Nobody had told Tetiana Talalayko about the One o’clock Gun, so when, bang on time, the cannon let off its daily crack, the Ukrainian just froze.

“I go in to a stupor,” she explained as she sat at a picnic table in Edinburgh’s Princes Street Gardens.

It is not so very long since Talalayko and her two teenage sons fled their native Kyiv, her officer husband called up.

First she and her boys went to stay with family outside capital, but close to a strategic military airfield.

There the shells were not blanks.

Like millions over others, Talalayko decided to leave her country. She is one of hundreds so far to take advantage of the Scottish Government’s super-sponsor route in to the safety of the UK.

And for that she is very grateful. The financial law specialist says any stereotypes about the British - and the Scots - being “cold and reserved” have been smashed.

Our politicians, she adds, get what is happening in Ukraine. And our people have been warm and welcoming. “We were very pleasantly surprised,” she smiles.

But Talalayko and many other displaced Ukrainians - disproportionately made up of women with children or elderly relatives in toe - have still to end their journeys.

She is one of those still living out of suitcases, still unclear where she and her boys will end up. For more than two weeks Talalayko has been staying at an airport hotel, with no idea what the future holds.

All Ukrainians in Scotland are in limbo. But some more so than others.

That is at least partly thanks to Scottish bureaucracy, to the country’s decentralised approach to supporting the displaced.

And, of course, to the sheer scale of the challenge faced by our authorities, at local, Scottish and UK levels.

“I have no idea when or where I will be housed. I have not even unpacked my suitcases. I want stability, banal stability,” said Talalayko. “What we need is to be told what is happening. We get very little information, about education, or schools, or housing.”

“If it was not for the volunteers, we would be practically left to ourselves.”

Talalaiko is talking about Help Ukraine Scotland or HUS, a group mobilised when Vladimir Putin launched his full-scale invasion at the end of February. Its members have been trying to act as pathfinders for displaced Ukrainians lost in a maze of red tape.

Volunteers reckon there is a lot more Scottish authorities could do. They do not want a row; they want action.

HUS organiser, Cristina Iscenco, a conductor at Edinburgh City Orchestra originally from Moldova, said: “We connect temporarily displaced Ukrainian with authorities or organisations who can help them. We are mostly a link, an informational hub. However, sometimes we can feel a bit of frustration, because the system is very complicated and slow while the needs are pretty urgent.”

The group has set up a channel on the Telegram social media app that has already attracted more than a thousand Ukrainians in Scotland. They all tell very different stories, some good. But one message that comes across is how much easier it would if there was a single, national road map for those fleeing the war to follow. And perhaps one person to have grip on the issue.

“No one has oversight over the programme across Scotland. That does not exist. It’s all been done locally,” says Pavel Iosad, a Russian-born Edinburgh academic volunteering for HUS. “I think there should be someone who's accountable and carries the can for the entire thing. Because at the moment, when you have three, four or five points of contact, everything goes up in flames.”

Authorities, argued Iosad, are struggling to see Scottish complexity through Ukrainian eyes.

“There’s really no effort to engage with the service users and think how does this look like from the perspective of someone who is arriving,” he said. “They should ask themselves: ’I’m a Ukrainian, I'm at an airport, what do I do?’”.

So far nearly 5000 Ukrainians have been issued visas to enter the UK with the Scottish Government as their sponsor. Nearly another 1300 have been told they can come in to the county under the UK Government’s private sponsorship scheme.

Far from all have made it here. Scottish authorities last week said three welcome hubs - at Edinburgh and Glasgow airports and the Cairnryan ferry port - had so far triaged around 600 Ukrainians. Volunteers - like Iosad and Iscenco - help with this. They even greet newcomers in Arrivals. UK figures suggest 855 Ukrainians have arrived on visas sponsored y the Scottish Government. There is no data on how many have been permanently housed by councils.

The bureaucracy, say critics, is horrendous. The Scottish Government may be the sponsor. But it is Whitehall, not Holyrood, which is responsible for funding.

There are whispers of frustration in local government, which has been left to do most of the heavy lifting with Ukrainians. The Scottish Government’s announcement of a super-sponsor role was, said one insider, “more of a press release than a policy”.

This was an emergency, officials stress, sometimes it takes time to put processes in place. Councils do have people who know how to find homes for refugees. They have done it before. But sources acknowledge there has been a lack of clarity over funding - and that Cosla advice to local authorities on the issue only arrived on Tuesday.

