When I awoke in Munich after day 3 of Oktoberfest, I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. Originally I had planned to proceed to Salzburg, Austria (about 1 hour away) for a few days before continuing on to Vienna. It didn't occur to me, however, that because of the relative proximity, and the fact that I was departing Munich on an Oktoberfest weekend, all of the hostels and couches would be booked up with people staying in Salzburg and commuting into Munich for the festival. Nuts! I tried everything- hostels, hotels, couchsurfing, and emergency requests. Nothing.
So instead of getting down and out about it I simply came up with an alternative plan. Well, that's not entirely true. What I decided was that I had an immediate and pressing need to get out of Munich as soon as possible. So, I wrote in my first destination on my rail pass, Vienna, and boarded the train. Just an aside, when you get a EurorailPass after the age of 25 you are required to get a first class version. I'm sure I looked very conspicuous in my tattered clothing and general dishevelment sitting in a premier first class seat. At least I showered, so there's that... which is good.
In Vienna I decided it best to first see Bratislava, Slovakia- only about 1 hour east- and then return to Vienna for a longer stay. I'll be honest; I didn't know jack about Bratislava. And apparently neither does anyone else because the city's own tourism board has created a wealth of goods poking fun at this fact. For example, this t-shirt is on sale all over the city:
Again, the tourism board sells these. So, if the tourism board doesn't even know where it is, what, dear reader, should you know about this city? Well I'll be damned if my reader(s) go without at least a rudimentary (read: public school) education on Bratislava. So before we get into Shtoor and all that jazz, here's a brief primer:
Bratislava is the capital of the Republic of Slovakia and a city of around a half-a-million people. For most of its modern history, however, Bratislava was known by its German name: Pressburg. Frankly I like Pressburg much better as "Bratislava" seems like a term you would exclaim during a fire-sale of various frankfurters and other such sausages. Try it out: Bratislava! Anyway, moving on... Bratislava is located on the southwestern-most corner of the country and borders both Austria and Hungary.
In the 10th century it became part of the Kingdom of Hungary and despite the Hungarian defeat at the hands of the Ottomans, the city was never captured. It later therefore became a key city for the Kingdom of Hungary as part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and from the years 1536 to 1830, it was designated as the coronation city and the seat of all Austro-Hungarian kings. During this period eleven Hapsburg kings were crowned at the (otherwise comparatively) small St. Martin's Cathedral.
Due to its early strategic location, the city has suffered damages in numerous sieges and occupations. From the early Turk battles to the bombardment and occupation of Napoleon in 1809 to the damages suffered in WWI and WWII, a number of historic Pressburg buildings have been destroyed and rebuilt over the years. This not to mention the destruction caused by the communist regime which I'll get to later. The height of importance for Pressburg came during the mid-1800's, prior to the strengthening of the Union of Austria and Hungary whereby the crown jewels and nobility dispersed to Vienna and Budapest.
Prior to WWI, the population of Pressburg was largely non-Slovakian. Approximately 80% of the city was occupied by Germans or Hungarians with only 15% or so populated by Slovaks. The end of WWI saw the creation of Czechoslovakia which, despite the demographics, occupied Bratislava and claimed it as part of their territory. The Germans and Hungarians attempted to assert Pressburg as a "free city" naming it Wilsonov after Woodrow Wilson (an American President and personage for whom I have great disdain) who was propagating "free-states" and "democracy" and whatever else he was blowing out his ass in those days.
Ultimately, the Czechoslovakian legions opened fire on unarmed protestors and to make a long story slightly shorter were successful in retaining the city. Most Germans and Hungarians left and the Czechs and Slovaks moved into their houses. It was at this point in 1919 that the name Bratislava was first adopted. At the beginning of WWII, Jozef Tiso, leader of the Slovak People's Party met with Hitler where he was given the options of an "independent" Slovakia where he would be the "president" or continuing the union with the Czechs, which would then result in occupation entire by Nazi forces. He agreed to the former and Bratislava became the capital of the "autonomous" (i.e. puppet state) Slovak Republic under Nazi Germany.
