I wish I had this one on video. Or even photos. Missed opportunity.
I took a marshrutka (minibus) from Lviv to the border, about 2 hours away. It cost 15 hry, ~$3.
I had read that this border was difficult to cross because smuggling alcohol and cigarettes is a big business. Poland is in the EU and Ukraine isn’t. Ukrainian prices are much lower than in Poland. The lines would be long.
I walked up to the border on the Ukraine side. There were two lines on either side of a fence. One with a big herd of people, the other with about five people. I went with the small line. As I got there, a border guard opened up the door. We were let into a small room with a few people waiting to see one of the two border guards at the window. Then the door was opened for the herd. People kept coming and coming. It was flooded and me and my pack got squeezed between people. My arms were jammed at my sides. I was riding up against someone’s back. Body pressed against body. As soon as someone left the window after being processed, this sea of people would undulate forward. I got twisted. At one point, I got lifted up a little and jammed against the wall where the line came to a head and bottlenecked. As the next person left, I gave a push to gain some ground, and I did. I looked around and laughed. I couldn’t help it. All these older people. Many of them women. All of us pushing. Absolutely no order. It was good-spirited. No one was angry and pushing. This was queuing in Ukraine. Standard. I loved the contrast between this and US standards. Orderly queues with an “expeditor” telling you to make sure you have your passport ready to show the border official. It was so primitive here.
I got up to the window and gave the woman my passport. She looked at it suspiciously and held up the photo page to the light, inspecting the holograms. She asked for my exit papers. Shit. I looked for them, but couldn’t find them. I had lost them, and I expected big problems. Some sort of fine. Then she looked at the photo and then at me. She didn’t believe it. I took off my glasses. Look, here I am. It’s really me. Then she stamped my passport and I left. That was lucky.
In the area between Ukraine and Poland’s borders, there was a fenced in walkway. I passed lots of people just hanging out, waiting for something. Then I passed a family that was sneaking through a gap in the fence. I kept walking. This didn’t seem to bother anyone else.
The Polish side was much easier. I got stamped, and then the guy who was going to check my bag found out I spoke English and just let me go. I had a bunch of vodka hidden in there, and I’m glad I didn’t have to unpack.
I took at 20 minute minibus to Przemysl for 2 zloty, ~$1, bought my train ticket to Warsaw, and then killed time until it left. I walked around the town with my huge pack on, and ate a poor man’s dinner: cheese in bread with water and a yogurt drink. And maybe some bananas. And a Lion bar.
Then I caught the train. My second consecutive night on a train. I sat in the cabin with a really nice Polish guy from Krakow. He had really positive energy and was impressed that I was American. I liked him.
I had to make a connection in Lancut and kill an hour there. It was a misty night, and the lamps gave it a mysterious look. I took some photos.
I slept well on the train to Warsaw although the heat was on full blast. I arrived sweaty with some moisture in the pits of the clothes I was wearing for about two-weeks straight.
