October 1, 2012
Riding backwards into Slovakia: Gyor - Eckartsau (Austria)
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THERE'S A POINT where the EV6 leaves Hungary and spends an hour in Slovakia before entering Austria. Five years ago, the crossing into Hungary, as it had been then, had been closed to everyone except Slovakians and Hungarians. Just as that exit had been into Hungary from Serbia. But in this case there'd been an exception for cyclists regardless of nationality.
I had that in mind as I got closer to Slovakia. I'd had one costly experience and I'd had to cross a border by scrambling through a hole in a fence and then riding on a motorway. What if things had changed at this crossing? What then?
The Eurovelo 6 sign pointed off in some odd direction, so I ignored it. There were only two crossing points here, one on the new motorway over the fields and this older one to which the other signs pointed. And so I rode on one of those ominous roads that precede all borders and, following arrows on the road, into an a wilderness of cracked roadway, broken glass and abandoned buildings. A faded and cracked barrier pole stood permanently upright.
I expected someone to shout, to remonstrate, open fire. But nobody did and I carried on and found myself already in Slovakia, on the other side of the control.
I turned round the other side of the building, ready to explain how I was crossing the border from the wrong direction... but nobody was there. That side was as derelict as the other.
This border which had occupied my mind for an hour had been abandoned. There was nothing there. Nothing but this sign of times gone by and a blue and white sign explaining Slovakia's speed limits. It was an odd experience.
I met two Canadians at the next junction. They were a happy pair, although confused where they were and where they had been.
I gave them my map of Hungary and about enough spare cash to put a down payment on a postage stamp. In return they gave me the pages of their Danube guide book as far as Vienna and offered me a handful of coins.
"They're Czech," the woman said, "but everyone takes euros there."
I looked at the coins. There were a couple of 20c pieces and a 50 and a couple of coppers. Not a lot but a kind thought. But not Czech.
"Euros," I said. "They use euros in Slovakia. That's why people took them everywhere."
"I thought they were Czechoslovakian," the woman said. I didn't like to point out that Czechoslovakia hasn't existed for years.
Tonight I have camped in Austria, down a steep stony path beside the Danube.
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