> Play all stalker trilogy and Call of Chernobyl like no tomorrow > desire to visit the zone increases > Watch videos of pripyat after the disaster > the dilapidated buildings and nature reclaiming its territory is oddly serene and alluring > See all the luggage that were left behind, collecting dust and dirt. It's practically a town sized time capsule, a museum of ruin. > Start planning out visit, start to look up personal tourist guide or something > See an offer, it's shiesty as hell and whoever wrote this is not an English speaker. Not sure if that's a good thing or bad. > Take the offer. Go to Ukraine. Meet the man. ”eey chuvak, here's my tourist! Okay, you can call me er.. Dima sound good?” > “uhh sure sounds good" can't shake off the feeling that you stick out like a sore thumb. But then again you're a tourist so… “Okay so, like agreement from net I take you very close to place. Only take this and do not lose” > hands you a fairly stuffed envelope. You give the guy a look and he simply looks back with the same smile he showed you at the beginning. >you put the envelope inside your duffel bag and get your travel bag ready. “Eager tourist eh? Is good, lots of energy. But we wait for van okay friend?” >”Yeah okay" you yawn out, no matter how excited you are, it's currently tempered by jet lag. > Van arrives, you shuffle to the car and start to load up and drop into the car seat. Sleep nearly overcoming your wake. > Your guide turns around from the front seat “Sleep for while, it might take time to get to destination" > You mumble out an answer and drift into sleep. Last thing you hear is control something punct… Cont. > You must've been sleeping for hours because by the time you wake, it's dusk. Crimson lights illuminate the barbed wire fences and guard posts. >Wait, guard posts? You look around from the car and see soldiers patrolling. “Where are we Di-” “Shh, no words Tourist. Let me do talk okay?” >You see a soldier walk over to the car, rifle shouldered and flashlight ready, then Dima pipes up immediately recognizing the man >Conversation goes on for a while, items gets switches hand for a bit and then light beams onto you. “Хто це?” >Dima answers the man for you, unfortunately years of playing STALKER hasn’t really prepared you to speak neither Russian nor Ukrainian on a competent level. I suppose yelling cyka blyat, rush B and cheeki breeki counts. >Guard looks at you once more and checks the paper given to him by Dima and nods. Dima nods slightly and gives the man a wave. “Стоп!” >Another guard walks to your car, he seems pretty important judging the way he walks and shouts also he has a beret, he’s gotta be important if he has a beret right? The other guy only has a bandana on his head. “кто этот парень?” the driver asks the guard “новый сотрудник” >Whispering goes back and forth from the three and you simply sit in your seat watching the officer get closer. “Документы и идентификация пожалуйста” >”Er.. What did he sa-” “You have your papers cousin?” says Dima >”Cousin? When the he-” “Find papers and identification Cousin, remember? early this afternoon at airport” >You can see the officer’s eye going back and forth scrutinizing every move and words being spoken between you and Dima finally settling on you, like he’s deciding whether to pull you and your “guides” out of the car and start questioning. You don’t think he understands English but those hawk like eyes make it seem like as if he does. >”Oh, yeah the papers let me get them” you say, as you rummage your belongings for that envelope. “Here you go” you give the envelope to Dima. The officer receives the documents and speaks “жди здесь” >He turns around and begins to walk towards the guard house, an uncomfortable silence nestles over the guides while you sit like a hapless tourist that you are and begin to look around the car trying to occupy your thoughts. >The driver strums his fingers over the wheel and Dima sits with his hands folded staring blankly at the glove compartment. They appear to be calm but you know they’re getting restless by the second, especially the driver, He looks like to be ready to step on the pedal. >”I got several questions here Dima, why are we-” Dima cuts you off. “I will explain in due time, for now silence and pray if you believe. I simply keep to agreement” >”The agreement was that I see Pripyat!” You stress in hushed voice. “No, you write: ‘I want to visit the town Pripyat in the zone of exclusion’ and I do this exact to letter. We are going to the Zone" >”But there was no mention of military checkpoint or those probable fake documents, none of this was written on the site! I expected some sort of a tour guide! Not some smuggling plan!” “You never asked, друг. Who says I am an official tour guide?” He chuckled, “Feel free to leave car when you want, I will not stop you. They might” He points to the machine gunner. “No refunds by the way, all sales are final” He laughs once more “Always wanted to say that” >Sensing no good outcome will come of this, you bite your tongue and sink back into your seat, stewing over the conversation. You paid good money damn it, he better know what he’s doing. >After what feels to be an eternity, the beret man comes to the van handing back the papers and giving the driver a clear to go. Both the driver and your ‘tour guide’ breathes out a sigh of relief. /That was close wasn’t it Boris? I didn’t expect a new guy in that point/ /Too close for comfort, we got lucky maybe it’s the tourist giving us luck/ /You believe in that ‘beginner’s luck’ Boris? I expected better from you, we’ve been doing this for a while you know/ >The driver grunts an answer and keeps to the road /What did he do to the papers?/ /Let’s see, oh he gave us an official seal and everything ha! Maybe you’re right/ >”So what happens now?” You inquire. “We keep driving for bit longer, stop at village filled with people like you and we set from there” >”And what about those papers?” You inquire again. “Is fake” Dima deadpans. >”Yeah, I get that much” you blunt “I want to know what was written on it” “Long story too long, short story: You are relative from America, come and stay here for a while; work for me” >”They bought that crap?” you ask incredulously “Is of help when you actually have a ‘company’ ” >”and that is?” “Special procurement and delivery. Very unofficial.” he stated. >It doesn’t take much long for the car to stop after the talk. “We’re here Tourist, welcome to er… Cordon”