Anecdotal Evidence – The Wrong Side of the Border in Historic Hungary (The Lost Cities #14b)

I rarely go back to where I grew up other than to visit my mother from time to time. Anytime I do go back, I feel like I am in the twilight zone of my life. Everything seems vaguely familiar and strangely different. I cannot put my finger on what exactly bothers me other than everything. I am a stranger in a place where I spent half my life. That life seems so distant that I have trouble believing it ever happened. Internal exile is an unsettling experience. It can also be an instructive one.

My visits back home are as close as I will ever get to understanding what it must have been like for millions of ethnic Hungarians who stayed in Transylvania, Banat, Vojvodina, southern Slovakia, and the Burgenland after the Austro-Hungarian Empire disintegrated, and the Treaty of Trianon took effect a year and a half later. They went from first among unequals, to last among equals. They still inhabited the lost lands and cities of Historic Hungary. They had memories of a much more pleasant past and worries about an uncertain future.

Lost & found – Hungarian celebration in northern Transylvania after reoccupation in 1940
(Credit: Fortepan)

Place Settings – All Is Not Lost
There were still millions of ethnic Hungarians who stayed put in regions which overnight became part of Czechoslovakia, Romania, the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes (Yugoslavia), and Austria. While these lands were no longer controlled by Hungary, they were still home to 3.2 million ethnic Hungarians. They hoped that eventually Hungary would take back some or all this territory. That would happen in northern Transylvania, southern Slovakia, and the Vojvodina between 1939-41. All would be lost a few years later, along with the Second World War. The consequences for ethnic Hungarians would be dreadful. Considering the tumultuous history they endured, it seems remarkable that so many ethnic Hungarians decided to stay in the lost lands. On the other hand, their identities were tied to the places they called home. Language and culture were also defining factors. Despite all the consternation surrounding them, there are millions of ethnic Hungarians that still live in the territories ceded due to the Treaty of Trianon. For them, all is not lost.

During my travels in Hungary and the lands lost due to Trianon, I have heard some interesting anecdotes regarding ethnic Hungarians living in what amounts to a near abroad. Their situation is unique. Other minority ethnic communities in Eastern Europe such as ethnic Germans were expelled following World War II. Despite facing serious discrimination in postwar Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia, and even worse in Ceausescu-era Romania, ethnic Hungarians mostly stayed put. One sub-group of Hungarian speakers, the Szekely in Eastern Transylvania, have proven among the most resilient.

While visiting one of their historic fortified churches, a high school age girl guided me through the complex. Along the way, I asked her if any Romanians lived in the village. According to her there were none. Only a single Romanian police officer was stationed there. The villagers had no love lost for the Romanian government. The police officer was not trusted. His duties amounted to providing an official presence. According to the girl, he did not have much to do because no one in the village shared anything of importance to him. The village was an insular and isolated community. I doubt that any outsider, whether they happened to be Romanian or not, would have been accepted.

Timeless setting – Szekely village in eastern Transylvania

Innocence & Experience – Szekely Land & Slovakia
While visiting one of their historic fortified churches, a high school age girl guided me through the complex. Along the way, I asked her if any Romanians lived in the village. According to her there were none. Only a single Romanian police officer was stationed there. The villagers had no love lost for the Romanian government. The police officer was not trusted. His duties amounted to providing an official presence. According to the girl, he did not have much to do because no one in the village shared anything of importance to him. The village was an insular and isolated community. I doubt that any outsider, whether they happened to be Romanian or not, would have been accepted.

I was not surprised by the Szekely girl’s attitude. She lived in a world that was bound by traditions that had changed little over the centuries. In the grand scheme of Szekely Land, Trianon was very recent. What I did find surprising was the girl’s opinion of Hungary. She had spent some time there and did not find it to her liking. She said the people were “different” and “not very nice.” The humble, rural lifeways of the Szekely’s could not have been further from Budapest. Szekely’s and the land are inseparable. Trianon could not put a stop to that. If anything, the treaty only solidified it.

I came upon another surprising attitude from a Hungarian woman who had been born in Czechoslovakia, but now lived in Simontornya, an hour and a half south of Budapest. Her family was originally from southern Slovakia. They decided to move back to Hungary after Trianon. They had the option of staying in Czechoslovakia where life for the family had been pretty good, even after Hungary lost control of the territory. Uncertainty about what might happen in the future, drove her father to move the family back to Hungary.

When I asked the woman her opinion of Slovakia, she thought it was fine and still had family in the area. After the family moved to Hungary, she recalled hearing her mother say to her father, “I told you we should not have left.” Hungary during the interwar years was not a better place to be than Czechoslovakia. Starting a new life in a country riven with economic problems and seething with resentment over Trianon could not have been easy. That woman’s family story reflected the difficulties.

Divide & conquer – Trianon Monument in Batasszek, Hungary (Credit: Netpartisan)

The Way Things Were – The Way Things Are
Trianon is still an emotional subject in Hungary. Sometimes I believe it is more on the minds of those who live inside the country, than it is for ethnic Hungarians who live outside it. Finding a voice of reason can be difficult. Another Hungarian acquaintance who lives in Budapest and has traveled throughout the lost lands had a sensibly nuanced take on Trianon. He said that the resentment and revanchism during the interwar years was understandable. Emotions were running high, and many of those who wanted Hungary to regain the territory had suffered directly from Trianon. In his opinion, the Hungarian attitude should have changed after the Second World War. The retaking of territory lost to Trianon had only proved temporary. The result was more pain and suffering for ethnic Hungarians.

The terms of Trianon were never going to be revised. Hungary’s loss in the war decided that. In his opinion, it was past time for Hungarians to move on. Complaining about the situation was not going to make it better. Millions had learned to live with it. There was no use deluding oneself, the borders of Trianon were solidified after the war. There was not anything that would change that. Hungarians could live in the past, but what good would it do them? As the author Thomas Wolfe said, “you can never go home again.” For millions of ethnic Hungarians that will always be the case.

Obstacle Course – Navigating Trianon (The Lost Cities #13)

The Treaty of Trianon brought about as many problems as it tried to solve. It was a consequence of the First World War and helped lead to the second one. Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Yugoslavia all gained territory at Hungary’s expense. This led to resentments and recriminations, some of which have survived for over a century and still rise to the surface today. Thankfully, membership in the European Union for all the successor states, except for Serbia, has guaranteed minority rights and led to peaceful resolution of disputes. There is also the factor of time. Trianon is now over a hundred years old. While time does not heal all wounds, it tends to soften them.

