Yet to understand how ordinary life continues alongside the war, one only needs to visit Lviv – the cultural capital of western Ukraine, long associated with Ukrainian identity and resilience.

Like the heart of Edinburgh, Lviv’s historic centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Wander through Rynok Square, once a bustling medieval marketplace, and you’ll find yourself weaving between tourists, admiring ornate façades and winding lanes. Much like the Royal Mile, the city seems made for postcards, with every corner revealing another Renaissance townhouse or Baroque church.

Then there are the cobbles. Like Edinburgh’s, Lviv’s quickly put your commitment to fashion to the test. Barely fifteen minutes into my walk, I had swapped my high-heeled sandals for trainers and continued exploring the city’s picturesque streets.

Ukraine’s Tartan Day

The city’s layered history is visible not only in its architecture but also in the everyday routines and celebrations of its residents. By chance, I arrived in Lviv on Vyshyvanka Day, a nationwide celebration of Ukraine’s traditional embroidered shirt. It reminded me of Scotland’s Tartan Day. Just as tartan reflects aspects of rich Scottish heritage, the patterns on a vyshyvanka – traditional embroidered shirt - serves as an ID card. The unique combination of colours and embroidered symbols can tell a lot about the region your family comes from.

After decades when expressions of Ukrainian identity were discouraged during the Soviet era, wearing a vyshyvanka today is more than a celebration of tradition; it symbolises the rebirth of Ukrainian culture, which has been a notable aspect of the resistance to Russian invasion.

Coffee & Trams: A familiar combination far from Leith

Another thing Edinburgh residents might find familiar in Lviv is the sound of a passing tram. The distinctive rattle that echoes along Leith Walk has its counterpart in the streets of Lviv. Lviv’s trams have been running through the city since 1880, making the network one of the oldest continuously operating in Europe. This connection meant I found myself smiling at the familiar rumble of a passing tram, as I sipped my flat white at a cafe on Rynok Square in Lviv.

The tram is not the only similarity I found between Edinburgh and Lviv; another is the coffee culture. In Lviv, the ritual of enjoying coffee and local cheesecake is so sacred that not even air-raid alerts can disrupt it. However, on closer inspection, coffee has become more than a daily ritual during the war. As Oleksanda, a barista at Svit Kavy (The World of Coffee), a local coffee roastery and cafe, explained, coffee shops often provide a sense of stability, of normality. During repeated attacks on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure, many cafes remained open using generators, offering residents electricity, warmth and a place to gather. As Oleksanda joked, Ukrainian baristas are not only highly skilled at serving quality coffee; they have also become experts in starting and refuelling generators.

Later, I wandered into a small independent café called Tam De Kava - whose name translates as Where Coffee Is. The aroma of freshly ground coffee and the sound of Ukrainian folk music welcomed me, while a stylish young barista Svitlana kindly agreed to tell me about Ukraine’s coffee industry. I soon learned that the owners of the independent café had relocated to Lviv from Kherson, a city in southern Ukraine, shortly before the full-scale Russian invasion. My own hometown lies only a few hours from Kherson, so hearing their story made the café feel unexpectedly familiar, like a small piece of home.

The excellent coffee was simply an added bonus.

Back to reality

At first glance, Lviv seems remarkably ordinary with its busy cafés and crowded streets. Yet reminders of the war are never far away. Historic monuments stand behind protective metal frames designed to shield them from missile strikes. Every morning at 9 a.m., traffic slows and people pause for a minute of silence to honour fallen soldiers. Moments later, the trams continue, coffee is poured and conversations resume. Perhaps that is what struck me most. Lviv is not a city frozen by war, while it can not afford to shelter from it either. Like Edinburgh, Lviv is a place where history shapes daily life, where people enjoy good coffee and lively streets.

There, history is on every corner, coffee is in every cup, and resilience is simply part of the rhythm of everyday life.

Liza Yeroshkina