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There is a small shop in Vyšné Nemecké, standing by the road just a stone's throw away from the Slovak-Ukrainian border. A lorry driver is unloading barrels of beer outside. In that moment, I'm wondering if the beer is for the many lorry drivers crossing the village or for the some 200 local people living here.

Vyšné Nemecké, a town in the Košice Region's Sobrance district, is the only road crossing point for lorries on the Slovak-Ukrainian border. Find many similar interesting facts about Eastern Slovakia in the Košice Region guide.

"The locals will drink it," the shop owner Andrea Jenčíková laughs when she tells The Slovak Spectator.

She inherited the business from her parents and wanted to keep running it, so she stayed in the village. The shop seems to thrive, but her competitors have gone out of business.

"If there weren't the border, nothing would be here," Jenčíková notes briefly.

Many foreigners with Slovak roots try to find the places where their ancestors are buried. Below is a map of the Sobrance and Michalovce districts, eastern Slovakia, with all the cemeteries marked.

The border regions in eastern Slovakia have been of little interest to most Slovak governments after the fall of communism in 1989. At times, they are described as Slovakia's "Far East" by people living in the west of the country, which some easterners find offensive. These easterners point out that nobody pokes fun at Bratislava for being on the periphery of Slovakia. The Slovak capital also lies on the border with Austria and Hungary.

Peter Zuza, the mayor of Vyšné Nemecké, says that six shops and eight pubs existed in the town in the times of communism. Today, there's just one village shop. No pub.

"We have one more restaurant here, but it closes at 15:00," he adds.

A few young people live in the village. New people don't come in droves to settle down in the village here, the mayor says. A case in point: only one house has been built here in five years. The reason? Well-paid jobs have long been a scarcity in these border areas. The mayor sees hope in Ukrainian people, though. Older houses in Vyšné Nemecké have been bought in recent years by people from Ukraine, the neighbour invaded by Russia in February 2022.

Discover Eastern Slovakia with our Košice Guide.

Slovakia's territory was part of different monarchies throughout the history, including the Austro-Hungarian Empire from 1867 until 1918. Until 1992, with the exception of the inter-war years 1939-1945 during which the Nazi-aligned Slovak state existed, the territory was a part of Czechoslovakia. As a result, the current names of Slovak municipalities were different.Here's a list of the largest municipalities in Michalovce and Sobrance district with their historical names stated in the brackets: Michalovce (Nagymihályi) Sobrance (Szobránc ) Budkovce (Butka) Drahňov (Deregnyő) Malčice (Málca) Nacina Ves (Nátafalva) Pavlovce nad Uhom (Pálóc) Strážske (Őrmező) Trhovište (Vásárhely) Veľké Kapušany (Nagykapos) Vinné (Vinna) Other villages mentioned in the story: Husák (Ungludas or Huszák) Lekárovce (Lekart (1920), Lekárd (1939) and Lekarovce (1948) Orechová (Dióska) Petrovce (Ungpetróc or Ungpéteri) Pinkovce (Ungpinkóc) Vyšné Nemecké (Felsőnémeti) The full list of all Slovak municipalities, including their historical names, can be found at ww.geni.sk (in Slovak only).

"I'm glad that those houses are not falling into decay, and that they decided to renovate and move into them," the mayor says about the Ukrainian newcomers.

A gateway to the EU without a motorway

Dozens of customs officers and police officers work at the Vyšné Nemecké border crossing. Most of them are not local people. The mayor estimates that about 20 locals work at the border.

Almost everyone who has moved out of Vyšné Nemecké left for work, Zuza says, either to Košice or even to other countries, especially to Germany.

"If a person can earn €3,000 a month abroad but only €600 in Sobrance, they won't stay here," the mayor explains.

The average monthly Slovak salary in 2023 was €1,430. In the Sobrance area, salaries are much lower compared to the rest of the country and to the other parts of Košice Region. Also, the unemployment rate in the district is high.

According to Pinkovce mayor, Natália Meňköová, the recipe for persuading people to live in the border area is simple.

"People must have a job and the prospect of a decent living, nothing else will keep them here, not even a new football field," Meňköová says.

A large factory would bring life back to the region, she thinks. Those who remain in this area work mainly in agriculture or in the woods. There's plenty of forests and arable land. However, agriculture does not attract young people because it is hard work and there is a lot of uncertainty.