By the standards of the troubles that Trianon spawned, the ones it caused me while I developed my itinerary for the lost cities beyond the borders of Hungary was relatively minor. Despite my irritation, the exercise offered a lesson on how the legacy of Trianon continues to manifest itself in the present. The treaty created the obstacle course of borders that are still logistically difficult to navigate. That is nothing compared to the border problems that ensued after Trianon went into effect. Having crossed all the borders at one time or another in my travels, I still cannot help but wonder why peoples and nations that have so much in common insist on making it hard on one another. Of course, that is easy for me to say since I do not have the historical or personal experience of the inhabitants.

Set in stone – Border marker between Hungary and Romania (Credit: Kelenbp)

Historical irony – Hungary For Hungarians
Like all treaties, Trianon had good and bad sides to it. How one feels about it depends on which side they are one. Hungarians detest it. Romanians, Slovaks, and to a lesser extent Serbs view it as historical justice. Oddly enough, Hungarians did benefit from it in one respect they tend to overlook. What was left of Hungary became much more ethnically Hungarian. The aftermath of World War II made that even more so when Hungary expelled its ethnic German community. In the Hungarian administered half of the Austro-Hungarian Empire the only way Hungarians could make up half the population was by counting the Jewish inhabitants as Hungarians. With World War II wiping out Hungary’s Germans and Jews, the country became overwhelmingly Hungarian. This consequential legacy was unintended and can be traced directly back to Trianon. It has proven to be long-lasting.

Hungary was always going to be first and foremost for Hungarians. Trianon made it even more so. This was a case of “be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.” Hungarians got a homogenous state. The drawback was it happened to be much smaller than what they would have ever imagined. No Erdely (Transylvania), no Felvidek (Upper Hungary, i.e. Slovakia), no Ujvidek (Vojvodina/northern Serbia). Hungary without minorities (other than Roma) is an historical irony. Trianon was the start of a homogenization process that lasted another twenty-five years in Hungary. This is an uncomfortable and irrefutable truth. And like all historical truths, it is not black or white, it is grey. No one in Hungary will ever be celebrating Trianon. How could they? But an acknowledgement that the treaty inadvertently led Hungary to become a more cohesive state would go some way in mitigating the resentments that do not benefit anyone, most of all Hungarians. 

Come together – Romania Border Monument at the tripoint with Hungary and Ukraine (Credit: Barry 432)

Direct Descendants – Controlling The Border
The borders created by Trianon are both an inhibiting factor and opportunity for me. They make travel more time-consuming and at times, outright intimidating. Who among us wants to stare into the placid eyes of a border officer that is as close to a direct descendant of Trianon as I will ever find. Without the treaty, they would not be standing their nation’s ground. They are the ultimate arbiters of who can or cannot pass. It is that simple and incredibly complex. Where else can I visit seven cities in six countries that all have a historical link to the same neighboring country? Cities that are at most an hour away from the border by car. Near and yet so far away.

The most unnatural of borders have stood the test of time and the tempest of war. While the changes that buffeted Eastern Europe since World War One have been mind boggling, Trianon’s detested and contested borders have remained largely the same. The Second World War could only alter the new status quo for a handful of years. The borders have been permanent since then. Hungarians like to lament that they are the only country that borders itself. That depends upon one’s perspective, and their perspective is understandably Magyar centric. My perspective is that of the tourist spying an unprecedented opportunity to step between past and present. I can think of no better place to understand the First World War’s enduring legacy than crossing the borders imposed by Trianon and discovering the lost cities that lie beyond them.

Past & present – Along the Hungary-Serbia border (Credit: Andrea Schmidt)

On The Same Side – Unbreakable Connections
The idea of the lost cities is fascinating for an outsider, maddening to a Hungarian, and off putting to their current inhabitants. The consternation caused by Trianon still exists today. The shooting and shouting may have ended, but rest assured there are millions still coming to terms with the treaty’s ramifications. The ancestors of those who left the lost cities and the current inhabitants whose ancestors came to inhabit them will be forever connected by an historical event that had nothing to do with them and still has everything to do with them.

It is much easier for me as an outsider to set aside the consternation that comes with the treaty. Oddly, I have a reason to be grateful for Trianon. Without it, there would be no lost cities for me to visit or an itinerary to develop. That may sound selfish, but that makes it no less true. Trianon was the cause and consequence for planning such a trip. It connects all the lost cities together. For all their differences of language, economies and culture, the lost cities are forever bound together by a shared fate. There is no way they can escape this history. Eventually it comes for everyone on either side of the border. 

Click here for: Chaotic Conclusions – The Right Side of the Border in Historic Hungary (The Lost Cities #14a)

Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

There comes a time when I am developing a travel itinerary that fear takes hold and threatens to stop me from visiting the one place that is integral to the whole plan. In this case, that place happens to be Uzhhorod. That small city on the southwestern edge of Ukraine, a stone’s throw from Slovakia, and within a short drive of Hungary is my challenge, my obstacle, and my opportunity. The lost cities itinerary I have spent the past several days developing is now dependent upon an obscure city that kingdoms, empires, and nations have inherited, but never really knew what to do with it.

Uzhhorod is an outlier. Look no further than the fact that its location has helped it escape the worst of a horrific war. Uzhhorod is as hard to grasp as it is to access. A city that I have previously avoided because I did not have the time nor the energy to visit it, a city that has the most multiple personalities in its disorders, a city whose history is a mixed-up mumble jumble of ethnicities, languages, nationalities, and cultures that it defies logic. A city that adds another layer of complexity to my lost cities beyond the Hungarian border project. A city that has been lost to every entity that has tried to claim it since the turn of the 20^th century. A city that represents a place not only on the map, but inside of me. And now Uzhhorod has come back to baffle me.

Palatial transport – Uzhhorod Railway Station (Credit: Elke Wetzig)

Magical Thinking – Tendencies To Avoidance
Buses, I hate them. Border officials, I fear them. Transfers at train stations, I loathe them. These are the barriers that are causing me consternation as I try to find the best way to Uzhhorod. This should not bother me as much as it does. I love challenges. I am not so sure I love multiple challenges. Kosice to Uzhhorod is not an easy journey, even if there was no war going on in Ukraine. No trains travel there directly. The best routes I have found are indirect ones which require confusing acts of avoidance followed by unavoidable obstacles. My first mistake was to assume I could somehow make this journey easy on myself. Easy would mean straightforward. In the best of all worlds, I would find a train (always my preferred method of travel) from Kosice to the border. Then I could take a quick transfer by taxi into Uzhhorod. I discovered that is impossible.

That did not keep me from descending into the realm of magical thinking with a train taking me straight from Kosice to Uzhhorod. Never mind the different railway gauges, never mind border control, never mind the war going on, never mind reality, never mind that in these war-torn times almost everyone is heading in the opposite direction. My absurd railway fantasies were stillborn not long after they were first formulated. And still I kept thinking this should be so easy. Two major regional cities, Kosice and Uzhhorod, not very far apart, should somehow be connected. What I failed to take into consideration was that nothing had been easy here since the start of World War I had been through endless upheavals. The tumultuous times have occurred with such frequency that it is almost as though they have been institutionalized.

