Crossing the bar

Now for the next instalment of the enthralling saga of my attempts to cross the Slovak/Ukrainain border on foot (see this blog, March 22nd). Yes, I did say attempts, as I have tried again, in May, since I last reported to this blog. On this occassion I first took a look at the border at Cerny nad Tisou but this apparently can only be accessed via rail, and most of the time they seem to cancel the trains (which even when they are running go at unearthly hours such as 05.32 or 23.17). So back to the Uzhorod crossing where, once again blocked by the EU side as a pedestrian, I hitched a lift and crossed as a passenger of a very friendly Ukrainian who not only also gave me a brief guided tour of the town's historic sights, but refused to accept any payment. Many thanks, Ihor!

Today however I received astounding news. My excellent Euro MP (just reelected with a huge vote) Charles Tannock, took up my cause at the European Parliament and received the following response:

According to the information notified by Slovakia, there is no limitation on the use of the border crossing point at Vyšné Nemecké-Užhorod.

As far as local border traffic is concerned, Slovakia and the Ukraine have concluded a bilateral agreement on local border traffic in order to ease trade, social and cultural interchange and regional cooperation. The agreement is applicable to persons lawfully resident in the defined Slovak and Ukrainian border areas.

The Commission will address the Slovak authorities in order to receive clarifications concerning the reported restriction of use by pedestrians of the above-mentioned border crossing point.


That'll teach them all a lesson......

Break for the border

For the past week or so I have been in my hideout in Slovakia, which I reached from Kyiv by a tiresome combination of very slow overnight train (to Uzhorod), bus , and more (slow) trains. To mitigate this gruelling sequence on my return, Mrs. S. drove me to the Slovak/Ukrainian border. Uzhorod (whose church is pictured left), and my train, were five minutes drive from the actual crossing. However, had we crossed in the car, whilst the Slovak/Ukraine process is fairly prompt, Mrs. S. would have had to wait five hours or more on the way out again, due to the studied sloth of the Ukrainian customs officers.

I thus resolved, as I had only light hand-luggage, to walk across the border, counting on finding a taxi or thumbing a lift at the other side.

It was not to be. As I approached the Slovak passport control, a lady official approached with a horrified look. No-one was allowed to cross the border on foot. Why? The lady couldn't say - it used to be possible but was no longer so; and that was all we could get out of her. Another officer suggested, off the record, that I seek a lift with a vehicle in transit. First to appear was a Czech van, full to the gills with assorted junk, and thus with no room for me. Next appeared a black Ukrainian Volga whose driver and passenger beckoned me in almost before I had stuck out my thumb. Soon were presenting ourselves before the scandalised lady official who however could scarcely deny the validity of my British passport.

The passport however aroused more interest at the Ukrainian check-point. Presumbably they don't get many Brits coming through. My Ukrainian hosts kindly waited around twidding their thumbs whilst my passport was scrutinised with fluorescent lights and magnifying glasses, and prompted a long telephone call to HQ. Then inevitably I was summoned to an inner lair for close questioning. What was I doing in in Ukraine? Why had I been in Slovakia? How come I spoke Russian? Were did I live in London? How many children did I have? Why did my passport have stamps for Georgia (the republic, not the state)? I jovially gave lengthy and tedious answers, including showing photos of my three grandchildren, till they became bored and sent me back to the car. I rewarded my driver at the station with a 100 hrivnia (£8) note, and the remainder of my journey was uneventful.

But I will write to one of my Euro MPs (the very nice Charles Tannock) to ask why I can't walk out of the EU.