> Often the only way to know just where the border is (apart from a sign 'W=
elcome to ...') is a customs post for trucks to check in their cargo as the=
y go between countries.
>
> My memory of crossing a European border was back in '98, driving from Bel=
gium into Germany at night, the Belgian motorway had street lighting at a g=
oodly brightness all the way down, cross into Germany, and suddenly it was =
all blackness with only the headlights to light the way ...

An extremely good measure of which country you are in can be had by
inspecting (or fleeing from) their public toilets. The differences can
be very very very severe. Austrian toilets are about as good as they
come. Clean, paper always available, hand basins with taps that work
and the water from one of them is hot. Soap, towels. Yee ha!.

The by far the abysmally worst toilets we met I will not reveal the
nationality of as I have an abiding respect for the great things the
country has done for the world, even though some have somewhat sullied
it on occasion, and a gross few have done so very badly indeed. I owe
them enough gratitude not to slang them too badly for their toilets.
No, not Switzerland.

The Slovak-Czech border traversed in that direction as notable for the
3 day (literally) many many many km queue of trucks waiting to pass
through border inspection.

In Oz, crossing for the first time from Canberra to Queenbeyan (sp), a
line on the map in a residential area, is an experience.

One day soon in Canberar there will be a new suburb named "Jacka"
after a great great ... uncle of mine. If the inhabitants are anything
like their namesake it will be an extremely  interesting place to
visit. (First Australian WW1 VC). No such luck, I'm sure. Just as
well.


 R


..



                 R

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