Made for waiting – Cierna nad Tisou Railway Station (Credit: Matijak)

Taking Sides – On The Brink
After being brought to the brink of depression by the lack of a straight shot between Kosice and Uzhhorod, I decided on the most sensible course of action. I would do whatever it takes to get there. The two travel options I found were not exactly appealing. The first was to get a bus from Kosice to the Slovakia-Ukraine border. That sounded rather simple, until I learned that it took four hours and ten minutes to cover less than one hundred kilometers. I did not even bother exploring that one further because all I could imagine was a rickety bus, belching out diesel fumes, while trying to dodge planet sized potholes That might sound like an exaggeration, but no more of an exaggeration than a bus traveling an average speed of 50 kilometers per hour all the way from Kosice to Uzhhorod.

The most difficult destinations to access are often the most rewarding. By that standard, Uzhhorod should be positively sensational, though at this point I am having my doubts. I will be thrilled if I can get there in the least stressful and most straightforward manner possible. I did manage to find a way of avoiding buses, but there is going to be no way of getting around border control. The journey will consist of first taking a train from Kosice to Cierna nad Tisou. I found the name of the latter more wonderful than the idea of changing trains there. From Cierna nad Tisou, I will take another train onward to Chop, which is where the official border crossing into Ukraine is located. Chop, as a name, always sounds so strange to me. I know from experience that the name is nothing to laugh at because the border officials there are very serious. I have spent many hours at rail sidings in Chop while train cars were modified for a different railway gauge. This was a small price to pay for a journey to Lviv in western Ukraine.

A beautiful past – Postcard of Ungvar (Uzhhorod) during the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Credit: Old Ungvar)

Obstacle Course – Waiting On The Border
At Chop, there will be a second train transfer for the trip onward to Uzhhorod. The only thing more difficult than this minor odyssey will be plotting my next route into Romania. Three lost cities – Kosice, Uzhhorod, and Oradea – in succession, each of which are in different countries. Most things in the lives of Eastern Europeans have gotten easier since the Iron Curtain collapsed, travel is not one of them. Neighbors in this neck of the woods are not very neighborly when it comes to crossing borders. Traveling from Slovakia to Ukraine and Ukraine to Romania still requires passing through tight border control. I wish that the situation was different, but it is not likely to change for the better until the ongoing Ukraine-Russia War is resolved. That resolution keeps getting pushed ever deeper into the future. That means longer waits for anyone hoping to visit the lost cities.

Click here for: Time Management – A Race Against The Clock To Oradea (The Lost Cities #5)

Eastern Questions – Plotting Paths To Kosice & Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #3)

Budapest, Vienna, and Prague. Those three cities are as far eastward in Europe as most foreign visitors are likely to get. An argument can be made that none of those cities are even in Eastern Europe. Vienna and Prague see themselves as part of Central Europe. Budapest is close to the midpoint of Europe. As for Eastern Europe, it starts somewhere beyond those three cities. For purposes of my journey to the lost cities of Hungary, Eastern Europe could be said to start the moment I leave Bratislava and head eastward into the heart of Slovakia. This is a land little known to westerners, but of endless fascination for those who dare to visit it. Even from an armchair halfway across the world, I feel my pulse begin to quicken as I plan a journey into a remote and fundamentally different region of Eastern Europe. Whereas Vienna, Prague, and Budapest seem to enjoy being perpetually preserved in the past. The lost cities next on my itinerary have never been able to escape it.

The old and the new – Kosice (Credit: Draco)

Internal Affairs – Getting To Kosice
I find it strange to think that Bratislava and Kosice, the two cities which dominate the western and eastern halves of Slovakia today, were officially known as Pozsony and Kassa not so long ago. Other than Transylvania, Bratislava and Kosice were the greatest losses suffered by Hungary in the post-World War I Treaty of Trianon. Pozsony had become the coronation capital for Hungarian kings after the Ottoman Turks occupied much of Hungary, Kassa was home to one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Europe that housed the tomb of Ferenc Rakoczi, who led Hungary’s war of independence in the early 18^th century. As I continue to plan my itinerary for the seven lost cities found just beyond the current border of Hungary, Bratislava and Kosice loom the largest. Because of their importance, they have ample rail connections. For example, Bratislava is just an hour and 14 minutes by train from the previous stop at Eisenstadt in eastern Austria. Best of all, I can sidestep Vienna on that short journey. I would much rather see the countryside of the Burgenland (formerly West Hungary) than pass through the busy railway stations and urban sprawl of Vienna. 

Traveling onward from Bratislava to Kosice will be more time consuming due to the distance between Slovakia’s two largest cities. The average train journey between them takes five and a half hours. This raises an interesting point. The only time I traveled to Kosice was over a decade ago on a same day round trip from Budapest. That journey took three and a half hours. This is an hour and a half faster than the journey between Bratislava and Kosice. The railway network in Hungary was created with Budapest as its main hub. Long before Kosice was connected to Bratislava, the city’s first railway connection opened in 1860 via Miskolc, in what is today northern Hungary. The line I took on my first trip to Kosice followed this same route. The difference is that it now crosses the Hungary-Slovakia border.

Fortunately, there is no longer a delay for border control between Hungary and Slovakia since both are members of the European Union and Schengen Zone. The border still exists, waiting to cross it does not. It is also interesting to note that I could take a train from Bratislava to Budapest and then Budapest to Kosice in just over six hours, not including time to switch trains. That is not much longer than it takes to travel directly from Bratislava to Kosice. The reason for this goes back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire where railway lines that ran to, through or from Budapest were given top priority. Travel from Pozsony (Bratislava) to Kassa (Kosice) prior to World War was between two provincial cities. Nevertheless, I prefer a non-stop train from Bratislava to Kosice. This will allow me to see the countryside of central Slovakia, always a delight in a country known for its splendid nature.

Point of arrival – Postcard of Kosice Railway station in the 1920’s

Isolationism – Neither Here Nor There
The next lost city on my itinerary after Kosice is an outlier that will make the journey more difficult and fascinating. Uzhhorod is not on the Eastern European travel circuit. When it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Uzhhorod was known by its Hungarian name of Ungvar.  The city was then, as it is today, a geographical oddity, located in a neither here nor there netherworld. Uzhhorod is on the southwestern edge of Ukraine. The Carpathian Mountains separate it from the rest of the country. This has made it a safe haven during the Ukraine-Russia War. Uzhhorod has little strategic military value. The city has changed hands from Austria-Hungary to Czechoslovakia to the Soviet Union to Ukraine since World War I. And yet it remains as isolated as ever.

