assistants do.
Because maybe I have a mistake!
Thank you. You just sort of like, roughly...
I have a good eye. I have a very good eyes. Yeah.
I'm rather frightened about this, to be honest.
Can you set my mind at rest?
The show will be...
some special, special event for angels and devils,
and I would like if you... Can be a devil?
No! I wanna be a devil. A little bit devil, a little bit angel. Ah, yes, all right.
For example, front sides...
is angel.
Yes. Or front side's the devil. I think it will be interesting.
So I'm going to be sort of bi-moral?
I mean, a bit good, a bit bad? Sorry...bi-moral.
Like bisexual, you know, bi-moral.
Really? Would you like a skirt?
Erm...no, I mean, I think...
Some lace? I think the... I might try that later.
Black lace skirts with white lining.
Yes, now you're talking. A sort of see-through kilt.
No, I would like...
Tonight I'm seeing a rather different side of Budapest.
I've been invited to eat at the Karpatia, which proclaims itself
"The Classic Hungarian Restaurant of Budapest since 1877".
The owner, Akos Niklai, wants me to hear his discoveries - two gypsy violinists, father and son.
Their piece de resistance is an intricate piece by the Romanian
composer Dinicu, called The Lark, and it always brings the house down.
SOLO VIOLIN IMITATES BIRDSONG.
What a lark!
As they take a break, Akos deals gracefully with some rather impertinent questions.
The Hungarians are people of impeccable taste and very inventive people,
but you haven't had much luck in wars - you've always backed the losing side.
It happens twice, to Hungary but it is not always depending
on the Hungarians. Due to the location of the Hungary.
As a result of this, 50% of the territory of Hungary was taken away,
and again, in the Second World War,
we had bad luck, but you also have to remember
the location of Hungary, where we are located, and obviously Hungary has a sort of strategic location.
Do you find there's any tendency in Hungarians to be depressive.
I read somewhere that the country had the highest suicide rate in the world.
I would say yes and no.
Erm, Hungarians have different moods.
Sometimes we are very sad, sometimes we are extremely happy.
But there are situations when it is hard to handle the pressure, maybe we are a little bit depressed,
but, er...that's life.
Another example of Hungarian flair is a national drink called Unicum,
a digestif produced to a secret formula by none other than my friend Peter Zwack,
and he's asked me to a tasting.
In the cellars, he tells me how huge barrels of it were once used to bridge the Danube.
These barrels were floated on the Danube as so-called pontoon bridges
because the temporary wooden bridges were housed on top of these barrels.
The pontoon of Unicum. The pontoon of Unicum.
Was the Unicum in the barrels at the time?
That I don't know. I don't know if they would have sunk or not.
You realise what a powerful bridge it was.
How popular is Unicum here? It is very popular because if you take Hungary,
which has a population of ten million people, we sell five million bottles only in Hungary,
so every second person drinks it.
So it's very, very popular.
So who knows the secret?
It's still in the family.
Now it is actually my wife and I who know it.
We always say we can't afford to divorce!
But it's really a secret recipe,
and we very carefully watch it.
It is rather complicated how you, the herbs in Unicum come from all over the world.
It's unique. There's nothing like it.
And the success of it,
we kiddingly say that 50% of the people will never drink it again once they try it,
but the other 50% gets hooked on it. They will never drink anything else.
This is the moment of truth.
The moment of truth when you know, er, when you taste this.
I hope we're not going to end our short-born friendship.
No, we'll remain friends, but you might have to come and visit me in hospital.
OK, you have to tap it a little bit because...
There we go... Do you drink it every day?
I drink it every day. One shot like this, half a glass, every evening.
Two glasses of wine and Unicum.
Here we go. Let's see if I'm one of the 50% who do or the 50% who don't.
Knock it back in one? No, no. I would say sip it, enjoy it, if you can!
Oh, Mmm!
That's magnificent. It really is. I love that.
It's like being in a forest in the middle of a gale.
Everything's blown at you, all sorts of tastes.
I love the way it finish.
It's very, very lively. Great.
Complex. Yes.
And it's a bit fiery later on. Yeah.
It is like a blast of concentrated mountain countryside.
I've one more engagement left in this seductive city.
Tonight is my debut as a model at Katti Zoob's summer show.
You usually have a quiet time? We are ready.
Everything is under control, because I have a number of helpers.
