WEATHER wise, it was a perfect day. The setting was anything but.

It was a day more suited to a T-shirt and shorts, but that could never be adhered to in this place — even if the sun was shining. Closed shoes, long sleeves and bottoms are required as full body protection is mandatory.

This isn’t due to the need to be sun smart, but instead for protection against the deadly radiation that has contaminated this area for more than 30 years.

The Ukrainian city of Pripyat will forever remain youthful as it didn’t have the chance to

mature beyond its 16 years of existence. The purpose-built city had its potential cut drastically

short due to the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear power plant disaster in the former USSR.

The catastrophic event was said to be due to flawed Soviet design paired with human error. According to the World Nuclear Association, it remains the worst uncontrolled radioactive release into the environment in history by civilian operation. Radioactive waste was freed into the atmosphere for about 10 days after the meltdown.

More than 50,000 people, mainly workers and families working at Chernobyl, were evacuated from Pripyat the day after, never to return.

It wasn’t just the city of Pripyat that was evacuated. The “exclusion zone” is roughly the size

of Luxembourg, with more than 2600 square kilometres across Ukraine and Belarus due to remain uninhabitable for at least 24,000 years. It is estimated more than five million people still live on contaminated land across Ukraine, Belarus and Russia.

In the age of dark tourism, Chernobyl is high on the list of places to visit. In 2011, the

affected zone was officially declared a tourist attraction. Each year, more than 10,000 tourists

frequent the dangerously contaminated zone to visit Pripyat in guided tours. Some tour companies even offer overnight stays for the very daring keen to thoroughly explore the zone of alienation.

Despite the area deemed inhabitable for humans, more than 100 locals (mainly pensioners) have defied government regulations and returned to live in the exclusion zones located two hours from the capital, Kiev.

Exploring these two zones was always going to be a sombre and serious affair. One must gain permission in advance of what could be classed as one of the most depressing places on earth. After passing through two strict (yet basic) military style passport check points, it was time to take the paths and roads less travelled.

The slow journey to Pripyat started off by driving along deteriorated roads, passing by dispersed woodlands, lakes and rivers.

If suppressing existing information of the disaster, you could easily mistake the area for a pristine national park. Although, the odd abandoned building, lack of traffic and absence of people could also be comparable to the backdrop of a grim Hollywood movie plot line.

There would be multiple stops along the way but the first was hard-hitting despite how ordinary the landscaped looked.

My small tour group was led through the eerily dubbed “Death Valley” in the 30km exclusion zone. This long stretch is aligned with sign posts bearing the names of each abandoned village, with more than 200 in Ukraine alone. It is forever a stark reminder of the devastation and lasting impact of Chernobyl’s failed fourth reactor.

What makes the area spookier is the presence of letter boxes for each village — all empty.

Heading to the 10km zone was taking things to an other level — both mood and radiation included. The tour guide lowered the Geiger-counter (used as a radiation reader) to the ground to measure the affect of radiation on human tissue. Elements of radiation are unevenly deposited across the exclusion zone with the dosage of radiation depending on three factors: strength of the source, distance and duration in the affected area. Anything below .30 is deemed safe.

The radiation reading on the grounds of what would have been one of Pripyat’s most scenic cafe’s in its time was a skyrocketing 54.11.

Moving around the ghost town of Pripyat is nothing short of depressing. Although strictly

prohibited, many have entered the decaying buildings to take a glimpse of the past frozen in time regardless of knowing how structurally unsound the buildings may be.

Newspapers dating back to 1986, shoes, toy dolls, Soviet propaganda are just some of the stand out scenes when exploring the crumbling city of Pripyat.

It was at first hard to fathom why everything was destroyed in some of Pripyat’s deserted buildings. People were evacuated within 36 hours of the disaster with only a suitcase in tow and they were initially told it was a temporary move.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, many people flooded back to Pripyat to ransack abandoned homes, hotels, shops and buildings of interest despite items being subjected to harmful radiation levels.

There could not have been more of a juxtaposition with the weather and infamous Pripyat

Amusement Park on the day visited. The park was due to open on May 1, 1986 but opened the day after the explosion for a few hours to ease the distress of evacuation for its leaving residents.

The rusted, yellow capsules of the iconic ferris wheel dominated the blue sky with trees encroaching to a third of the height on one side of the wheel.

The deteriorated merry-go-round fared no better. Its remaining seats looked like part of a death trap with its bronze-red frame overrun with a tree sprouting in the middle. The sight of the bumper cars was simply disheartening.

Knowing that the park was to be the centrepiece of May Day celebrations, yet now the image of despair, was harrowing.

The theme park and what would have been Pripyat’s happiest place, is forever the poster child of the Chernobyl disaster.

Heading back to Kiev, instead of passport controls, two rounds of body scanner radiation testing points had to be visited before leaving the exclusion zones completely.

I may have checked out positive but the experience will always remain full of sorrow; for the many who died preventing further explosions, and those who have and had suffered from serious health issues and for the livelihoods lost and never to be regained.

Pripyat will remain forever young but the dark and dangerous consequences will live on as a deadly reminder — even as the sun continues to shine.

Follow Julia’s travel adventures through her website, The Roaming Flamingo, or on Instagram.