scariest border crossing ever
A few days have passed; I now feel ready to recount this story. . .
So the Germany-Poland border crossing is probably the worst I have experienced. Worse than being yelled at in Bulgarian and made to get off the train at 5 in the morning. Worse than having all of my luggage scrutinized upon returning to the US from Cuba.
The German train people would not sell us tickets all the way to Wroclaw, just to the German-Polish border, which seemed strange. We were unsure what we would have to do at the border. We did know that we only had 30 minutes before the train continued on. Would we have to get off the train to buy the next round of tickets? Would we have to switch trains? Would the border guard and ticket agents walk down the train checking passports and selling tickets?
When we arrrived at the border, we noticed that everyone else was getting off the train, so we did too. Laden with luggage and at the back of the train, we were the last through customs. They border guards decided to give us extra scrutiny, sending our names over walkie-talkies, scanning our passports through some sort of device. They were smiling most of the time, so I wasn't worried about being detained, but I was worried about missing our connection.
After some confusion finding the ticket-selling window, we asked if we could pay in euro. The clerk said no and the search for a money-changer commenced. After a quick look outside of the station, I opted for the atm. We got our money and we able to buy our tickets. . . and even managed to pronounce Wroclaw (Vrots-wav) in a way that the clerk understood.
And then: the sprints: we ran across the station and a few tracks to our crowded train. We made in on with just a minute or two to spare.
My fingers are crossed that my trip to Banska Bystrica, Slovakia tomorrow will be less eventful. There is a close bus connection that I would like to make, but my host has assured me that there is a 90% chance that I won't make it & will have the joy of hanging out in random small Slovak town bus station for an hour tomorrow morning.
There are worse things. I have a good book. (It's even British.)
So the Germany-Poland border crossing is probably the worst I have experienced. Worse than being yelled at in Bulgarian and made to get off the train at 5 in the morning. Worse than having all of my luggage scrutinized upon returning to the US from Cuba.
The German train people would not sell us tickets all the way to Wroclaw, just to the German-Polish border, which seemed strange. We were unsure what we would have to do at the border. We did know that we only had 30 minutes before the train continued on. Would we have to get off the train to buy the next round of tickets? Would we have to switch trains? Would the border guard and ticket agents walk down the train checking passports and selling tickets?
When we arrrived at the border, we noticed that everyone else was getting off the train, so we did too. Laden with luggage and at the back of the train, we were the last through customs. They border guards decided to give us extra scrutiny, sending our names over walkie-talkies, scanning our passports through some sort of device. They were smiling most of the time, so I wasn't worried about being detained, but I was worried about missing our connection.
After some confusion finding the ticket-selling window, we asked if we could pay in euro. The clerk said no and the search for a money-changer commenced. After a quick look outside of the station, I opted for the atm. We got our money and we able to buy our tickets. . . and even managed to pronounce Wroclaw (Vrots-wav) in a way that the clerk understood.
And then: the sprints: we ran across the station and a few tracks to our crowded train. We made in on with just a minute or two to spare.
My fingers are crossed that my trip to Banska Bystrica, Slovakia tomorrow will be less eventful. There is a close bus connection that I would like to make, but my host has assured me that there is a 90% chance that I won't make it & will have the joy of hanging out in random small Slovak town bus station for an hour tomorrow morning.
There are worse things. I have a good book. (It's even British.)
posted by rachel @ 9:59 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home