The two mayors add that it would be for the best if the long-awaited construction of a motorway began. The construction of this road, connecting Košice with the Ukrainian city of Uzhhorod should start, not end, in Vyšné Nemecké, Zuza thinks.

Locals would then take care of the little things such as the revival of small local businesses, says Meňköová.

But the outflow of people isn't the only thing that bothers the mayors. They think the border villages should look nicer.

"We're no periphery of the republic, we are a gateway to the European Union," Meňköová says.

The Pinkovce mayor herself sets a good example for the government. Although the village isn't rich, Meňköová mows the the local Jewish cemetery at the expense of the municipality.

"We can't all live in Bratislava"

Unlike the Jewish cemetery, some houses in the village are falling apart. The owners died and the descendants aren't interested in them. Either they're living abroad or in other parts of Slovakia. A large house can be bought here for the price of a small flat in Košice, the second largest Slovak city.

People from Pinkovce have emigrated abroad for a long time. One local is in the USA, another lives in Tasmania, Australia.

"We're in contact by email and she's interested in what goes on in our village," says Meňköová.

But immigrants from larger towns are the hope for the aging village of Pinkovce, whose population decreased from 400 to less than 200 in the past years. People from Michalovce and Košice buy houses and plots of land here, the mayor says. They mostly have ties to the village through their ancestors.

"We can't all live in Bratislava," Meňköová argues.

There's a community reading room named after the local painter Štefan Hapák in the village, a church, and also several traditional country houses that have been sensitively renovated to make the village look beautiful. And then, there's stunning nature all around.

Rafters may want to try the Uh river, which forms the border of Pinkovce. But according to the mayor, the water isn't suitable for swimming. As well, in the summer the banks of the river are full of the invasive plant called cow parsnip; the plant can cause burns on skin. Therefore, the river is mainly used by fishermen.

Also, part of the river is the external EU border, so it isn't possible to move completely freely in some areas.

Košice region travel guide: On the border between Western and Eastern European culture.

"There are cameras because it is the Schengen Area border. It's different from the rivers on the border with Hungary," explains the mayor.

The Schengen Area is a zone within the EU that allows people to travel freely in it as there are no internal borders. However, not all EU member states are part of the area.

If tourists came to the village, the mayor would recommend visiting Rudolf Felšӧci's cafe and The Museum of Smuggling in the neighbouring village of Lekárovce, through which the Uh also runs.

Drinking coffee next to smugglers

Felšӧci and his family returned to his native village of Lekárovce eight years ago. Originally, they had planned to stay for three months for family reasons. Before their relocation to the village, they had lived in Košice and worked in the media.

When Felšӧci was thinking about what he could do for a living in Lekárovce, he came up with the idea of establishing a cafe and a museum.

Having worked in the media, his wife Vanda and he had often worked on the Slovak-Ukrainian border and listened to many interesting stories from local people. Not only about people smuggling and smugglers, but also about the history of the border, which few people know about.

"We thought that it could be interesting to collect all the stories about the border in one place," recalls the co-founder of the Na Čiare (On the borderline) project.

While researching the local real estate market, they learned that there was no place in the area where people could drink good coffee and have a cookie. Thus, they put these two ideas together.

The cosy cafe is housed in a shipping container. The adjacent Na Čiare Museum can also be found in such containers. Visitors can learn here how creative local and Ukrainian smugglers were when smuggling people and cigarettes to the other side. They used planes, cars, and also underground tunnels.

Diplomats from Israel, an ethnologist from the Czech Republic, and journalists from the French newspaper Le Figaro, for example, have visited the museum.

The cafe is busy even in the off-season at the beginning of March, at the time of The Slovak Spectator's visit. Customers come from the surrounding areas but also from abroad. Ukrainians stop by for coffee and Hungarians from Veľké Kapušany come to grab a cookie.

According to the owner, it'd be enough to have what a village near Bratislava has to develop tourism: the motorway, better roads, companies, and money.

"We'll develop tourism ourselves. We have enough natural beauty and attractive places here," Felšӧci says.

American in Husák

Jana Ray-Tutková is also a returnee. She lives in Husák, in the village of her parents. But she didn't come alone. She brought her whole family with her, including her American husband Andrew Ray.