And you've done it before, haven't you? You've done this before.
You've talked to audiences and they all love you. I bet they go, "Katti!
"Yeah, my girl."
I'll let you have a little bit of peace and quiet.
I'll go and talk to some of my fellow models.
6:30, and the guests are arriving.
Suddenly it's, well, serious.
The doors are drawn back and the eyes of Budapest's fashionistas turn expectantly towards me.
Hello, good evening.
As the oldest and least beautiful of all the models here tonight,
it is a great honour for me to be able to start this show.
As you can see, Katti has brought out the devil in me tonight.
This is going to be the theme. She is a marvellous designer.
It's been wonderful to work with her.
Now, it's time. On with the show!
It's all over far too soon for my liking.
But thanks to Katti, my transformation from quiet Sheffield lad
to outrageous old fashion queen is complete.
Keleti Station is Budapest's gateway to the east.
In its size, scale and the flourish of its architecture, it's typically Hungarian.
I'm looking for the Tisza Express that runs between Budapest and Lviv in the Ukraine.
The Tisza, named after the second river of Hungary,
connects the capital with the agricultural lands to the east.
I've grown rather used to being in Budapest.
It's so much the centre of the country, with about 20% of the population living here.
I've little idea what the countryside beyond will look and feel like.
I just hope the flowers aren't plastic, like the ones on the train.
Now, this looks like my sort of place!
Mad is well worth the detour, for despite the angry and possibly mad dogs,
it's the home of something rather special.
This is Mad. The joke doesn't work in Hungarian because it has an accent so it is actually "Mard".
But it's a small, modest village.
Yet on the slopes here are grown one of the most highly prized wines in the world.
These are the vines from which the sweet wine Tokaji is made.
In the Soviet years, they produced quantity rather than quality.
But now, winemakers produce bottles costing several hundred pounds.
The secret is mixing wine from these grapes with others affected by botrytis,
or noble rot, which produces aszu,
a juice from which wine is made of the colour and price of gold.
Istvan Turoczi manages production for the British-owned Royal Tokaji Company.
It's lovely.
Stretching back to quite a long time.
Yeah. Hundreds of years.
The wine is matured in dark caves over 100ft below ground,
a suitable place for Istvan to tell me of the mysterious power of Tokaji Aszu.
It has been a very famous wine for a long time.
Who are the great people who have enjoyed this?
For example, the Queen Mother loved it very much, who lived for 102 years.
She loved Tokaji wines, Aszu wines.
Our Queen Mother? Yes, she did.
She was very discerning.
And who else?
Queen Victoria, who got as present a dozen of Aszu wine for each birthday.
The number of dozens were as much as her age.
So it ended at her birthday of 81 with 972 bottles of Aszu wine
of different very good vintages of the region.
The advantage of living a long time.
Yes. Did they get a reaction from Queen Victoria?
Did she say, "You can stop now, I'm not gonna finish these."
No, she loved the wine as well as Queen Elizabeth.
The beautiful nine-arch bridge, built almost 200 years ago,
carries me over the Tisza River towards the Puszta, the Great Hungarian Plain.
Legend has it that this land of distant horizons was where Attila the Hun died
of a nasal flux brought on by strenuous sexual activity with his new bride.
If only the bicycle had been invented then, he could have had a much more healthy hobby.
Nowadays, the plain is the province of cowboys called chicos,
and their herds of massive and rather intimidating Hungarian Grey Cattle.
Traditional methods are still used here.
The chicos water their livestock from shadoof-style wells, like those I've seen in Africa.
Thank you.
This is now a national park, and the survival of the Hungarian cowboy is in the hands of visitors like us.
Picking up the Tisza Express again, I take it through to the frontier town
of Zahony, and from there across into the Ukraine my 12th country so far.
Crossing the border is an uplifting experience...
quite literally!
This is Chop, just over the Ukrainian border. It's the middle of the night.
Because of the incompatibility of the European and Russian rail networks, that are on different gauge,
every coach has to be jacked up into the air and they've got to physically change all the bogeys.
That's what they're doing at the moment.
You can see people are on the train,
in the middle of the night, and six feet up in the air. These will all be changed.
It is quite dramatic, but who's going to change, the Russian rail network, or the European rail network?
This goes on.
The train, having been re-wheeled in an hour flat, we're on our way and back to sleep.
