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...

Krakow by Night

"Raleigh, do you like football?"

"I guess more than most Americans.  I was fortunate to be in Slovakia when they entered the World Cup for the first time in their history, and unfortunately it was because of you.  That own-goal was not good."

"Yes, we are bad.  Poland and Ukraine is only in Euro 2012 Championship because they are hosting."

 We spent almost a hour traveling by bus to the outskirts of Lviv to see the construction of the Arena Lviv.  Ukraine and Poland will play hosts to the UEFA Euro 2012 Championship and Lviv saw it fit to construct a new stadium for this epic soccer event.  The Euro 2012 will happen between June 8th and July 1st of this year. 

Soccer??  I realize most Americans have quit reading this so they can go watch a College Bowl game or find out which NFL teams have gained a playoff berth.  If you are one of those few Americans who follow soccer, or pretty much anyone not from the USA, keep reading...

Construction on the Arena Stadium began in November 2008 and continued despite much debate on whether the Ukraine even had the finances and infrastructure to host the Euro 2012.  The large stadium Adam, Rado, Matuesz and I saw being constructed before us would eventually have a capacity of 34,915 spectators.  At it's completion on October 2011 the construction costs totaled 211 Million Euro.  As impressive as these numbers are, it is actually the smallest of the eight stadiums that are hosting games.

Certainly my Polish comrades were quite happy to see this building that was contributing to the Euro 2012's - and Poland's - fame.  What I saw in August 2011 looked a long way off from the ambitious project that would include city tram connections, bus connections and an airport link and was meant to host one of the largest athletic events in Europe.  From the highway bus stop we had had to walk across a least a mile of open grassy farmland.  I assumed it would be plowed to make way for a connecting road to the stadium.

The construction workers seemed bemused that we were milling about the site.  They allowed us a little closer to the stadium and even obliged us a few touristy photos.  Rado and I considered jumping on a steamroller and seeing if we could ride it into the city.  We probably wouldn't get very far, but it would make getting across the farmland much easier.  We found the dirt road back to the highway and the bus stop.  There was a shopping center by the stop, so we went inside for a drink.  Coffee, beer or water...it was all the same.  It was a long way back to central Lviv.

 We got on the bus.  Adam fell asleep almost instantly.  Rado and I began talking of the amazing beauty of Ukraine girls again.  In particular we talked of one who we saw on the bus behind us.  She was brunette and could have won that year's award for "Highest Cheekbones."  I knew we were drawing attention to ourselves by speaking English quite loud.  Did anyone understand? 

Someone had been listening.  At the next stop, our beautiful Ukraine girl turned to us right before she got off the bus:

 "You know that some of us can understand you when you speak.  Its not polite."

I refuse to be fazed.

"Sorry.  We couldn't help talking about how beautiful you are.  I wish you would stay on the bus."

What passes for cheesy in the USA seems to work well elsewhere.  She smiled and laughed a little at my audacity.   I waved goodbye as the bus left her at her stop.  By that that time we had entered central Lviv.  The city became familiar again and the Polacks and I pointed out some of the buildings and places we had seen when we had left earlier that afternoon.  We were planning for the night and Lviv was ours again.  We started guessing how far we were from Retro Hostel.

As if to answer our question, the bus broke down.  Everyone off.

Orava is Slovakia: Rozmarin Country Fest in Terchova

In Orava I've done grand, soaring castle tours and quiet village life, so now its time for the thing I do best, party!  I spent my final Orava night watching live music at 'Amfiteater na Borami' in the village of Terchova.  This village is home to Slovak folk legend, Juraj Janosik, and the amphitheater itself hosts many culture events such as, "Janosik Days," and the cooking fest "Bryndzova Halusky Terchova."  On this weekend, I experienced a bunch of Czech & Slovak rednecks playing their versions of American country music at "Country Fest Rozmarin!"

 This is Deda Mladek Illegal Band, who I saw at the festival on Saturday night. The song is, "Jozin z Bazin" which translates to something like,"Joe From The Swamp."  While they are technically not country music, they still do a fine, funny job of playing old American ragtime and swing.  The singer is clearly crazy and doesn't give a damn about being a complete fool onstage.

I don't have to understand lyrics to enjoy live music.  The bands were good, the vibe was chill and Terchova is in the middle of the Mala Fatra mountains so the surrounding countryside is beautiful.  To top it off, instead of paying 10 Euro for the entry fee, I got in free thanks to a friend who works at the event.  Typically I start out with alcohol, but they had cold Kofola on tap, and you can only find it in the former Czechoslovakian countries.  I'll take it over Coca-Cola any day. 
                                                                                             

 

Kofola only lasts so long though, and I knew I needed something stronger when I heard the singer calling for everyone to drink Hruskovica and Borovicka!  The best Slovak spirits you can get are homemade, but here I have to settle for Spis, still one of the best commercially available.  The Spis Truck (which I will own someday) was parked outside the amphitheater, and it was full of sexy Slovak Spis girls handing out shots and tattoos!!