"We came here because I am a Husák child," Ray-Tutková jokes about the reasons for settling down in the tiny village.

Husák children were a generation born in a strong population wave in former Czechoslovakia, which began at the time of so-called normalisation (a reversal of political and economic reforms following the 1968 Prague Spring, ed.) in the early 1970s. At that time, Slovak Gustáv Husák served as First Secretary of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia.

Ray arrived in Slovakia for the first time as a volunteer, and only for a few weeks, but he fell in love with the country. After many years of living in the south of the USA, his Slovak wife and he decided to settle in the house of his wife's grandma.

At first, the couple looked for peace from city life and wanted to establish an organic farm in Husák. They eventually cancelled that plan, although they breed sheep for their own needs. Ray works for different firms from home. All he needs is a computer and a reliable internet.

It was the high-speed internet that surprised him in Husák.

"I was very impressed that a local entrepreneur had a business built on bringing the internet to a remote village. In the US, at that time, there was no internet on farms or it was unreliable and expensive," he says.

The pair agree that Husák is yet another village with an aging population. Only a few families with small children live here. They are usually engaged in farming or working in the forest. Some young people work at the Lidl in Sobrance, others work as police officers. The police are a big employer in the region.

Cycling tourism and wine

Farming is limited by fragmented land parcels, which is difficult to buy from the original owners.

"If someone wants to do business here, they have to try to consolidate the land. The state should make land readjustments easier," thinks Ray.

This is also why he sees cattle and sheep breeding as more promising than growing wheat. Moreover, he's convinced the region is a great place for cycling tourism. But villages or the state must invest in the infrastructure, Ray adds.

"When Ukraine joins the EU and the Schengen Area, I can imagine that cycling tourism will develop even across the border," the American continues.

According to his wife, the region lacks promotion. A few people know about a nice water park and hotels around the Zemplínska Šírava reservoir. It's nicknamed the "Slovak Sea".

"I tell my friends that Slovakia has everything they don't have at home," Ray says, naming castles as an example.

Hidden gems in the east: Smuggling museum, 'Croatian' lake, and guitar heaven

The American believes that the Sobrance district could be as popular as Tokaj, a famous wine-making region in Hungary. There are plenty of vineyards in the district, and nice hills around. And there are also successful winemakers, like Pivnica Orechová, the winery in Orechová established 30 years ago. For example, Orechová winemakers cultivate 56 hectares of vineyards and produce around 300,000 litres of wine every year.

Ukrainian people from Uzhhorod used to come to the region for wine tastings before the war. Ray would also want to show the region's thriving winemaking tradition to Americans one day. But he sees one negative aspect.

"I don't feel enthusiasm from the people here to move things forward, negativism prevails here," the American says, describing his feelings after 14 years spent in Husák.

A village next to the green border

Foreigners and tourists like the region's nature and peace, but life is difficult for people, Petrovce Town Hall worker Alena Horňáková tells The Slovak Spectator.

"We feel we are on the periphery because everything is far from here. Next to us is only the green border," she says.

Petrovce - a rare Slovak village due to edible chestnuts growing here - is the last village before reaching the border with Ukraine. Next, one can only see forests before arriving in Huta, a village in Ukraine.

Negativism comes from the fact that the availability of work is limited and buses run infrequently, making it difficult to get to work or a shop in Sobrance. People need cars. That is also why the 200 inhabitants of the village are mostly old people, she says.

"There are few young people here, and if there are any, they just bought weekend cottages," notes Horňáková.

A school and a kindergarten were closed in the village in the 1990s. There were not enough children. Groceries and pubs also disappeared. Only the church still serves local people.

Residents of Petrovce also used to have more active contact with Huta residents. Slovaks used to go to the market there. People have families there even today. But after Russia's invasion of Ukraine, the interaction quieted down.

"Though life's difficult here, we're still better off than the Ukrainians," Horňáková says about the economic situation of local people.

A cooperative continues to operate in the village. There is a forestry association, and a drug rehab centre. Horňáková notes that several villages grouped in the Koromľa Microregion are working on improving tourism. Once some investors wanted to build a golf course in the area, but it eventually remained just on paper due to fragmented land ownership.

"It's hard to start something here when the grocery shop didn't last here either," concludes Horňáková.

Spectacular Slovakia travel guides