Uzhhorod is not far from Ukraine’s borders with Slovakia and Hungary. Historically, the city has more in common with Hungary and Slovakia than it does Ukraine. That should make it easier to access, but it doesn’t. The Ukrainian border is where the European Union comes to an end. This makes crossing over it more difficult. An added issue is that Ukraine uses a different railway gauge then its western neighbors. For those who choose to ride the rails, this means getting off one train and boarding another or waiting for a couple of hours as the train’s undercarriage is switched to fit the narrower gauge rails. There is the additional complicating factor of the Ukraine-Russia War.

Object of desire – Uzhhorod (Credit: Ekaterina Polischuk)

Going Nowhere – Challenge & Opportunity
Getting to Uzhhorod from Kosice will not be easy. Nothing worth doing ever is. I have never been there before, mainly because it is on the way to nowhere. This makes Uzhhorod the quintessential lost city. In the past, I could never really make it part of a multi-stop journey. I imagined it as a one-off, the end of a line that I either bypassed or avoided. An obscure destination that I could not fit into an existing journey. That is no longer true. My goal of visiting the lost cities of Hungary means that I must visit Uzhhorod. The only problem is the best way to get there. That is the challenge. It is also an opportunity.

Click here for: Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

A Long-Lasting Affair – Passionate Excesses In Austria-Hungary (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #75b)

The plan was that there was no plan. All I had to do was put my best foot backward. Only in retrospect can I see the road I took to Austria-Hungary clearly. My mind was made up to visit it so long ago that those first feelings now seem more like a dream than reality. All it took was one article and a few photos in the Marshall Cavendish Encyclopedia of World War I when I was sixteen. From that moment forward, the Austro-Hungarian Empire was the one for me. Assassinations are supposed to be deadly, but the one I came across would turn out to be life affirming. That is quite the statement considering the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo led to the destruction of Austria-Hungary. I was young and impressionable back then. The Archduke’s assassination made me want to visit those lands that had once been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I loved the exotic names, colorful uniforms, and eccentric mustaches. In black and white photos, I could see the splendor and smell the cigarette smoke. I was starting at the end with Austria-Hungary and that was the beginning of a love affair that continues to this day.

Window into another world – In Sopron Hungary

Drawing Distinctions – Brno & Bratislava
I have been running out of time since the day I was born. Now that I have arrived at middle-age, the clock ticks faster than ever before. This has added a sense of urgency to my travels in what was once the Austro-Hungarian Empire. No one can say for sure how many trips they have left in them, but as the years have passed, I find myself grateful for each opportunity to explore some of the same places again and discover new parts of the empire for the first time. I have dedicated a portion of my adult life to pursuing this passion at all costs. The time I have spent on these travels has always been worth it. Traveling in the pursuit of Austria-Hungary is a fascinating paradox. I am pursuing the past, but the first time I visit a place, it is completely new to me. I am looking at the lasting remains of a vanished empire with virgin eyes. Everything old is new. This paradox explains how I can travel around the former empire so many times without losing interest.

Do I ever get tired of going back to the same kind of places again and again? Not when each place has a distinct identity. For example, there are more differences than similarities in Brno and Bratislava. These two cities are now in separate countries, but they used to be part of the same empire. They were separated by only 130 kilometers. I can drive between the two in less time than it takes to watch the average movie. And yet there is a world of difference in their Austro-Hungarian past. Brno was then, as it still is today, Moravia’s largest city. It was part of the Margraviate of Moravia in Austrian administered Cisleithania. Brno was inhabited by Czechs and Germans.

Bratislava, then known by its Hungarian name Pozsony, was in the Kingdom of Hungary. The city was part of Transleithania, that half of the empire administered by Hungarians. The population was mixed with Hungarians, Germans, and a smattering of Slovaks. Both Brno and Bratislava have exquisite Old Towns, but Brno’s feels much bigger. Bratislava’s is spectacularly quaint. Despite their differences, both cities used the Austro-Hungarian past as a draw for tourists. Visiting each of these cities on separate trips, I never connected the two in my mind with anything other than that they were once part of Austria-Hungary. Brno and Bratislava were then, as they are today, distinct in their own ways.

Rooftops and spires – Old Town in Brno

Speech Therapy – The Ties That Bind
Diversity of peoples, languages, and landscapes are a hallmark of Austria-Hungary. One of the thrills of traveling around the old imperial lands is that there is still an incredible amount of diversity despite the violent excesses of the World Wars. It is hard to imagine how a single political entity could bind such a complex area together, especially amid unprecedented technological change caused by an industrial revolution. This would have major consequences for the life and death of the empire. The complexity of peoples and places is the preeminent focal point for a traveler to the old empire. Trying to visit every province in the empire is not an easy undertaking.

The alpine landscapes of Austria have nothing in common with the Great Hungarian Plain’s vast emptiness. Slovenia and Slovakia may have mountains, but little else in common. The former was under the thumb of the Austrians, the latter under that of the Hungarians. Galicia and Dalmatia could not be any more different even though both were considered part of the Austrian administered half of the empire.  I never could see what these places had in common other than lots of unhappy history in Austria-Hungary.

The diversity of landscapes is matched by the languages. From a traveler’s perspective, the sheer number spoken by the natives as their preferred language is difficult to fathom. This is still noticeable. German was the empire’s lingua franca, but that should not be overstated. Every ethnic group preferred to speak in their own tongue. To be fluent in the languages of Austria-Hungary, someone would have to learn Czech, German, Hungarian, Italian, Romani, Romanian, Rusyn, Serbo-Croat, Slovak, Ukrainian, and Yiddish. That does not include all the dialects still spoken a century ago. Fortunately, money does more talking for a traveler than stumbling through a phrase book. Written numbers are mutually intelligible. 

Figures of Speech – Languages spoken in Austria-Hungary

Hearing Voices – Figures of Speech
For a native English speaker, the current situation is made easier because English is widely taught in Central and Eastern European countries today. Nevertheless, there are rural areas where English is hardly spoken. This presents a barrier for the traveler that is hard to overcome.  After all, learning one language is difficult, ten all but impossible. Linguistic and ethnic divisions make travel challenging. They also make it fascinating. The old cliché, “you are what you eat” should be changed to “you are what you speak.” Languages have never gotten me that far in the lands that were part of Austria-Hungary, but the greatest innovation of that era, railroads, has.

Click here for: Chasing Ghosts – Collecting Crownlands In Austria-Hungary (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #75c)

A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

The Polish-Czechoslovak War may have been short and quickly forgotten by all except the combatants, but that still does not make it any easier to view a photo of atrocities committed during the conflict. Twenty men are laying on their backs in the snow close to a wrought iron fence.  Many of them have stunned looks on their faces. Others look as though they have fallen asleep. Only in this case they will never wake up. The photo was taken at the village of Stonava in the aftermath of a massacre that occurred on January 26,1919, when 20 Polish soldiers were killed by Czechoslovak troops. They were victims of the burst of violence which marked the Polish-Czechoslovak War. The men look innocent, though their murderers had considered them guilty. Their only crime was to be on the wrong side in a war that need not have been fought. The same could be said for so many of the conflicts that followed in the immediate post-World War I chaos to consume Europe.  