Strong, yet still smooth and sweet.  The shot...not the girl.  

With hruska burning in my belly and the sun setting I was ready to see the last headline band.  I was expecting more American music, but instead I got Cechomor.  Just calling them traditional Czech/Slovak music is too simple an explanation.  Here they sing, "Mistecko,"  I don't have to understand the lyrics, but I know I got chills.

  Dobru Noc.

Orava is Slovakia: Dolny Kubin Village Life

We've just seen the imposing, soaring beauty of Orava Castle in Slovakia.  Now its time to focus on something much simpler, but equally beautiful in Orava.  My Slovak friend invited me to his family cottage farm outside Dolny Kubin for a day.  I wish it could have been a lifetime.  I'm too cynical and sarcastic to use words such as charming, quaint, whimsical and idyllic, but these words describe the little family cottage very well.

Most tourists in Central/Eastern Europe will never experience this kind of building.  They focus on the usual giant castles, museums and central squares of Europe.  When venturing away from the tourist areas they look in disgust at the classic "Communist" blocks, or panelka, that are quite typical in countries affiliated with the former Soviet Union.

Charming in their own way; I feel like I'm visiting Pee-Wee's Playhouse.  The irony of these "Eastern" European buildings is that their design originates from a "Western" architect from England.  I guess Stalin was just very impressed with the economical advantage of these buildings and it quickly propagated throughout the region.  If you do go to smaller villages you will see the old, rustic small cottages from the pre-Communist days.

The small cottage I found myself at is self-sustaining.  It sits on a long, thin plot of land where my friend's family grows their own fruits and vegetables.  A short walk to the backyard treats you to a variety of berries, legumes, greens and fruit trees.  On that particular day I snacked on fresh gooseberries I had plucked from a bush out back.

All of this fresh food makes for great meals.  My friend's family treated me to some homemade Slovak cooking.  I'd never thought of dill as a good way to flavor food, but it worked very well as a sauce with meatloaf and Slovak knedl'a, a soft dumpling bread that's perfect for soaking up sauce.  In addition to this I stuffed myself with korbaciky syr, a salty string cheese that's everywhere in Orava.

 It's excellent comfort food when paired with a Pilsner beer and shot of Slivovica.  If you try it in the capital of Bratislava it just won't compare.  Unfortunately most tourist don't even give Bratislava a chance, much less the rest of Slovakia.  Come out to the countryside for some simple living and discover why I like this little country.

Orava Is Slovakia: Oravsky Hrad

I work in a hostel in Costa Rica; one of the most tourist-friendly countries in the world.  When I travel I need a place without tourists...particularly Americans.  Slovakia is that place.  Many people I know think it's Czechoslovakia, as if we're still in the Cold War.  Thanks to my generous Slovak friends, I have found a lot more in this country than its small size would suggest.  This summer I discovered the heart of Slovakia: Orava.

This is the view from high atop the Citadel of Orava Castle near Dolny Kubin, Slovakia.  This is the highest as well as the oldest part of the castle.  The oldest record of the castle construction dates back to 1267, but the location had been occupied for hundreds of years before.  It would be quite difficult for any invader to scale this limey mountain.

The interior has been converted into a museum covering the history of the castle and the surrounding Orava region.  The large dining room, the armory and the views of the surrounding countryside are particularly impressive.  I found the design of the dining room chairs interesting for a special reason: alcoholic consumption.

It's a man's chair

The males would sit at the table and discuss war, politics and business over many glasses of beer and domaca slivovica. Meanwhile the females would quietly sit against the wall and get bored.  The ladies' chairs have no arms, which gave them more reason to leave early and go to sleep.  The mens' chairs have arms, which enabled them to drink all night and comfortably pass out in their chairs without falling over.

Besides the life of castle nobility, the museum also highlights the rural culture and nature of the Orava region.  Here's the traditional 'kroje' that many Slovak sheepherders and farmers wore.  Although it looks quite dated, people were still wearing these up through the 20th century.  I would take this fancy suit over the American cowboy hat and boots anyday.

This is just a short part of what I saw on the 2 hour tour.  Being the only American there also gave it a personal quality.  Although I don't expect hundreds of American tourists to flood Slovakia for one castle, I do hope some of you will hop a ZSR Train to Orava and see what I have seen.

Welcome to Slovakia.