One Taxi Ride Through Three Different Countries.Austria, Hungary, Slovakia.

There are many ways to feel like an international man of mystery.  

You could wear sunglasses indoors.  

You could order a martini and pretend you know what “dry” means.  

Or  and this is the budget option  you could simply get into a taxi in Central Europe, where the borders are so close together that if you sneeze at the wrong moment, you may accidentally immigrate.

This is how I found myself in a taxi that, according to the meter, was travelling through Austria, Hungary, and Slovakia, all in the time it normally takes me to find the seatbelt buckle.

The adventure began in Vienna, a city famous for classical music, elegant architecture, and drivers who treat speed limits as polite suggestions. My taxi driver  let’s call him Viktor, because that was his name  greeted me with the universal phrase spoken by taxi drivers everywhere:

“Where you go?”

I told him my destination, which was technically in Slovakia but close enough to Hungary that the GPS became confused and started blinking like it needed adult supervision. Viktor nodded, shrugged, and performed the sacred taxi-driver ritual of pressing every button on the dashboard until something beeped.

And then we were off.

Austria: The Calm Before the Border

Austrian roads are smooth, orderly, and designed by people who believe in rules. The scenery is beautiful in that “postcard you buy but never send” way. I was feeling relaxed, confident, even cultured.

This lasted approximately four minutes.

Because that’s when Viktor announced, in the tone of a man commenting on the weather:

“We go Hungary now.”

He said this as casually as someone saying, “We’ll take the next left.”  

Except the next left was another country.

Hungary: The Land of Sudden Speed

Crossing into Hungary is seamless. One moment you’re in Austria, the next you’re in a place where the road signs contain more accents than a French film festival.

The speed limit also appears to be “whatever your tyres can emotionally handle.”

Viktor, who had been driving at a perfectly reasonable pace in Austria, suddenly accelerated like he was trying to outrun his past. The taxi began making noises usually associated with space launches.

I asked, “Is this… normal?”

He replied, “Hungary roads good for speed,” which is the kind of sentence that does not reassure you when your organs are rearranging themselves.

Slovakia: The Surprise Ending

Just as I was beginning to accept my new life as a blur, Viktor pointed at a sign and declared:

“Slovakia!”

He said it with the enthusiasm of a man announcing free biscuits.

Slovakia appeared instantly no fanfare, no border guards, not even a sign saying “Welcome, please don’t litter.” One moment we were in Hungary, the next we were in a country that looked exactly the same except the road markings had slightly different vibes.

At this point, I realised something important:  

I had travelled through three countries without ever leaving my seat.  

This is the kind of efficiency the airline industry can only dream of.

The Grand Finale

We arrived at my destination, which was either a hotel, a government building, or possibly someone’s house — I was too disoriented to tell. I paid Viktor, who cheerfully informed me:

“If you want, I take you back through Czech Republic also.”

I declined, mostly because I feared that if I stayed in the taxi any longer, I would accidentally complete the entire EU.