 Poisonous legacy – Bodies of Polish soldiers killed by Czech legionaries at Stonava

Taking Advantage – First With The Most
The Polish-Czechoslovak War was short, nasty, and brutish. It was also one-sided. Much of that had to do with Czechoslovak forces adhering to a key tenet of successful military actions by getting their first with the most. The idea is simple. Get more forces to the military objective before the other side does. If this is done in a well-coordinated and expedient manner, it gives the side that arrives first with a greater number of troops an advantage that will be extremely hard for the opposition to overcome. This sums up what Czechoslovak forces did so well in the Polish-Czechoslovak War fought in January 1919. The conflict is also known as the Seven Day War. In a war fought within such a narrow span of time, speed and numbers were of the utmost importance. Czechoslovakia was able to mobilize a much greater number of forces than Poland.

While Czechoslovakia was much smaller than Poland, it selected the optimal time for combat operations. The Poles gave the Czechoslovaks a pretense for war when they decided to hold elections in Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia) for the Sejm (Poland’s Parliament). This would have established Polish sovereignty over the territory. The Czechoslovaks quickly reacted. The speed at which they sent soldiers to Teschen Silesia caught the Poles flat footed. On January 23^rd, Czechoslovak Lieutenant-Colonel Josef Snejdarek met with Polish General Franciszek Latinak. Snejdarek informed him that Polish forces must withdraw from the region. He said that the western powers had sanctioned the Czech occupation of Teschen Silesia. Latinik refused. He doubted Snejdarek’s justification for good reason. It was a lie. Two hours after the meeting, Czechoslovak forces moved forward. The Poles were in an untenable position and Teschen Silesia was only one of their many military problems. They were already engaged in a war with Ukrainian forces around the city of Lwow (Lviv) and on the cusp of an even larger war with the Soviets. The last thing Poland needed was yet another war in a frontier region. That was just what the Czechoslovaks gave them.

After the fact – Polish troops entering Teschen after armistice with Czechoslovaks in February 1919

Grave Damage – A Broken Relationship
The Poles did not have enough soldiers to adequately defend the region. This allowed Czechoslovak forces to achieve their two main objectives, taking control of the Kosice-Bohumin Railway and the Karvina coal fields. The Czechs never relinquished the initiative during the seven days of fighting. This allowed them to establish facts on the ground before they were forced to halt their military activities due to pressure from the western powers. By that time, Czechoslovakia had achieved its goal of occupying the specific parts of Teschen Silesia it coveted. Their tactical victory would later turn into a strategic one. The Czechs were able to secure at the negotiating table what they had established on the ground. They achieved these goals with minimal casualties, but the collateral damage was immense. Czech soldiers committed atrocities against both Polish soldiers and civilians, The worst of these were the twenty Polish soldiers murdered at Stonava. This incident, along with several others, did grave damage to Czechoslovakia-Poland relationship.  

Czechoslovakia’s impetuous actions were successful in the short term, but ultimately came at great cost. There was no easy way to repair the damage that had been done. The Poles had a long memory. They felt Czechoslovakia was opportunistic when Poland was at a weak point. The hard feeling lasted throughout the interwar period. Relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland were perpetually tense. The Seven Day War for Teschen Silesia was a wound that continued to fester. This would have ramifications well beyond a single week of fighting. After Hitler rose to power in 1933, Czechoslovakia and Poland needed a collective security alliance more than ever before. Neither was big enough to single handedly hold off the German military. A revitalized relationship would have made it difficult for Hitler to turn against one or the other. Tragically, Czechoslovakia and Poland had done little during the interwar period to repair relations. Hitler used this to his advantage. When the Germans secured the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia due to the Munich agreement, Poland stood idly by. There was no such thing as a united front in Eastern Europe to oppose the Third Reich.

An eye for an eye – Monument to Czechoslovak victims of Polish occupation of Teschen Silesia in 1938 (Credit: I. Ondrej Zvacek)

Full Circle – A Cynical Symmetry
When Czechoslovakia lost the Sudetenland to the Germans in 1938, Poland saw an opportunity to retake Teschen Silesia. The Czechoslovaks were too weak to confront them. Poland reoccupied the area they had lost two decades before. The Poles committed their own share of atrocities. Czechoslovakia was stripped of its territory. The controversy over Teschen Silesia had come full circle. Poland was now in the position that Czechoslovakia had been in 1919. The cynical symmetry of this back and forth served to weaken both countries. When a stronger relationship was needed, neither side was willing. The upshot was that both nations would end up succumbing to the Germans.

Could this have turned out differently if the Seven-Day War never happened? That is impossible to answer. What can be said is that the fight for Teschen Siesia provided short term gains at long term cost. For such a small war this one had an outsized effect. This was a case where an eye for an eye left everyone blind. Was the war worth it for Czechoslovakia? In 1919 the answer was yes. By 1938, the answer was a resounding no. For tactical gains, Czechoslovakia had made a tragic mistake from which they could not recover.

Opportunity Costs – Trying To Take Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #2)

It is difficult to overstate just how consumed by conflict Eastern Europe was following the end of World War I. Wars, cross-border conflicts, and armed uprisings broke out across the region. Land, ideology, natural resources, ethnic frictions, and railroads were the cause of numerous conflicts. Trying to figure out exactly when World War I ended, and peace began in the region is not clear. There were numerous important moments, rather than a single definitive one.

This was unlike the western front where the signing of an armistice at Compiegne in France ended the war on November 11, 1918. Combat on the Eastern Front supposedly ended eight months earlier when the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk was agreed between the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire) and Soviet Russia. German and Austro-Hungarian troops then occupied territory that had been part of the Russian Empire. Their occupation came to an end with the armistice at Compiegne. This led to a power vacuum that opened a pandora’s box of conflicts throughout Eastern Europe.

Dueling identities – Signs at Cesky Tesin (Czeski Cieszyn) Railway Station in Czech and Polish (Credit: Vojtech Dockal)

Unfinished Fights – Free For All
The complex nature of numerous uprisings, civil wars, and territorial struggles in postwar Eastern Europe is extremely difficult to understand. A single nation could be involved in fighting on multiple fronts. Take for instance Poland, which in 1919 was fighting the Polish-Lithuanian War, Polish-Soviet War, Polish-Ukrainian War, and skirmishes with remnants of the German Army. Every one of those opposing forces was a sworn enemy of the Poles. Yet it is another conflict in 1919 that stands out for its quixotic nature.

