Two days before Oleksandr locked the door to his apartment for what may be the last time, he suffered a heart attack.
The 61-year-old taxi driver and his wife, Lidiia, had just made the devastating decision to leave their lives and home in the Ukrainian port city of Odesa, and make their way by train, ferry, bus, plane and finally car to safety.
Lidiia's daughter Olena had moved to the other side of the world 10 years earlier, marrying a police officer from Australia's Northern Territory.
Today Olena sits at their kitchen table on the outskirts of Darwin, her husband Ben and daughter Eva by her side, translating for her mother and stepfather.
The leftovers of a welcome hamper delivered by a neighbour sit on the table, complete with Ukrainian flag.
The war recently passed the 100-day mark but the shock has not worn off.
"Air attacks were going on 24 hours, day and night," Lidiia recalls.
"From the moment the war started, from when Ukraine was invaded, we started to talk about ways to escape."
The couple are among the small but now fast-growing number of Ukrainians granted three years of protection in Australia at the end of a long and heartbreaking journey.
More than 8,000 visas granted since February
On the day of their escape, Lidiia and Oleksandr made it to Odesa's central train station only just in time for the first government-organised evacuation train to Romania.
Having had heart surgery the day before, Oleksandr was advised he was not allowed to drive but that he could take a train and fly to Australia, a journey that would end up taking six days.
Olena and Ben were coordinating the evacuation from Darwin ("on Skype every 15 minutes") and, at the last minute, ditched a plan to pay a driver for a ride to Romania, worried the older couple would end up "in a village with no internet, no money, stuck."
Her parents had "literally only hours notice" to get to Odesa central station and onto the train, Olena said.
"They arrived with a bag of winter clothes each — they have no access to any money they have in Ukrainian accounts, which is no doubt gone," she said.
More than 8,000 mostly Australian temporary visas have been granted to Ukrainians since the start of February, according to the Department of Home Affairs.
Of those, just over 2,900 have now been given initial protection visas lasting six months.
Only 15 of those had been converted into three-year Temporary Humanitarian Concern visas at the start of last month.
The number now stands at over 450.
The longer visa allows Oleksandr and Lidiia to access Medicare, which helped them each get an eye test and new pair of glasses.
Those are "little things, that perhaps we take for granted", Olena said, but a relief for her exhausted parents.
Co-chair of the Australian Federation of Ukrainian Organisations, Stefan Romaniw, said he was hopeful for more support for those who could not afford the medical check required for the visas.
"We have people who have families with two or three children … which is $1,600 [for the checks], which they don't have," he said.
"At the moment some people have been able to get tests done. That doesn't mean they didn't have to borrow the money."
He said the organisation had spoken to healthcare companies and requested a meeting with federal Immigration Minister Andrew Giles to address these issues.
He said while the pace of visa processing was promising, Ukrainians looking to find work were facing challenges — such as transferring their driver's licence.
"People have been offered jobs as drivers," he said.
"EU licences are transferable, but Ukrainian driver's licences are not.
"So we are now talking to the Ministry of Transport, and saying, 'how do we get around this?'"
"Every day brings a new challenge, and we are trying to deal with those challenges."
Hopes of new life in Australia, chance to watch grandchildren grow
Olena said the Darwin community, including local Ukrainians and Russians, had rallied around new arrivals from the region.
Her parents were staying in a nearby granny flat offered up by friends.
Lidiia is worried for her other daughter, Ganna, who for now remains in Ukraine with her children and husband. Olena's partner, Ben, has given a pair of bunk beds a fresh coat of pink paint in case the family decides to flee.
"At my age, I'm not physically capable to rebuild a country. I would rather stay with my family and watch my granddaughters grow," she said.
“I'm very lucky that I've got family in Australia. Otherwise, I would have had no idea where to run.”
Hugging her mum, Olena says: “It's heartbreaking to observe what's happening to my home city.”
“Our biggest desire is for this war to stop."
