Even with the war still going on, a lot of Brits keep coming to Ukraine, but not for fun, but with a specific goal. Volunteers, documentary filmmakers, and entrepreneurs keep coming to Kyiv and other cities to support a country fighting for its independence. For them, their very presence has become a form of support — a silent message that says: we are here with you.
British citizens are among the top 10 most popular foreign visitors to Ukraine in 2025, with 17,210 registered entries in the first half of the year — a slight increase compared to 2024. According to exclusive border crossing data analyzed by VisitKyiv.com, this trend indicates a growth in solidarity trips. After all, most of these visitors come not for leisure, but to support Ukraine and its people.
In this article, we present three stories of British people visiting Ukraine and its capital: a volunteer teacher who has made Kyiv her home, a YouTuber who documents everyday life in Ukraine, and a Co-lead of The Possible Alliance who connects British foundations with Ukrainian community initiatives.
Their stories tell of real life in wartime Kyiv, not the one we see in the headlines — a city that lives on despite everything.
From a volunteer weekend to a new life
Zoey Llewellyn is originally from the UK, but had been living in Slovakia for the last few years. It was there, in Košice, that she first saw the consequences of Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, which began in 2022, with her own eyes — hundreds of refugees from Ukraine seeking shelter in Europe.
“Children were sleeping on the floor of the station in the passageway between the doors. I had to step over the little ones to get to my train. It was awful. My friends in England couldn’t imagine it. They saw the war on TV, and I saw it in real life,” she says.
So when she lost her job a few months later, volunteering in Ukraine seemed like the natural next step. First, she went to Chernivtsi in November 2023 for 2 weeks. This city in western Ukraine had not suffered from Russian air strikes for a long time. She spent some time there and was already thinking of returning to Slovakia.
But before this, Zoey wanted to go to Kyiv. She admits that she imagined it as a map from the combat computer game Call of Duty. But she saw that despite the war, the city continued to live.
“It’s a city of great contrasts. At 6:00 p.m., people go to parties and have a great time, and a few hours later, they go to hide in the subway because Russian drones are flying everywhere. But the next morning, you just get up and go to work,” says Zoey.
When Zoey first came here at the end of 2023, she planned to stay in Kyiv only for the weekend. Instead, in June 2024, she decided to move to Ukraine permanently. Now she extended her visa for another year, remains here to this day, calls Kyiv her home, and, of course, continues to volunteer.
Zoey divides her time between teaching English in a small village near the capital and helping to prepare food packages for soldiers at a humanitarian kitchen.
Her working day in the kitchen starts early in the morning. Her task is to pack food. This is the last stage before it is sent to the military on the front line. About 70% of the volunteers there are Ukrainians and another 30% are foreign volunteers. And most of them are sweet grandmothers, she says.
“They don’t speak English very well, but they use gestures to show me what to do. That’s enough to understand them, but it’s also an opportunity to improve my Ukrainian. They also love to show me photos of their grandchildren and tell me about them,” Zoey says.
It’s a very kind community, and kindness is what surrounds Zoey everywhere in Ukraine. For many years, she struggled with a heart condition that British doctors considered to be the result of anxiety and did not take seriously.
However, in Kyiv, she was referred to a good cardiologist from Zaporizhzhia, a frontline city in southern Ukraine. He listened to her, conducted several tests, and solved the problem in two appointments.
“She was the first doctor in 10 years who actually listened to me. She was the first to actually run tests and figure out what was wrong. And I have to admit that doctors in Ukraine are the best. They’re like Dr. House from the TV series. They always find the cause,” says Zoey.
She is waiting final tests, but now it looks like Zoey has a bone marrow disorder called Essential Thrombocythemia — likely the cause of all her health problems since the teens. For years, doctors blamed her high platelets on stress or my amputation, but a Ukrainian cardiologist here finally investigated and probably saved Zoey from a stroke or heart attack before she turned 30.
But that’s not all. Zoey was born with one leg and had been using the same prosthesis since she was 15. Since then, she has lost 20 kg, so it was too big, and Zoey had to put thick, fluffy socks under it every day because she couldn’t afford a new prosthesis.
But in Kyiv, her friends introduced her to the Rehabilitation Center “Tytanovi”. There, she was given a new prosthesis free of charge. They even painted it bright purple to match her hair. “For the first time since childhood, I could run. I cried all the way home,” she says.
That’s why Zoey simply can’t leave Kyiv. Although life during wartime is not easy — air raid sirens interrupt her English lessons, and rocket fragments sometimes fall near her neighborhood — she insists that she has never felt so alive.
“You get used to the uncertainty. The chance of being hit is greater than zero but less than one. But you can’t live in fear. You close the windows, put on your headphones, and go back to sleep,” she says.
And then in the morning after a difficult night, you might see a sign in a café: “Coffee is free for everyone today.” And in the subway, people look at each other with tired eyes, but there is a common understanding between them — we survived this.
Zoey says that anyone who feels the call to come to Ukraine should just try it. Even a short trip can change your life — like hers did. She advises looking for volunteer opportunities through the website volunteerukraine.com.
“I’ve made some of the best friends of my life through these experiences, and they’ve truly changed my life,” she says. “You don’t have to stay forever, but if you don’t come, you’ll always wonder, ‘What if?’”
Showing Ukraine not through tragedies, but through human stories
British YouTuber Kieren came to Ukraine for the first time, not for work or curiosity, but for love. His wife Vlada is Ukrainian, and thanks to her, he discovered this country, which is much more complex, creative, and vibrant than one might imagine from the headlines.
