In traveling, one accumulates bits of information that will be useless in a short amount of time. For instance, we've learned that a direct train route between Budapest, Hungary, and Krakow, Poland, doesn't exist. Although we prefer trains, we actually don't mind buses. Since a bus could get us there directly, we opted for that. So, last Saturday, we found ourselves on a day-long bus ride from Budapest to Krakow, the last of our three Eastern European destinations. Overall, we really enjoyed it. As we've discovered in the past, a bus ride can be a pretty interesting experience, which we're all about :)!
The route took us on a two-lane highway across the plains of northern Hungary, green with a new crop of some sort, steadily north through Slovakia and into the snowy Tatra Mountains that straddle the Polish border.
We passed through the center of towns, big & small, giving us an up-close look at the neighborhood.
Along much of the route, there was an air of rural poverty, with wood piles stacked next to modest houses. Numerous lumber mills seemed to be the only business opportunities. A brisk mountain stream followed the road for a while and reminded us of the road to Rangeley, Maine.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a lovely ski resort appeared. It could have been an Alpine version of Sugarloaf or Sunday River. A couple of ski lifts were visible from the road, busy with weekenders, and we noticed a horse & sleigh, as well as dog-sled races. This burst of commercialism and activity disappeared quickly, and we were in the woods again.
Drama arose unexpectedly at the Polish border when the bus pulled off the road on an empty hilltop where a handsome, stern, no-nonsense young border guard boarded the bus. We were surprised, as most European borders can be crossed freely. Our guard proceeded to walk down the aisle, methodically studying each passenger's passport, taking longer with some, as he flipped through the pages and compared the photo to the actual person. Eventually, he left the bus, taking 3-4 "suspicious" passports with him to his car, presumably to check them online. We passengers waited silently, wondering what the outcome would be, as the sun went down over the fields and woods.
I couldn't help but think of the news I've read recently regarding resistance to immigrants - everywhere, it seems, including this part of the world. Certainly, we had seen very little evidence of immigrants living in either Prague or Budapest.
Finally, our young official came back and returned the passports to their owners. No one got dragged off the bus, and we got on our way again. We were grateful for our American passports, which he had barely glanced at.
As the day petered out, the lightly falling snow picked up, causing very poor visibility, almost white-out conditions, at times. Again, we were thankful for our driver's careful skills and knowledge of the winding mountain roads.
Finally, we arrived at the Krakow bus station, only a half hour late. Finding an Uber and then our poorly marked aparthotel, in the dark and freezing cold, were our finishing challenges for the day. Our sweet little apartment was so warm and cozy that, once we found it, we couldn't budge for food.
Instead, we made do with the bits and pieces in our backpacks, while reminding ourselves that transitions are always the hardest part of travel.
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