Hostel Hunting: Kerch Me if you Can

Kerch
Dusk was settling in when I passed Ukrainian customs off the ferry and I still had to take a small van taxi transfer to town. The walk from the bus station was delightfully well lit, even embedded in the concrete, but the streets were nearly deserted at only 8pm. Trying to get my bearings I seemed to have passed the hotel once already without seeing it and now came at it from another direction. The address I was looking for should have been on the darkest part of the road next to the dilapidated buildings.. I couldn't see it and instead went to main street to reevaluate. Nobody there spoke English so I went into a restaurant with an English menu and WiFi. Following a nice meal and interaction with the manager I set out with expensive fallbacks but made one more stab. This time I recognised the sign from an online picture though it didn't say hotel at all or, you know, have a light on. When I knocked a slippered man slid to the door and we negotiated for my small, comfortable room ($20 CAD) without any common language while standing on plexiglass revealing a fake archaeological find.