The Poles, Czechs, and Slovaks should have been brothers in arms. They did not have any recent history of conflict with one another. All three had been subsumed under empires that thwarted their independence. The Poles by the Germans, Russians and Austrians, the Czechs by the Austrians, and the Slovaks by the Hungarians. Despite their shared sense of nationalist aspirations, they would come into conflict with one another as Poland and Czechoslovakia battled for Teschen Silesia (Cieszyn Silesia), a small region in northwestern Slovakia that each side coveted for very different reasons.

Teschen Silesia was a point of contention in the scramble for territory after World War I ended. The region had been formerly administered by Austria-Hungary with Teschen (Polish: Cieszyn/Czech: Tesin) as its largest city. The city was host to the empire’s military headquarters which played an outsized role in Austria-Hungary’s defeat. Conrad von Hotzendorf, Chief of the General Staff of the Austro-Hungarian Military, managed the war from Teschen. The upshot was that Hotzendorf’s military blunders destroyed much of Austria-Hungary’s army. This eventually brought about the empire’s dissolution. That collapse meant Teschen was up for grabs. Both Poland and Czechoslovakia – reborn as independent nations – coveted Teschen and the territory around it. Poland thought it should have the area because of demographics. Conversely, Czechoslovakia believed it was critical to the nation’s survival. 

Divided up – Cieszyn (left), Cesky Tesin (right) and the Olza River in recent times
(Credit: Darwinek)

Strength In Numbers – Demographics & Economics
While Teschen Silesia had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire prior to World War I, it had deeper roots as the Duchy of Teschen, which had been Lands of the Bohemian Crown. This gave the Czechs a foothold based upon history, but during the postwar period, demography was just as important as history. During the 19^th century, greater numbers of Poles moved into the area. By 1919, the situation on the ground favored Poland. Ethnic Poles made up a majority of the inhabitants in three of Teschen Silesia’s four districts. Demographics were a powerful force in the reconstituted Polish state. Poland needed as many Poles as possible. In other areas of the nation such as its southeastern region, Poles were outnumbered by Ukrainians. There were also large numbers of ethnic Germans, Lithuanians, and Belarusians scattered across different areas of Poland. Placing Teschen in Poland would provide a small, but much needed boost of ethnic Poles. 

The Czechs feared the demographic issue due to the precedent it would set. If a majority Polish area in historical Czech lands were to join Poland, what would keep the majority ethnic German areas in the Sudetenland from joining Germany. Czechoslovakia was much smaller than either Poland or Germany. It could not afford for the minorities within its borders to demand self-determination. The country’s survival would be at stake. Czechoslovakia needed more territory not less.

For both Czechoslovakia and Poland, Teschen Silesia was also a question of economics. Including the region in either would leave one nation richer, and the other poorer. Silesia was home to some of the largest deposits of coal in Europe. Coal was a vital energy resource. It played much the same role that oil does today. Coal fueled industrialization, which in turn spurred economic development. If Czechoslovakia and Poland were going to survive, they needed strong economies. Neither nation’s economic prospects were optimal. The Karvina coal fields in Teschen Silesia could help mitigate that problem. This was the region’s economic crown jewel and one that neither side would give up without a fight.

Another issue was the Kosice-Bohumin railway, an important connection between the Czech lands and Slovakia. Bohumin was a crucial international transport and communication hub. The largest cargo railway station in east-central Europe was located there. If Teschen went to Poland, Bohumin would be on its fringes. Whereas for Czechoslovakia, it would offer an efficient connection to the Slovak hinterland. In sum, Czechoslovakia believed its viability as an independent nation was threatened without Teschen. That was less true for Poland, but Teschen was still a territory they coveted. A negotiated settlement between the two countries should have been possible.

Boots on the ground – Czechoslovak legionaries leaving for Slovakia for Cieszyn Silesia

Men At Arms – The March To War
The two sides came to a provisional agreement on the territory on November 5, 1918, but this was done by local authorities and favored Poland. Czechoslovakia’s government did not recognize this agreement. The Poles followed up by organizing an election that would send representatives from Teschen to the Sejm, Poland’s parliament. relations between the two sides were at the breaking point. The Czechs reacted by sending in troops. This caught the Poles off guard. They were busy fighting larger wars. One against the Ukrainians and another against the Soviets. The Poles could not afford to spare troops to defend the region. The Czechs took advantage of the situation. The stage was set for the Czechs to impose their will by military force. All that stood in the way were weaker Polish forces. What happened next would poison relations between Czechoslovakia and Poland for a generation.

Click here for: A Terrible Precedent – Taking Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #3)

Cover Story – The Wrong Connection In Bojnice (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #65)

Everything is connected. That phrase sounds like something out of a Zen guru phrase book. Sage advice used to induce a sense of belonging among those wearing loin cloths in the 21^st century. The kind of wisdom one associates with naturist communes or corporate retreats. In one sense, the phrase is absurdist speak for shysters, but in the correct context it can be deeply meaningful. Words that remind us to look around and take notice of the world. Stay alert and profound realizations become possible.

I have come to believe everything is connected in one’s life. We live within a web where every thread leads back to ones spun long ago. Our lives follow patterns that become more apparent with age and experience. A combination of curiosity and self-awareness has led me to notice certain patterns in my life that have led me to realize that I unwittingly retrace parts of my past. This comes from somewhere deep in the subconscious and is based more upon intuition than instinct. An unexplainable feeling that leads me to a specific place for one reason only to discover that I was there for another.   

     Cover story – Bojnice Castle on the Bradt Guide to Slovakia

Bojnice Castle – Fantasy Without Fiction
I am always torn before I visit a place for the first time in Eastern Europe. How much should I read and research beforehand to make my visit worthwhile? Should I just show up without any preconceived notions and be prepared for whatever experience serendipity has in store for me. Or should I plumb the depths of available literature to enhance my visit? Sometimes I read too much about a place in advance, other times I read too little. My preparedness, or lack thereof, is inconsistent. In the case of Bojince, a small city in northeastern Slovakia, I did not read much before visiting it. A specific photo communicated everything I needed to know or at least that was what I thought. It only took a cover photo on the Bradt Guide to Slovakia to seduce me. The seduction came from the elegance, grandeur, and symmetry of the castle.

The cover photo showed the upper half of Bojince Castle with three spires reaching into the sky, tile covered rooftops, powerful buttresses, and crenellations. This was everything a castle was supposed to be. The intertwining of imagination and reality, fantasy without fiction. The castle is a stunning amalgamation of Romanesque, Gothic, and Renaissance architecture. It is rightfully exalted as one of Slovakia’s finest. Slovakia is renowned for its magnificent castles and Bojnice can compete with the best of them. The moment I first saw the photo of Bojnice Castle two things came to mind. One, I am going to buy this guidebook. Two, I am going to make a dedicated trip to the castle. The more I looked at the photo, the more I felt like it was taunting me. This came from the fact that I had yet to visit Bojnice Castle. This exposed what I considered a gap in my travels to Slovakia. Bojnice was the most immaculate example of a castle missing from my collection.