After WWII, Czechoslovakia was reunited under communist rule and the influence of the USSR. It was during this period that the city was targeted for grand communist rebuilding projects. Nearly 80% of the old town of Pressburg/Bratislava was destroyed to make way for modern buildings and city planning including an obscene highway system culminating with the Novy Most (or UFO Bridge). Also note the array of communist-era flats behind the bridge. They stretch the horizon almost as far as the eye can see, yet, they are very much sought after according to our guide.
The most horrifying thing about the bridge and the highway in my opinion, however, is that it goes right past what was once the front door of St. Martin's Cathedral, the former coronation site of the Austro-Hungarian kings. The proximity of the highway has rendered the front entrance of the Cathedral almost entirely useless. If you think this was coincidental, you haven't been reading Wanderlust closely in the past month.
In late 1989 a series of protests across Czechoslovakia resulted in the Velvet Revolution whereby communist rule of the country was dismantled without bloodshed. In 1993 Czechoslovakia split into the Czech Republic and the Republic of Slovakia in what is cheekily described as the "Velvet Divorce." Aptly, though, it was an amicable split (something I've been seldom a party to) and the two countries consider themselves "close friends."
Wow. That was almost a Sarajevo-level history lesson. I guess those t-shirts are really doing their job within the "blogosphere." Hold on a second, I just have to puke from using the term "blogosphere." Ok, much better. When I arrived in Bratislava I noticed a young woman wearing a backpack riding the tram with me who, upon exiting, looked even more confused that I felt about the general direction of the hostel I was searching for. She approached. "Do you speak English?" she asked.
Just as a brief aside, I'm not sure whether to be thrilled or slighted that I'm often mistaken for a local. Often people come up to me asking if I speak English, or people will ask me for directions in the native tongue, or Metro officers will ignore me while stopping others to check for valid tickets. I must have a serious "local" vibe about me. Perhaps I just look menacing, or as one new friend once said "intimidating." In any event, I replied, "Yes. You are looking for Hostel Blues, right?" She was and we began chatting on the way to the hostel. My new friend Erin is from Melbourne, Australia and was in Eastern Europe to run the Budapest Marathon. In the words of Darth Vader, "Impressive. Most impressive."
You may have already spotted her holding up the awesome t-shirt. As typical with most moderate to large European cities there was a free tour on offer. Prior to engaging in such rudimentary procedure, however, we had an urgent need for sustenance. The lovely ladies at the reception pointed us in the direction of a cafe. I couldn't make out the name from what she said- it sounded entirely comprised of consonants- but she did circle it on the map and we were off.
Turns out it wasn't that far off, the name was "Shtoor" and it's a "vintage" coffee shop, all homemade products, attempting to bridge the gap back to the old high society of Pressburg. We got some coffees and food; I a cheese and tomato sandwich, Erin a quiche with spinach and an entire ring of goat cheese settled on top. I've never quite seen quiche done like this.
In addition to our our filling and delicious food, I had probably the most ludicrous coffee item of my life. It was one shot of espresso plus milk, plus foam, plus whipped cream which occupied the majority of a 10 inch milkshake glass. Awesome. Energized and ready to roll we joined up with the free tour which kicked off from the front of Bratislava's probably most attractive and plausibly iconic venue, the National Theater.
The tour popped off, led by a very odd but good-natured fellow. We saw many sights but I won't bore you with all of them since you've already sat through the history lesson. Here are some of the highlights. First, the town hall where they had all kinds of things from administrative functions to a torture chamber. If you look just to the left of the large window above the door of the yellow tower you'll see a little black dot. It's a cannonball left from Napoleon's siege of the city.