A grey dawn in the Carpathians.
The weather's very different on this side of the mountains.
Not the most beautiful introduction to the city of Lviv,
whose identity has been as murky as the weather, changing its name four times in the last 90 years.
Since 1991, it's been the western gateway to the Ukraine.
Over the last century, armies and administrations swept in and out of Lviv with alarming regularity,
but it was always the intellectual and spiritual home of Ukrainian nationalism.
Not a great day for sightseeing or for getting married.
And they're digging the streets up.
But the prosperity that came from Lviv's days as a frontier town between Europe and Russia
has left a legacy even the weather can't dampen.
A damp morning in the Carpathians, and now a wet Sunday in Leviv. But are we downhearted?
No, because, for me at any rate, this place is an undiscovered gem.
At various times in its history, it's been Austrian, German, Polish, Russian, now Ukrainian and it shows.
I mean, if you look around it, even on a lousy day like this, this is a truly European city.
Leviv is somewhere I'll come back to.
It has a civilised charm that deserves another chance.
And the dogs are friendly.
I've been this way before, but when I last took a train to Kiev, it wasn't part of the Ukraine.
I was filming Pole to Pole and this was still the USSR.
On that journey, I got talking to a young Ukrainian called Vadim.
He said he sensed something in the air, something dangerous and exciting.
I see Ukrainian history being revived, I see Ukrainian culture,
you know, the culture which many people thought is gone forever,
we are getting back to some of our roots.
There is so much to do here.
If one feels Ukrainian, if one feels it's one's roots,
this is a very exciting period to live through in the history of this land.
And so it proved to be. The collapse of the USSR led, eventually,
to the election of Viktor Yushchenko as president and the charismatic Yulia Tymoshenko as Prime Minister.
They called it the Orange Revolution.
SHE SPEAKS IN UKRAINIAN
But Victor and Yulia fell out.
And when I arrive in Kiev for a second time,
the ecstatic scenes in Independence Square are already a distant memory.
There are still tents in the square.
But there's a confusion in the camps.
An election has just delivered a hung parliament.
Yulia can't work with Viktor, and Viktor can't work with parties that support closer links to Russia.
There's deadlock.
Until it's broken, the faithful have pledged to stay on the streets.
Who better to turn to for an explanation than the stranger I met on the train all those years ago?
The eyes of the world were on this square during the Orange Revolution
a couple of years ago and the flags are out again.
Is this democracy in action in the Ukraine?
You know, the real problem is that many people in this country,
after so many years of Russian empire
and of the Soviet empire, they were used to been ruled by a strong hand,
which does everything very effectively without thinking about such things as democracy
or human rights or whatever it is.
So, when we've suddenly got this president that we have now and there's a new government,
which is democratic in its ideas,
which means slow and not as effective as the authoritarian regimes, many people just don't get it.
They say we want a strong... We want discipline, we want order.
There are a lot of young people out there in the tented city.
Do they believe in a democratic future for Ukraine?
I think they're beginning to understand that this...
strange beast called democracy includes a number of very pragmatic things
that young people want to have,
like the possibility to go abroad and study there, like the possibility
to speak openly without being afraid of the policemen behind you.
We last met 15 years ago
and you made a prediction, you said things are going to move slowly, but they are going to change.
When we next meet, if we're both still alive, in 15 years' time,
what do you think you'll be saying about the world then and about Ukraine?
Ukraine by that time should be much more sovereign,
much more independent, well, of course, much more prosperous.
Hopefully, a part, a real part, of the European family
and, perhaps, led politically by a good-looking lady.
Who could that be?
Well, there are a couple of...
And there are a few photos around.
Let's have a look. How do you like that lady there? Oh, yes, she's nice. Who knows?
In 15 years, she could grow up to become a leading politician.
Basing her appeal on an image of wholesome Ukrainian womanhood,
Yulia Tymoshenko is still eye-catching, but now she has competition from her daughter.
In a Kiev monastery, Eugenia Tymoshenko recently married Sean Carr,
a market trader from Leeds.
Sean's not a politician.
# Well, all right
# Sayin' it's nothin' he cracks a joke
# The whole world's goin' up in smoke... #
He's a Death Valley Screamer.
Unable to make much headway in the UK, the group he founded has taken Ukraine by storm.