          Supermodel – As seen inside Bojnice Castle

Vanity Affair – A Manic Destiny
Just one look at the cover photo of the guidebook made me realize why Bojnice Castle was so famous. It was in excellent condition with soaring towers. Bojnice was one of those works of architecture that created its own reality. It has a personality and presence all its own. I could go to every other castle in Slovakia, but if I missed Bojnice none of those other ones would matter. I built Bojnice up in mind to such an exalted status that visiting it became a foreground conclusion. The castle imposes itself on the viewer’s imagination. Bojnice seemed to be saying to me, “you should have put me first on your list of places to visit in Slovakia, rather than waiting until your sixth visit to find time for me.” I had ignored the architectural supermodel of Slovakia at my peril. I felt foolish and guilty. This was a problem I set out to rectify.

On a multi-day journey by car to historic sites in Slovakia, I specifically selected the northwestern portion of the country. It was Bojince or bust. Speeding through eastern Hungary and central Slovakia as fast as I could, I made it to Bojnice by mid-afternoon on the journey’s first day. I found the castle in the same sparkling condition as what I had first seen in that cover photo. The castle was vast and even a couple of hours could not do it justice. Still, what mattered was that I had made it there. In the ridiculous world of my own personal travel mania, I felt self-satisfied. Let no one say that I ever failed to visit Bojnice Castle. The obvious retort is that other than me, who would have known or cared.

Once the visit to Bojnice Castle was made, I headed to my accommodation for a well-deserved rest. It was still daylight and there was plenty of time to explore the town. I chose not to. At that time, I did not realize that my infatuation with Bojnice Castle had caused me to miss an experience which would have been much more personally meaningful to me. A deep connection was lurking if only I had looked a little further than a guidebook photo. One that would have kept me searching the streets of Bojnice for a ghost from my distant past.

Vanity affair – Bojnice Castle as seen from the town (Credit: Lady Rowena)

Wrongfooted – Missing Out On Mecir
While doing some post-visit reading about Bojnice, I learned that it was the hometown of Miloslav Mecir. The name may not be well-known, but Mecir will always be a legend in my mind. A man whose eccentricities I found enthralling. Mecir was one of the best men’s tennis players of the 1980’s, Strange, sly, and largely silent, Mecir displayed very little emotion, but when he stepped on the court his racquet did the talking. Some of the world’ greatest players fell beneath the spells Mecir cast upon them. He wrongfooted his way to the finals of the U.S. and Australian Opens.

No one quite knew what to make of Mecir. Before they could, he was derailed by chronic back problems. Mecir vanished, much like he had appeared, out of nowhere. I stumbled in and out of Bojnice before realizing its connection to Mecir. I made the wrong connection at its castle, one based upon instinct rather than intuition. Vanity got the better of me and I ended up worse off because of it. Mecir deserved better and so did I.

Losing Control – Opening The Hungary-Slovakia Border (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #58c)

Soft borders are heaven, hard borders are a hassle. The former, defined by the Schengen Area in places like Hungary and Slovakia can now be done in the 1ablink of an eye. The latter, such as between Hungary and Romania are an obstacle course that can only be navigated with a passport and/or other required documents such as a visa. Once you have experienced the ease of crossing borders in any of the 27 countries in Europe that belong to the Schengen Area, you never want to experience another queue at a border. Border control feels retro in many parts of Eastern Europe. A time when suspicions were intense and crossing from one country in Eastern Europe to another was the ultimate stress test. For some individuals, crossing a border could be the difference between freedom and imprisonment, life or death. By comparison, current border control in Eastern Europe where nations are part of the Schengen Area can seem like a formality.

Passing through – Abandoned Slovenske Nove Mesto – Satoraljaujhely Border Control

Crossing Over – An Internal Iron Curtain
The very definition of what constitutes a hard border in Eastern Europe has undergone transformative change. For instance, the Hungary-Romania border was one of the toughest to cross when Nicolae Ceausescu led Romania during the later part of the communist period. Due to the large ethnic Hungarian minority in Romania, any Hungarian crossing the border was viewed with suspicious intent. Any Romanian crossing the border was viewed with only a little less suspicion. Other foreign nationals were targeted for onerous procedures. The border control officers were infested with Securitate agents, Romania’s dreaded secret police. People I know who passed though the border during this time often greased the skids with gifts for the officers. This was a best-case scenario for those looking to pass through what amounted to an internal iron curtain. Those crossing it risked their lives and livelihoods if the authorities deemed them guilty of nefarious activities.

Those terrible times ended abruptly on Christmas Day 1989 when Ceausescu and his wife Elena were executed by firing squad for crimes against the Romanian people. The border gate swung open. There were still problems on the border, but nothing like what had come before. Foreigners were free to visit while coercion by border officials largely subsided. Passport control became normalized. The situation seemed to be getting even better when Romania and Bulgaria joined the European Union in 2007. They were due to join the Schengen Area after meeting requirements for such things as external border control and data protection. It was said to be just a matter of time before people and commerce would flow freely through open borders.  Sixteen years later both countries are still waiting.

Under control – Bors-Artand Border Crossing

Waiting Times – Watching The Clock
Speaking of waiting, the difference between crossing the Hungary-Romania border compared to the Hungary-Slovakia border is dramatic. This has economic consequences for both countries. For instance, it is problematic for the Romanian travel and tourism industry who have been hoping for years that ease of access would become the norm in getting even more travelers to Romania, which is one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Unfortunately, those travelers crossing into Romania can expect delays. I know this from first-hand experience when in 2017 I spent time at the Artand-Bors crossing on my way to visit Oradea (Nagyvarad), an elegant city with eye catching architecture from the later 19^th and early 20^th century.

The wait at the border was irritating. It took about half an hour to get through. That seems like nothing, but on a day trip it means spending an hour waiting to clear the border. And on that day traffic was light. Another time on a bus, it took a bit longer. When I weighed making another crossing of the Hungary-Romania border to visit Oradea, versus crossing the Hungary-Slovakia border on an alternative day trip, my decision was based on how long I would have to spend in transit at the border. It was a choice between thirty seconds or thirty minutes twice in the same day. That was why I ultimately decided to journey north from Debrecen in eastern Hungary over the border to Borsa, Slovakia to visit a historic site. After visiting Borsa, I was soon crossing back into Hungary from Slovenske Nova Mesto to Satoraljaujlhely. This was when I came upon the remnants of border facilities that had been abandoned since both countries joined the Schengen Area in 2007.

