DAY FIVE
Ukraine
After an hour´s driving we arrived at the border crossing. A friendly guard took an interest in the kind of motor in the Mazda, and it was clear this was not the usual kind of vehicle that crossed into the Ukraine here; the last small corner in the northwest of the country. We received a slip of paper confirming we were two travellers and drove 10 meters to the next check. Border officials whether police or customs are not noted for their speed, and although we were only 5-6 cars, it took 20 minutes before first customs, then passport control let us through. Then it was deliver our slip of paper and we were in!
But only in the demilitarised zone, no-man´s land, and the procedure started again. This involved checking the car papers - and the lady at the customs desk had obviously not come across "summer plates" before, i.e. a car licensed only for the summer months. We had to open the boot, too. But 20 minutes later were finally in the Ukraine.
From the border at Uzhhorod, where we crossed, to Mukatschewe took about an hour. Then we stopped and walked on Ukrainian soil. At first glance, a tired city with some new shops but a lively population going on its "business as usual." However, we had passed a military base and there were soldiers in the city and more than one memorial to the fallen on the eastern fronts.
We had crossed a flat plain surrounded by higher hills or mountains from Kosice, and now we were viewing the same beautiful scenery. Again, there was an abundance of wheat (already gathered) and maize (looking a bit weedy and very dry). The houses were similar to those in Slovakia: fairly small, plain buildings (looking like the original British council house) occasionally painted a nice pastel colour, although many here had a sort of pagoda of vines in their small front gardens. Many of the villages were "ribbon villages" with all the houses set out at regular intervals, and if you looked carefully past the main house there were usually one, or even two, houses behind where subsequent generations had built their house.
An hour later we stopped at a lake to eat our sandwiches. A smaller lake was full of bird life; mostly white herons.
Crossing the country we had Ukraine stretching northwards towards Lviv, and south and east lay Hungary. Our trip kept us travelling southeast towards the Romanian border. Approximately where the two countries begin to meet there are the hills of Ukraine to the north and the hills of Romania to the south. Here, there are a number of wooden churches. Although closed and locked up - and hidden from the world - not even a signpost to say they are here - they are immensely attractive. Although one was obviously undergoing repair, it looked as though the workers had left some time ago.
Right outside the last of the three (of 4) we visited, a more modern "cousin" had been erected. What a contrast. But this was similar to many we had seen on the journey. The prettiest had been an hour before and much nicer than the one here in this tiny hamlet with maybe 500 inhabitants.
Obviously the church is not short of money.
At the border, the same procedure in reverse. The charming customs guy (of Romania) admired the car, talked about the engine and then proceeded to search motor, seats, and boot before letting us proceed. Whether he just wanted to get an idea of what it was like before buying his own I do not know.
I do know that the rickety wooden bridge between Ukraine and Romania (cars and many pedestrians only) would have been condemned as unsafe in both Germany and UK.
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