“I had never been to Ukraine before. When I first came to Lviv [an ancient city in the west of the country], I was amazed. It was so beautiful — completely unlike the gray post-Soviet image that people in Britain imagine,” he says.
However, Kyiv did not win his heart right away. His first visit was in early spring, under gray skies and amid work deadlines. So at first, he admits, he liked Lviv better.
But when Kieren returned to Kyiv six months later in the summer, his impression changed completely. The city seemed alive — full of energy, innovation, and creativity. What struck him most was not the war itself, but how life continued despite it. That is why he describes it with the word “resilience.”
“It’s like, no matter the odds, they just keep going and doing their best. Even in the middle of a war, people here manage to put their heart into everything they do and still enjoy life. From what I’ve seen, they still celebrate life — they meet friends, go out, have fun, and work hard,” he says.
Even everyday details impressed him. The average quality of coffee, food, and service in Kyiv is higher than in most British cities, he says.
However, one of Kieren’s strongest impressions concerns the Ukrainians themselves. In Britain, there is a stereotype that Eastern Europeans are cold. But in his opinion, they simply do not show friendliness in the same way that British people do. They don’t interfere in your life, but if you share something, they really listen, he explains. Kieren realized this while filming Ukraine for his YouTube channel.
His videos focus on small towns, farmers, and middle-class life in Kyiv — what he calls “the real pulse of the country.” While many Western creators have come to Ukraine in search of dramatic content about the “war zone,” Kieren chose a different path.
“I wanted to show Ukraine not through tragedy, but through people,” he says. “How they work, how they laugh, how they live on.”
Kieren admits that he was able to understand Ukraine much better thanks to his wife Vlada. “So for me, it’s not just about what I see myself — I have someone who’s basically an expert that I can ask questions to, and she’ll give me historical context,” he says.
And when he published his first videos, he was surprised by the reaction. Ukrainians watched them a lot — perhaps even more than the British. They were grateful for a genuine view of the country, while British viewers began to reflect on their own lives and what they had in Kyiv during the war that they did not have at home.
That’s why Kieren is ready to return to Kyiv again and again — because of the people who live here and, of course, the service sector, which is much better than in Britain.
“I first came here because of my wife,” says Kieren. “But I keep coming back because of what this country teaches: even when life is uncertain, you can still find meaning, community, and joy.”
In Ukraine, crisis means new opportunities
When Jonathan Robinson, Co-lead of The Possible Alliance, aimed at empowering impact entrepreneurship in Ukraine, first arrived in Kyiv, air raid sirens were sounding continuously — but laughter was also ringing out just as continuously.
“It sounds strange, but those first few days in Ukraine were probably the most uplifting of my life. Of course, there was fear — explosions nearby, phones ringing with alerts — but there was also humor, kindness, and an extraordinary sense of life,” he says.
Jonathan helped found The Possible with a group of female entrepreneurs from across Ukraine. The Possible helps channel money and support to social entrepreneurs in Ukraine and to the organisations that exist to support them.
When the full-scale Russian invasion began, he received funding from donors in the UK and Europe to support humanitarian aid to Ukraine. He wanted to do things differently and not let the funds be swallowed up by large organisations. He found ways to get funds directly to Ukrainian entrepreneurs and small organisations.
His first trip took him from Kyiv to Odesa, Ivano-Frankivsk, and Voznesensk in the south of Mykolaiv Oblast. What he saw exceeded all his expectations.
“This was just the first of five trips. It was humbling and deeply inspiring — the humour, the ingenuity, and the spirit of the people I met was awe-inspiring. It’s hard to put into words. People often talk about resilience, but I feel that word doesn’t fully capture the depth of the Ukrainian spirit,” he says.
Jonathan (in the blue shirt) in Voznesensk, southern Ukraine, during one of his trips. Photo by Jonathan.
Even the bomb shelters left an impression. They resembled comedy clubs, he jokes. People told stories, joked, and comforted each other. Humor has become a kind of civic infrastructure here.
But it is not only humor that helps Ukrainians hold on, but also solidarity. During his travels, Jonathan discovered what he calls “the night when everyone in Ukraine became a social entrepreneur” — the night when Russia invaded Ukraine.
“Bakeries started baking extra bread for the elderly. Sewing factories started sewing sleeping bags for the front lines. Bus companies changed their routes to evacuate people from dangerous areas. Everyone found a way to make themselves useful — not out of duty, but out of instinct,” he explains.
That’s why, for Jonathan, Kyiv is more than just survival, it’s a plan for the future. He believes that Ukrainians have already created a culture and infrastructure for dreams: if someone has an idea — from a tech startup to a community kitchen — there will always be a network of people ready to help make it happen.
At the same time, he was struck by Ukrainians’ openness to foreigners. According to him, people are genuinely happy to see guests not as tourists, but as a sign of solidarity. Such a presence, he adds, matters — it is a signal that the world is still looking at Ukraine and continues to support it.
“I think tourists are helping to keep the economy alive and thriving. So, I believe tourism is absolutely essential. But more importantly, these acts of companionship and solidarity are, I think, small but meaningful contributions to Ukraine. Hopefully, they offer a bit of strength — a reminder that we are with you and that we share this journey together,” he says.
For many, visiting Ukraine during wartime may seem reckless or naive. But for Zoe, Kieren, and Jonathan — and for a growing number of Britons who continue to come here — it’s quite different.
Their trips are not about sightseeing, but about solidarity. They come to teach, document, and collaborate, but in doing so, they can not only give something to Ukrainians but also take something from them.