Open border & open road – Crossing the border from Slovakia into Hungary

Expedited Entry – A Welcoming Atmosphere
I have seen a lot of junk yards, but never one in the middle of a road. The old border control post between Hungary and Slovakia had that look. The buildings were derelict. No one had manned the booths in over fifteen years. No one took them down either. The posts had become a monumental reminder of just how difficult it was to cross between the two countries. Making my way past the abandoned buildings I could not help but think how the relegation of these border facilities was astonishing. The abandoned buildings are a sort of open-air museum. The details of their decline are visible in the dilapidation. They tell the story of what happened both before and after 2007 when the Schengen Area came into effect. Hungary and Slovakia were enemies on many occasions throughout the 20^th century. Even today, there are still flare ups between the two because of issues with ethnic Hungarians in Slovakia. And yet the sides have come to trust one another enough to allow what in effect is an open border.

The abandoned border crossing is symbolic of that trust. There are no impediments to crossing the border now. Traffic flows between Hungary and Slovakia without hindrance. There can be no better place to reflect on the improvement of relations between the two countries. Very few are worried about Hungarians coming into Slovakia, and vice versa. Border control is no longer needed. To understand how incredible that is, consider what it must have been like when the posts were active. Anyone trying to enter either country would first have to convince a border control agent that they would do no harm. Even then, they could be subjected to long waits and suspicious questioning. Now the only hindrance is slowing down to weave one’s way along the road past the derelict border control buildings. This is a minor miracle, one that has become so common that few notice. That is until they try to cross the Hungary-Romania border.

Clicm here for: Prolonged Agony – A Frustrating Flight Path Over Hungary (Rendezvous with An Obscure Destiny #59)

Crossover Appeal – Opening the Hungary-Slovakia Border (Rendezvous With An Obscurity Destiny #58b)

If ever there was a place to observe the incredible transformation from war to peace, dictatorial regimes to democratic freedoms that took place in Eastern Europe between the 20^th and 21^st centuries, than the Hungary-Slovakia Border is it. As borders go, this one is pure bliss. There is nothing to detain the traveler. The only notification of a crossing from one nation to the other is a sign. This is so matter of fact that it is miraculous. Here are two countries that once expelled each other’s ethnic kin, that fought a war with one another, and that historically had a disagreeable relationship. To be sure, some of that tension still exists, but less so than ever before. It is in the best interests of both countries to have open borders so people and commerce can flow freely between them and across the rest of the 25 other European countries which are part of the Schengen Area.

Welcoming – Entry sign for Hungary

Suspicious Intent – A Matter of Control
I have crossed between Hungary and Slovakia in six different places over the past ten years and never once I have been delayed by anything other than the speed limit. A sign with the flag of Europe and inside the circle of stars is written, “Magyarorszag” or “Slovenske”. This is an exceedingly warm welcome after decades of the Cold War when relations were frozen by fear and historical enmities. Those signs are as close as anyone will come to border control on what from 1920 to 2007* was a hard border with officials ready to check passports and scrutinize anyone looking to enter either country. By its very nature, border control is an intrusive process. For the most part it has to be that way. National security is at stake.

Border control is the only thing standing between prospective entrants and freedom of movement. The officials tasked with doing passport checks can only surmise the intentions of those they are about to allow in their country. Letting the law abiding in and keeping those with malevolent intentions out is the number one priority. It is very different for those just trying to get to the other side of the border. For anyone traveling abroad, border control is like death and taxes, a necessary evil. It is a barrier that must be overcome. One that induces impatience, stress, and suspicion. What goes unspoken while waiting for the coveted passport stamp, is that the traveler is just as suspicious of the border control officer as they are of them.

Closing time – Abandoned border control facilities on the Hungary-Slovakia border

Relics, Reminders & Ruins – Objects of Indifference
On the Hungary-Slovakia border I have not had to endure the stress and suspicions due to the Schengen Area, but that had not kept me from pondering the experience of passport control. For instance, I have often wondered exactly what appears on the officer’s computer screens when they scan passports. And why do they flip through the passport book looking at not just the pages with stamps, but many of the blank ones as well. Sometimes they even take their time scrutinizing these. I have come to believe that every passport official has their own personalized way of carrying out official duties. The traveler is at their mercy. It can be a helpless and maddening feeling. One which from my perspective is filled with needless stress. Perhaps that is why I love to travel in the Schengen Area. It is at least partially an act of avoidance. I believe everyone at the border wants to avoid passport control, but they dare not say it for fear of raising suspicions.

I am certain that Europeans, especially those ones from the former Eastern Bloc countries, breathed a sigh of relief when they joined the Schengen Area. It is a miracle of common sense and pragmatism, something that is in short supply when bureaucracy is involved. The novel idea that internal borders within much of Europe could be open ones is quite recent. The Schengen Area only came about in 1995 with seven countries in Central and Western Europe taking part. This was expanded in 2007 to countries in Eastern Europe who were members of the EU with two notable exceptions. This meant the onerous formalities of the border ceased to exist, but the border control facilities were not taken down. For whatever reason, they were left standing, as relics, reminders, and ruins. Since then, they have been allowed to degrade further. No one is bothering to deconstruct and dispose of them. The indifference towards these increasing eyesores is strange. It is as though Hungary, Slovakia, and all the other Eastern Europe countries which had to suffer these symbols of totalitarian control are now treating them with the same indifference that communist officials once treated them.  

On the border – Highway crossing on Romania-Hungary border

Under Control – Tense Times
Just as the Schengen Zone represents a level of unprecedented trust among the 27 countries which belong to it, the abandoned border control facilities still standing recall a time of mistrust and tension in Europe, this is especially true in the former Eastern Bloc. There is a misguided belief that just because countries such as Hungary and Czechoslovakia (which included Slovakia) were part of the Warsaw Pact, that they were comrades in arms. This is far from the truth. Slovakia was home then, as it still is today, to a large ethnic Hungarian minority located in the southern part of the country bumping right up against the border with Hungary. Historic mistrust between Slovaks and Hungarians meant the border between them could at times be just as hard as the border between countries east and west of the Iron Curtain.

There were differences in governing regimes as well. Hungary was much more open than Czechoslovakia. This made for tense relations, both in high politics and on the border. Much of the tension between Hungary and Slovakia has been mitigated by membership in the European Union and the Schengen Area. The open border is a trust building relationship that continues today. Trust, or a lack thereof, is something Bulgaria and Romania which are EU members, but not yet part of the Schengen Zone still must work through. The latter of which has a border with Hungary that includes the same controlled environment that once existed across Eastern Europe.

Click here for: Losing Control – Opening The Hungary-Slovakia Border (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #58c)