If you enjoy reading the Letters from Slovakia, don't forget to purchase a copy at the Slovakia Heart of Europe Store
My first visit to Slovakia was in 1998, to spend Christmas and New Year with my wife-to-be's family. Having recently purchased our first house, and so watching our pennies somewhat, we made the trek half way across Europe by coach instead of by plane. We left Dover on the morning of the 22nd December, finally arriving in Brno, Czech Republic, at midday on the 23rd December. The journey was pretty much as you would expect a 30-hour coach journey to be. Awful.
Between us we had about 7 items of hand luggage (one of which belonged to me), which we squeezed into the luggage rack above our heads, in the space reserved for our legs, and anywhere else we could find. One of the bags (the Christmas presents bag), which just couldn't fit anywhere else, took up half of my wife's seat. This basically meant that we had to endure a 30-hour journey sharing one and a half seat's worth of space and with no legroom whatsoever. Worse still, all of the videos, shown continuously throughout the night, were in Czech.
So even though I found myself in the seemingly envious position of being the only male onboard (with the exception of Vladimir and Boris, the coach drivers) cooped up with 40 stunningly attractive Czech and Slovak au pairs, all aged between 18 and 23, for over 30 hours - the journey was still pretty awful. As bad as it was, nothing in the world could have prepared us for the second leg of our journey, the 5 and a half hour trip from Brno to Ruzomberok, in Slovakia.
Whilst queuing at Brno bus station (for 2 and a half hours) I hadn't really envisaged any problems in securing a seat on the 3:00pm coach to Ruzomberok, seeing as we were third in the queue. I was wrong. When the bus arrived, on time I hasten to add, it was exactly that a single decker bus (as opposed to a coach) and was full; completely, totally and utterly full to the brim. For some unknown reason the bus driver opened the doors when he arrived at the stop, though not to let anyone off and surely not to let anyone on. I boldly pushed my way to the front and enquired of the driver when the next bus to Ruzomberok would be. What happened next was quite remarkable. On hearing of our plight of having to get to Slovakia before Christmas the driver got up from his seat and began to load our two suitcases and 8 items of hand luggage (my wife had bought some more presents in Brno) into the front of the bus. We ourselves got on, stood between our luggage, and before we knew it were on our way to Slovakia!
At the time, as we left Brno coach station, I remember feeling guilty and also rather sorry for the two people we had queue jumped (I am British after all) to get on this the last bus to Ruzomberok before Christmas. That guilt lasted all of ten minutes. In the UK, or the States of course, it just wouldn't have happened. Safety laws just wouldn't have allowed it. There we were, on a bus with as many people standing as sitting, and that wasn't accounting for our luggage.
It wasn't long in to the journey, perhaps 20 minutes, when my legs began to ache. Standing fixed to the spot, boxed in and unable even to adjust my stance, I soon realised that I could be stuck like this for over 5 hours - there was just no way I'd be able to last that long! Two suitcases, two food bags and a Christmas present holdall further up the bus stood my wife, seemingly non-plussed by our situation. Well I suppose at that point we had been standing for less than half an hour, and anyway it appeared that she had fashioned more space for herself between the bags and was able to vary her standing position from time to time.
During the next four and a half hours, of one of the worst travel experiences of my life, the bus must have stopped half a dozen times. To begin with I had logically seen this as my best chance of securing a seat. Yes, I had thought to myself, 20 people get off at Trencin, and so 20 standing people are seated. So there I stood (obviously) and counted the seconds until we arrived at the first stop. Unfortunately, as it turned out only 2 people got off at Trencin, only one of whom was up at my end of the bus and too far away for me to grab her seat. Instead, a middle-aged bearded fellow, 3 mini-rucksacks, a Christmas present bag and a handbag further up from my wife, grabbed the seat and barely before the poor old lady had vacated it. I could hear the bastard sigh a contented sigh as he lowered himself into his seat, like a king in his throne. I may have imagined it, but I'm quite sure I saw him smile at me, a smug sort of smile, which said 'I've joined the ranks of the seated classes, you standing person you!'
Deflated at the thought of standing until the next stop at Povazska Bystrica, I now found myself faced with another problem. The old lady, who wished to get off the bus, was now busy trying to squeeze past my wife, almost tripping over one of the mini-backpacks as she did so. The next, and more difficult, part of this improvised assault course would involve the old lady getting past two huge Samsonite suitcases and me. In short, this was just not going to happen. The only possible solution was that I, the two suitcases, a Christmas present bag and two food bags, would have to get off the bus to let the old lady off. That done, I would have to load them all back on again, hopefully before the driver drove off.
This process took about 5 minutes, although it did seem to take a lot longer under the glare of a bus full of Slovaks, who seemed to watch my every move. As the old lady finally got off the bus she took my hand and thanked me and then smiled a toothless grin. This made me feel really good, and I too smiled as I arranged the hand luggage back on the aisle of the bus, in a slightly different combination so as to create as much space for myself as possible. Then I went back for the suitcases. A man, seated at the front of the bus must have felt sorry for me, as he got up from his seat and helped me lift the two Samsonites that I had been struggling with. While he was up helping me, I half toyed with the idea of stealing his seat, but quickly dismissed this wicked thought from my mind, and then felt extremely guilty after such a show of kindness.
The bus stopped a further three times before I was finally able to get a seat (incidentally my wife was seated after the second stop at Povazska Bystrica). Two of those times I repeated my removal man act for the entertainment of the entire bus, aided once more by the kind hearted Slovak, who was called Jan by the way. Each time I thanked Jan for his help, he nodded his head and said 'okay, okay' as if to reassure me that it was no trouble at all. I liked Jan. In fact, I decided there and then that I would like Slovakia - and those first impressions have been proved right ever since.
Since that day, I have used Slovak public transport on numerous occasions in my journeying throughout the country. On the whole, the bus and train services are very good, far better than in the United Kingdom, and at a fair price too. In fact, that first journey was the only bad experience I have had in Slovakia, and you have to remember that had we been in England we wouldn't have been able to get on the bus in the first place and may have spent Christmas, on our own, in some cheap hotel.
The trip that my wife and I took from Banska Stiavnica to the beautiful little town of Kremnica last week, is a more typical example of a bus journey in Slovakia. It was a 30-mile trip, to the backdrop of stunning mountains, through the picturesque countryside where the unfortunately named "Hell" beer comes from. Ironically, that bus journey from Hell was an altogether more pleasant experience!