Sean and Eugenia have thrown themselves behind the Tymoshenko campaign,
and I catch up with them on a morale-boosting visit to the troops.
I mean, Sean, you're a Yorkshireman. We don't do this sort of thing in England, do we?
Put up tents in Westminster Square?
Good Lord, no. I don't know...
What do you think of it?
At first, I thought it was very strange. It was a massive shock.
But now, I'm ready to do this, this is not just a last resort,
this is a peaceful way of resolving things.
It's an amazing situation, and amazing to meet someone like yourself,
so we'll watch, we'll see what goes on.
Let's have a look around.
I'm not the only one following them around.
As they don't get much time to themselves here,
they invite me to their country house for lunch the next day.
# Born to be wild
# Born to be wild... #
Sean doesn't do public transport or a saddle, actually.
But he doesn't half get you there fast!
That's the way to arrive.
The bike may be top of the market, but the house, in the woods outside Kiev,
is quite modest by the standards of pop aristocracy.
As we sit and have a drink,
I can't help thinking that my fellow Yorkshireman fits in well here.
There's a touch of the Cossack about him.
Does your mother-in-law like your music?
Yes, she likes it to a certain extent.
I don't imagine she'd go out there and bop around to it, but, yes, she likes what we're doing.
She appreciates that we've worked really hard
and we've brought a new sort of music here.
It's very strange because what we do in England, I mean,
you sit every night in the pub, you walk in, there's a band playing.
Whereas here, you play and the reaction is just phenomenal.
Everybody, I mean, we've had 70-year-old grandmas coming wearing Death Valley Screamer shirts.
They're all bopping around.
It's just like, hang on a minute, what's going on here?
It's fantastic.
I was just going to say that my mum wanted to keep him
dressed on the stage because he always takes his shirt off.
She was worried about that.
After some time, she accepted that's the way to be - rock and roll.
That's very English, you have fun, take your shirt off. Let your hair down.
If your mother came to power,
do you think there'd be a chance of a cabinet post for Sean?
He wants to be Minister of Roads, I think.
I want to get the roads sorted out.
First job.
I think Sean would be a good adviser
on the system of the road and how they should be.
Minister of Rock and Roads.
That would be good, wouldn't it? Yes.
I think you were the first Soviet girl, one of the first Soviet girls
ever to go to an English public school.
Has this been a good experience for you?
I really enjoyed my years there.
I think, although some papers say the system is not very good any more,
you know, the public school system should be changed,
but I think it's great. It's a great system.
That's very good for Rugby!
They'll like that.
What attracted a demure, English public school girl like yourself,
to this wild, rock 'n' rolling motorbike...maniac?
The first time I saw him, he looked really unusual
and I've always liked bikes and music like this
so I thought, "Ah! He's a rock musician!"
I said, "I have to pass by him and see what he looks like."
Afterwards, you know, it's not really about bikes and music, it's more about Sean's personality.
He's a really, really kind person,
and a lovely, lovely person,
so that's what it's about.
And, of course, it's adds a lot of excitement.
Something that I've never tried before. It was just the bike, be honest about it!
Yes, I have to admit it to you.
As Sean drives me back, I can't help hoping his mother-in-law will one day get back into power.
Ukraine could use a new Minister of Roads.
Kiev could be a European city with its glittering skyline of Christian monasteries,
but the huge 300ft monument called Nation's Mother, given to the city in Soviet times,
faces towards Moscow and there are many here who would like Ukraine to do the same.
The Dnieper River flows through Kiev to the Black Sea, close to my next port of call, the Crimea.
Thousands make for the Crimean coast every summer,
leaving the train at Simferopol and continuing on by trolleybus.
The route was opened in 1959 as cheap travel for the masses.
But it's not just any old suburban service,
it covers 51 miles and crosses a 2,500-foot pass.
The Number 52 from Simferopol to Yalta is one of the great trolley bus journeys of the world.
Mind you, it does take three hours.
I've come all this way because in February 1945,
a conference was held here in Yalta that was to change the face of Europe.
This is the Levadia Palace, the summer home of Russia's last tsar, the ill-fated Nicholas II.
It's also the place where, in 1945, the fate of Europe was decided
by three powerful men - Josef Stalin of the USSR,
President Roosevelt of the USA, and Britain's Winston Churchill.
President Roosevelt was a sick man.
Observers described him as looking frail and ill.
