Nobody would assume that moving country is simple, but it was only when faced with organising the entire process for myself that I realised just how much had been done for me in the past. And the coronavirus pandemic only served to add layers of complexity to the entire process.

Bratislava was never on my radar, either as a place to which I might want to relocate, or – well – at all. When Guido mentioned his invitation to interview for a job there, the first thing I had to do was look up Slovakia on a map. It’s not uncommon for people to mistake it for Slovenia (scarcely 100 miles apart, to be fair), or immediately think of Czechoslovakia, which I had thought existed during my lifetime (but actually separated in ’93). So for anyone still uncertain, I provide a map below:

From my scant research, it sounds as though public support for separation when it finally occurred was not particularly high (37%, anyone?), but being neither Czech nor Slovak, I am not qualified to comment further. Initial reading talked about a resilient nation which is quite happy with its place in the centre of Europe (and woe betide anyone who calls it “Eastern European”).

Back to the near-present, we were soon distracted by the first coronavirus lockdown in March, and I was much too busy studying for my final exams (and writing a dissertation) to think about anything else. It was only once that mammoth task was completed that I returned to planning a move abroad.

I also had to establish whether this was something I wanted to do. In entirely selfish terms, there was no study or specific employment opportunity that I would be giving up in order to come here. Having just finished a four-year undergraduate degree, I felt that going straight on to a Master’s was not the right decision – although I’m keen to do so eventually. I also felt (though I may well be wrong) that I was just as well to hunt for jobs in Slovakia as in the UK. With my teaching experience, such as it is, I felt that I could probably find something interesting to do for a while, at least.

Furthermore, while it is not especially a goal of mine to live all over the world during my life (and not specifically in Bratislava, either), I am certainly keen to explore in some capacity. The chance to live in Central Europe, a single train journey away from Vienna, Budapest, Prague, Warsaw, and even Berlin, was incredibly tempting – if non-applicable during the pandemic. Incidentally, if you add just one stopover, even more destinations are accessible: Paris, Venice, Moscow, Amsterdam… the list goes on.

I started to think, why not, as much as why? This new line of reasoning produced only hypotheticals; nothing concrete.

Finally, with some counselled help, I managed to ascertain that I was keen to at least experience the move to Bratislava, tempered by the realism that extended unemployment, or having a miserable time, would precipitate a swift return. I am fortunate enough that I would be readily welcome at my parents’ house – rent-free if I was out of work. This massive safety net definitely made the decision easier, and does not deserve to go un-noted. It made it viable to take this risk.

Preparing the move

The process of organising itself was meandering and full of uncertainties; so far, all attempts to discuss it fully have rendered themselves just as uncertain to follow as they were to organise. Instead I have decided to list our steps in (more or less) the order that we sorted them, as though each occurred smoothly and just as we intended from the start.

1. Have a reason to move.
   Guido’s job was the catalyst for moving; as for me, it seems that my guess was, not to tempt fate, more or less correct. That is to say, I’m not sure I’d have any more luck job-hunting at home right now than I’m having out here. My main advantages would seem to be:
   • no looming Brexit;
   • a much reduced economic impact from Covid, compared to the UK;
   • and the marketable skill (much less useful in England) of being a native speaker of English – and soon-to-be qualified TEFL teacher.
2. Find somewhere to live.
   We found flats advertised through Facebook “expat” groups, and plenty of English-using startups with mid-to-long-term contracts. We found a comfortable-looking flat in the Petržalka area (pron. pet-r-jal-ka, where the ‘j’ is a /ʒ/, which sounds like the ‘g’ in ‘mirage’).
3. Establish whether or not we can move.
   This answer was difficult to obtain. The respective embassies (Slovak in the UK; UK in Slovakia) directed us to each other, because of course they did, and the Slovak health authority essentially said ‘no’. Eventually, Guido’s employer provided him with a travel-ban exemption form, but by the time we moved, this was unnecessary. Had we moved out one week later, we wouldn’t even have needed to quarantine upon arrival.
4. Book travel from the UK.
   This was a headache hidden in a simple fix: we booked direct flights to Vienna for £10 each (can you believe), only to have these cancelled a week before departure. Austria was not yet allowing flights from the UK, although UK citizens were technically allowed to travel there.
   Briefly flummoxed, we resorted to train travel: the Eurostar could take us to Brussels, and a sleeper could take us from Cologne to Vienna. Filling in the remaining gaps was simple enough.
5. Get our things to Bratislava.
   Railways are relatively un-regulated (in terms of baggage allowances), but even then, we found ourselves in need of courier services. A popular student courier service offered cut-rates to Czechia, but almost £150 to Slovakia! We eventually found this to be because they insisted on 48-hour delivery; by widening our net and allowing (gasp) up to a week for transit, the price dropped to less than £20 per (large) suitcase.

All of the rest – quarantine, residence, healthcare – was an issue for arrival. Permission, accommodation, and transport, gave us the necessary tools to take the leap – crucially, in an affordable enough way that the process was reversible if things did not go according to plan.

First step? Sorted. But next was the cross-continental journey itself.

—TJC