Adventures in Border Crossing, part I

So many people have asked me to tell them the story about being literally smuggled across the border (see our About page) ….so I guess now’s a great time to tell it.

In December, 1992, My daughter and her husband were living in Kaiserslautern, Germany, compliments of the United States Air Force.  My husband and I, still newlyweds, decided to visit them for the Christmas season and see what an “old-fashioned” German Christmas was like.  (Germany was lovely, and we enjoyed every minute of it, including side trips to Amsterdam and parts of France.)

Husband Howard had to return home to get back to work after only a week, but being a student, I had some extra time, so I stayed on and visited as long as I could.  One of the nicest things about living in on a military base is the wonderful opportunity for travel in the host country and its surroundings.  Because the European-American military bases are so close to many exciting cities, the choices are nearly endless, and tour prices are exceptionally good.  The typical tour goes like this:  you get on a bus in the early evening and ride all night, arriving early the next morning. You have all day to sight-see and enjoy the city, and then it’s back on the bus for another 8-12 hours of riding back home.  Kind of a tiring trip, but we were (relatively) young and were willing to do almost anything to travel and see things, especially if the price was right!

Prague at Night

This particular trip, we had already enjoyed an excursion to Paris where we celebrated New Year’s Eve.  Beautiful – and cold, cold, cold for this Texas gal.  After returning to Kaiserslautern, we debated whether the next trip should be to Prague or to the beautiful Swiss Alps.  I wanted to do both, but we had time for only one trip.  So, Prague it was, mainly because it was just coming out from behind the “Iron Curtain,” and as such, it was darkly mysterious to us, and a little forbidden-feeling.

The first indication that the trip might be anything less than wonderful was the bus.  It looked as comfy as the bus to Paris (double-decker and plush seats), but it soon became obvious that there was something wrong with the shock-absorber system.  I can hardly begin to describe how uncomfortable every little bump was.  Because my daughter was five months’ pregnant, this was a real concern!  It was so hard to imagine that we had a good eight hours ahead of us and another 8-10 hours’ ride home on this horrible bus, but there were certainly no efforts made to replace it, and we literally had no choice but to endure.  Sleep was a forgotten concept on this trip.

We arrived in Prague early the next morning, shaken, not stirred, and proceeded to discover how beautiful this lovely city was.  Truly, is there a more beautiful city?  People rave about Paris, London, and Rome, but Prague was absolutely gorgeous!

We had been warned several times about safety and the possibility of having our valuables stolen, so I was very careful with my purse and warned my daughter to do the same.  Every time we arrived at a resting place, I checked to make sure everything was in my purse:  passport, travelers’ checks (together) and cash money (separate from the passport and travelers’ checks).  Each time I looked, I was happy to know that due to my careful attention, I had managed to thwart any would-be thieves.

Toward the end of the day, we were to meet with the rest of the group for a relaxing dinner, then board the bus and head home.  My mind was almost entirely filled with dread for the bumpy ride.  Having successfully made it through the day with possessions intact, I made one last check to assure myself all was well.

To be continued on the next post . . .