How To Cross The Polish-Ukraine Border Without A Clue

"Just follow her.  She's going to Lviv."

"But she doesn't speak English.  And I barely speak Slovak."

"Don't worry.  She speaks Polish.  You'll be fine."

 I don't speak Polish and definitely don't speak Ukrainian.  Yet I spent 12 hours traveling from Krakow, Poland to Lviv, Ukraine with a nice Ukrainian lady whose English consists of, "Good Morning" and "Good Night."  This may sound like a fantasy to many men, but when you're lost in a strange land at 3:19 in the morning it's less than desirable.

Its 10:29pm and I'm at the Krakow Central Train Station trying to get on the direct train to Lviv.  Even though there's plenty of seats available and I have the money, they aren't allowing me on the train without a reserved ticket.  My two Polish friends, Sylwia and Samantha, are trying to help but the train staff only speaks Ukrainian.

A skinny, wide-eyed, olive-skinned lady is arguing in Ukrainian with the staff.  Fortunately she speaks Polish so my friends talk with her.  Her name is Maria, she lives near Lviv and she has the same problem.  She has done this trip and says this has never happened to her before.  After some discussion my friends recommend I follow her to Lviv.  Her first impression makes me uneasy.  Emaciated, unnaturally dark and chain-smoking, she is as skittish as a wet cat and shuffles about in flip-flops despite the chilly weather.  This shuffle is made even stranger by her dragging around three bags whose combined weight must be twice her own.  She's not the kind of person who I would immediately trust myself to when entering uncharted territory.

The train staff is giving her the cold shoulder as well, and rather than a direct train it looks like we will both have to go with the more complicated Plan B.  Sylwia found some information on a Polish travel forum, but it's not the most thorough.

Plan B
1. Train to to Pryzemysl, Poland: 140 zloty
2. Minibus to the border at Medyka: 2 zloty
3. Walk across the border to Shehyni, Ukraine: Free? Bribe?
4. Minibus to Lviv or to unspecified train station: Price?? ("Maria will know where it is.")
5. Unspecified train to Lviv: Is there a train??  ...Maybe a minibus??

The plus is Plan B is cheaper than a direct train.  The con is being "stupid-American-not-knowing-what-the-hell-is-happening," which can ultimately get a lot more expensive.  I fully expected to end up on the side of a dirt road in the Ukraine countryside watching a car of corrupt police drive away with all my 'confiscated' bags.

Pryzemysl: pronounced "Psmsymsymsysm"

After a few anticlimactic yet still tearful hours, I said goodbye to Sylwia and Samantha and got on an 3:19am morning train with Maria to Pryzemysl, a city whose name I will never ever be able to pronounce.  I struggled in Slovak to find out more about this odd lady.  I gathered that she had been working in Greece for a few months and was returning to her family.  This would explain the non-Ukrainian dark skin, flip-flops and bags covered in Alphas and Omegas.  I relaxed a little with this knowledge and drifted off to sleep for a few hours.


About 8:00am, we slumped off the train in Pryzemysl and crossed the tracks into a rocky parking lot. There were a few small shacks, a crowd of people milling about and some large vans parked in the lot.  I assumed these were minibuses, but I saw no schedules or signs to confirm this.  At this point I took Sylwia's, "Just follow her" advice to heart and gave the thin Maria a lost, lonely look while inquiring, "Minibus? Medyka?"

She held up a finger and shuffled off to find out.

Maria in blue and Minibus in white.

Moments later a man walked out of one of the small shacks and started shouting.  The crowd suddenly swarmed around one of the vans, and I rushed with them just as I saw Maria doing the same.  We went to the rear of the van to pack our bags.  It looked completely full, yet the attendee magically found more room for our luggage.  Maria yelled something at the driver, then held up 2 fingers to indicate the price.  I paid the driver.  Panic set in as he turned away without giving me change.  Maria yelled at him again and he returned with my change.  Hmm. Maybe she's on my side. 


For fifteen minutes we rode to the border as she showed me pictures of her children on her phone.  We jerked to a halt in Medyka, then rushed off the minibus to join a river of people on a stone path to the Ukrainian border.

I turned to Maria to give her the lost, lonely look again.  She was ignoring me.  She had got a Ukrainian signal on her phone and was engaged in conversation with...her children? Husband?  Once she finished her conversation, she turned to me and started saying, "Fast! Fast!" in English.  I was perplexed until she added, "No Police! No Police" to the command.  We grabbed our heavy bags and skittered as fast as we could down the winding stone path.

As we scooted along the path, I saw the truth in Maria's simple warning.  Several slower people were being stopped by border police for random inspections.  Their luggage was opened, identification checked and questions asked.  I did not want to be one of these people.  I'm sure they would have fun with a USA passport.

The actual stamp and customs process was surprisingly pleasant.  We had a small holdup on the Polish side when a girl in front of us got detained for having her paperwork out of order.  One of the policemen used that time to introduce his new wife to the entire border patrol, which caused a longer delay.  Cute.  Other than that, the lady on the Ukrainian side stamped my passport without a single inspection and said to me with a smile: "Welcome to Ukraine!"

The happiness ended soon after.  Shehyni, Ukraine looked as most border towns around the world do.  An immobile line of cars and trucks stretched down the road from the border off into the horizon.  Trash and debris covered the landscape.  Various evil vultures in the form of taxi drivers, money exchangers, smugglers, beggars and other undesirables swooped down on us once we exited the border gates.  Maria didn't have to say anything.  My experience from border towns is all the same:
 
1. Move quickly
2. Avoid eye contact
3. Keep your mouth shut as the slightest utterance of English just encourages the vultures

We quickly exchanged Polish Zlotys for Ukrainian Hryvna at a reliable (??) money exchange then ducked for cover into the nearest convenience store.  One street vulture continued to follow us into the store and the charming Maria again screamed for him to leave us alone.  He slinked off and we were free to purchase some survival snacks.  I like her.  It was time for a Ukrainian beer.

Sounds complicated?  Up to this point, everything I've done can be easily found on various travel forums; however, how I got to Lviv from the border is not the recommended method...