And indeed, within three months of the conference, he'd be dead.
But because of his condition he was given a room here at Levadia Palace.
It was only a short wheelchair ride from there through into the main conference chamber.
Around this table, the Big Three leaders and their delegations
argued for four days over the borders and boundaries of their new Europe.
When the day's horse trading was over, Churchill and the British delegation returned to their villa.
It was built by Count Vorontsov.
He spent 20 years and a countless fortune building it and never lived in it.
Churchill loved this lion, particularly.
He told Stalin, "It's like me, only without the cigar."
In the great hall of the Vorontsov villa, subsidiary meetings were held by the foreign ministers
to thrash out the fine detail.
Whether the Vorontsov villa was bugged or not is a moot point
but two observations by one of Churchill's party suggest someone might have been listening in.
For instance, in completely private conversations, someone would mention they'd seen a fish tank
and it was empty of fish. Two days later, full of goldfish.
A similar confidential conversation about not finding enough lemon peel for the cocktails
resulted two days later in a lemon tree in the conservatory.
Maybe coincidence!
Behind the conviviality, the toastings and the mutual backslapping,
one inescapable fact hung over all their discussions -
the Red Army already occupied Eastern Europe.
And because of their vast resources of men and materials, Stalin wasn't prepared to give an inch.
At the end of the final session, Stalin put his name to a document
promising free and unfettered elections in all the countries occupied by the Red Army.
They never happened.
Within weeks, Churchill had written to Roosevelt
saying that he thought they'd signed up to a fraudulent manifesto.
This was scant consolation for the people of the Baltic states,
of Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia and Romania.
For us, the war ended in 1945.
For them, as a result of what was signed here it could have been said to have gone on for another 50 years.
I'd always imagined Yalta to be a cold, grey place,
so it's quite a shock to find it's the holiday destination of choice
for Ukrainians and Russians, with packed beaches and some interesting twin cities.
Pozzuoli, Italy,
Rhodes, Greece,
Sanya...
China,
Hujisawa, Japan!
And Margate, England.
Hello, Margate!
You're remembered in Yalta.
I wonder if those sandwiched on these beaches have any idea of Yalta's claim to fame?
I ask Anya, a local girl who's working to bring even more tourists here.
Do many of the people who come here, or indeed yourself who lives here,
do they know about the peace conference in Yalta in 1945? Of course.
In Levadia Palace where that was held is one of the most popular sightseeing objects.
So people are aware that Stalin, and Churchill and Roosevelt got here, and the significance for Europe?
That is true. That is correct.
What do people think of Stalin?
Erm, well, there are different points of view on that.
Some people who remember the Communist days
treat him as a very fair and very...firm leader.
But some think that he was too cruel, I would say.
What do you think, from your studies?
I've studied from different books and I'm still looking for my answer.
You live here, would you go and sunbathe on a beach like that over there? I know better places.
I know my own places.
Crimean politicians were traditionally pro-Moscow, but, as we walk along the prom
I'm quite surprised to find the great revolutionary himself still on his feet, staring sternly out to sea.
Why has Lenin survived here in Yalta, in the Ukraine, after all, not even in Russia,
when in so many other places, they've removed him.
Well, Crimea was Russian until 1954.
And people here, like in the east of Ukraine, are pro-Russian,
and many of them have positive, nice memories of the Soviet days,
and it was decided to keep the monument as part of the historical heritage.
After all, you cannot tear a page out of history, can you?
But tonight is my last night here,
and I decide to close the history books and surrender to the relentless hedonism of Margate's twin town.
Now, if I were here with my grandson Archie, what he would want to see me doing?
Oh, no. No! Not this!
I've got a feeling there are things about Yalta that I shall remember even more than the peace conference.
Here we go!
Ooh! Woah! Ooh!
Aargh! Wo-hoah!
Argh! A-hargh!
Woah! Ugh! Ugh!
Ugh! Ugh!
I'm glad I wore my jacket!
Ha-ha! Now I can throw up in the pocket!
This is the furthest east I'll get in New Europe.
Next time I'll be in the Baltics.
Aaargh!
Weargh! Wo-hoah!
Wo-hoah! We-hey!
OK, I confess, I never wanted to do another series!
Himalaya was enough for me!
I'll never do another one! Wo-hoah!
Archie, if you can see me now, I did it for you!