June Update 7/6/08 Chernivtsi, Ukraine (6,071 km) 
After a comfortable, if a little rustic, night in a campsite at a huge dam project at Solina we ran for the border arriving around midday. There was a reasonable queue of Polish cars waiting so we joined the back and switched off. The guy in front came to say hello and pointed at the lorry then at the border and said "Ukraine - Shizer!" which made us wonder why so many Polish wanted to go there including him!!
Creeping forward I decided to wander to the first check post and ask if we were in the right line as there were now three. The guard took in the fact that I was British and then I pointed to the Mog and he did a total double take which had me in stitches! He immediately got on the blower to his boss and after much discussion he waved us though his barrier and to the totally empty line beyond... result! As we crept forward and stopped at the Ukrainian barrier this tiny guard in full army fatigues peered out of the office and promptly burst into fits of giggles at the sight of us! He then disappeared for a minute or so and re-emerged with his boss who was hastily putting on his jacket and hat!
I got out and showed the boss our passports and papers but held on to them with a firm hand. Every customs and security guard appeared from around to discuss the Mog and, we assume, us too! We had decided the night before that I would drive over the border as the lorry is in my name and therefore all the paperwork would match up with me. Also, we had read that we needed international driving licences in the Ukraine but Oz doesn't have one so it seemed simpler if it was me driving. As it happened this seemed to be a good thing as the boss seemed surprised at the fact an Englishwoman was both driving (we have seen very few women drivers in Poland and since in the Ukraine) and owned the Mog too!
The chap in fatigues headed off with Oz to look over the lorry while I dealt with the boss. He was a sweetie once I'd convinced him that we didn't want a transit visa (5 days) and that he REALLY did want to do all the boring (and extensive!) paperwork that was required for letting us into the country.
Customs guy went through the Mog with a fine toothcomb and rifled (not sure that is quite the appropriate word with them all carrying hand guns but there we are!) through all the draws, fridge (perhaps he was looking for smuggled Polish immigrants in there!), shower room and under seat cupboards but totally missed the safe, wardrobe and hidden cupboard we put in housing the laptop, camera and printer! He also didn't ask to look into either of the garages but did insist on climbing onto the roof. This was most amusing as he asked Oz for a ladder and Oz scaled up the side of the lorry in two seconds flat and beckoned for him to follow!! Once the guy reached the roof (taking rather longer) Oz pointed to the ladder where it is locked onto the roof rack and said “Ladder” to reinforce the point! Once up there Oz was made to go through all the boxes and roof tent. Oz then needed to sign some papers so quickly climbed down leaving fatigues guy stranded and looking a little apprehensive ... we are 3.6 meters high after all!!
Meanwhile back at the office, Boss Man and I were getting on like a house on fire and he was particularly impressed after he asked me about an Antiguan stamp in my passport I said "my Papa goes there". After an hour they finally let us go on our way after shaking both our hands and, rather worryingly, wishing us ‘good luck’!
We trundled forward and were surprised by the plethora of petrol stations this country has... this amazement was very short lived when we realised that fuel was a little under half the price of Poland – so THAT’S why all the Polish we’d seen queuing up at the border were now at the petrol stations using ramps to jack-up one side of their car and fit in more petrol!!
Very soon we left the feverish activity at the petrol pumps for the road to Lviv. As we entered the Ukraine through one of the small border posts we were now on one of the smaller country roads. Pot holes were the size of small South American countries and everyone was in a great hurry to get past us. We trundled on passing farmers with horse and carts, women hoeing strips of land and cows wandering the verges munching the long grass.
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More on this fascinating country in the next update very soon...
Kate, Oz and the Mog.