Money has been a practical problem. Talks between Scottish and UK officials continue.

Newly arrived Ukrainians are entitled to a UK resettlement grant of £200. Some have burned through their savings getting here and need some cash in their pockets urgently. The money is supposed to be dished out by councils.

Glasgow MSP John Mason last week said some arriving Ukrainians had struggled to get the grant. Neil Gray, the Scottish minister responsible for Ukrainian refugees, told him local authorities were making up-front emergency payments. This, according to Ukrainians, can be just £50.

Those in hotels are getting fed. But without a permanent address, they are struggling to access other services, everything from dentists and doctors to schools and benefits. Even those who have been moved on to accommodation by councils are on their own when it comes to looking for jobs or opening a bank account.

There are helplines. But in English.

HUS has asked Edinburgh council if it can take over its hotline. “The line is in English, it doesn't help many people because not everyone speaks English,” said Iscenco. “We have been begging,” interjected Iosad, adding that there should be a national service, not just a local one.

HUS has produced a guide in Ukrainian for new arrivals. The Scottish Government has a few basic PDFs in Russian and Ukrainian. But communication problems are now all down to language differences. Some Ukrainians - many of whom have at least some English - are just not getting told what is happening.

“What really bums you out is the fact that you don't know when you're leaving, it could be tomorrow, it could be in three weeks time,” explains Iosad on behalf of those stuck in hotels. “And no one even tells you when you will know.”

Mariia Derun knows this more than most. From Kyiv, she, her daughter, teenage younger brother and mum have ended up in a chain hotel in East Kilbride.

“We were not even told we were being moved here,” she said over the phone, describing how without notice her family was put on a bus from Edinburgh to Lanarkshire.

“We are just not kept informed at all. We understand that there was no space in Edinburgh and that sometimes things do not work out and we had to go to another town.”

“But they” - she means the authorities - “don’t think they need to warn us about anything.”

Derun still does not know where she will end up. She feels isolated in East Kilbride - though there are other Ukrainians at her hotel.

“It would be so much easier if we knew what was happening. We just keep getting told to wait - and relax,” she said. “I have spoken to other Ukrainians. We can’t just sit here with this feeling of uncertainty, it’s terrible.”

Ukrainians are networking and organising and helping each other. Tips are being shared. Taralaiko at her Edinburgh table exchanges advice with another displaced Kiev mother, Kateryna Nikolaieva.

“I have spent a week just trying to work out what documents I need to open a bank account,” Nikolaieva said. “Even Scottish people don’t understand the regulations clearly.”

Ukraine is very digitised. That means, say newcomers, that British and Scottish form-filling can feel overwhelming. “Everything here is very conservative,” said Talalayko. “We noticed that everything has to be done by the book, a little bit off to the right or the left and it won’t work. People want to help but they do not know how.”

Displaced Ukrainians worry their children will miss out on school or college. But here too there are problems.

“We are being treated the same as Scottish residents,” explained Talalayko. “But we don’t have the same documents.”

That might sound like an obvious point. But in practical terms it means that Ukrainians have the same rights to free tuition at university as other Scottish residents but they do not have easily recognisable school qualifications to win a place.

“I am sure they system works very well for people inside the country but for us, it is just not flexible,” said Nikolaiyeva. "Everybody should have a clear guide. So if somebody turns up there are all the answers to their questions.

“The people in the Welcome Hub are class and they get you to your hotel. But if you ask them a question about Universal Credit…”

A spokesperson for the the Scottish Government said it was doing "all it can to work within the current UK Government sponsor scheme to ensure we are able to provide a place of safety and sanctuary to displaced Ukrainians".

They added: “We are working in close partnership with local government and third sector to deliver a Warm Scottish Welcome so that from the point a visa is granted, to arriving in Scotland at our Welcome Hubs and onward integration in the community, all agencies are providing co-ordinated support for services, from accommodation to trauma support and translation.

“We are continually working with our national and local partners, including local government and third sector, to improve and streamline our approach.”

HUS thinks there is so much more authorities can do to embrace arriving Ukrainians. They might start by warning that in Edinburgh somebody fires a cannon at lunchtime, suggests Iscenco.

“People who are fleeing war can have PTSD and every time they hear your gun, it triggers a reaction.”