Another one of the more iconic elements of the city is the lone surviving gate, St. Michael's Gate. This was the coronation gate meaning that the royal couple proceeded through this gate into the coronation and out of it. Two interesting facts: (1) after the coronation, the procession had to stop at the gate where the new King had to promise the bishop or archbishop of the city that he would be a good king; and (2) after the gate the street takes a right angle turn to the left which was used as a barbicon defense against attackers.
It's also interesting that outside the second gate the original city moat can be seen. It's now used as a park/common space in the summers or hosts patios for various bars and restaurants. Pretty cool. Later we stopped by the square our guide described as the "people's square." Apparently the square (actually a triangle) is used as a meeting place for three purposes by the citizens of Bratislava: (1) to celebrate; (2) to protest; or (3) to mourn. Various incidents have occurred prompting all three within the past year. Also here you will find some monuments to the communist regime as well as the Flagship Restaurant which I'll get to in a bit.
Next up was one of my favorite parts of the tour and the city, the Church of St. Elizabeth aka the Blue Church aka Pastel Church aka Marshmallow Church. It's a church designed by Odon Lechner in an Art Nouveau style. It's called the Marshmallow Church because, well, it looks like it's made of marshmallows. According to our guide, the wait to get married in this church is over four years- which may or may not be a good thing for testing the strength of your relationship. He also designed the really awesome school and gym adjacent to the church.
Our tour ended at what is now the Komensky University but what was once the publishing offices of various newspapers and magazines of Bratislava. During the first uprising against the communist rule, the Soviet soldiers were deployed to Czechoslovakia and the locals painted out or turned the signposts to confuse the soldiers. Anytime they asked for the direction of Prague, they sent them in the wrong direction. There was an iconic photo taken just in front of this building where a man stood shirtless in front of a Soviet tank protesting the troops.
Beat from the tour and still suffering the effects of Oktoberfest, I repaired to the hostel for the remainder of the night. There was no drinking on order due to a mandatory 2 day detox, but I fully intended to work on the blog. The problem was, the internet downstairs wasn't working properly with my computer. So I ended up just pouring through a number of chapters of Sun Tzu's The Art of War before calling it a relatively early night.
The next morning, Erin and I decided to meet early and return to Shtoor to reinvigorate our minds. She was planning to take a mid-day train to Prague so we had a few hours to kill. The general plan was to cruise the city on the way to the Castle, check that out, and then wing the remainder of the time until she had to depart. What we hadn't planned on was a Shtoor-powered mega-mount of everything in sight. It all started with the statue of Napoleon in the main square. I love the sequencing here as Erin makes an oh-so-subtle move before mounting the French emperor.
And... Strike!
Nothing if not grace and class. As a bit of a joke, after the siege of Napoleon, the Slovaks built a bronze statue of Napoleon bent over with his hat pulled over his head. I'll give them one thing, the Slovaks sure are great sports at laughing at themselves. As someone constantly laughing at my own follies, I really love it. Dan- if you're reading, I can absolutely see where you get your sense of humor, ha. I was obliged to get in there as well.
The best part of all of this is that it's literally right outside the French embassy. As in, less than 30 feet from the front door. All day they get to watch people clowning Napoleon. I love the Slovaks more every minute. Our next stop was the castle, which I must say is the most boring castle I've been to so far on my journey. Likely a large part of that is because the castle survived all sieges but when some Italians were invited to help redesign part of it, they had a massive party whereby a fire started and it burned to the ground. The exterior has been rebuilt but they are still working on it. The interior courtyard is completely empty. Anyway, this is the most interesting photo I could come up with.
One sort of interesting (more perplexing, really) thing is that there are a few windows and doors here and there which appear to be from the old structure but in no way match up to the current windows and doors. I never did get to the bottom of this but it's almost like two entirely different styles. But why "rebuild" the castle in a completely new style?
From up at the castle you can look out over Bratislava. That should be exceptionally obvious by now. On the way up Erin got some nice shots of me mounting a Medusa-esque statue... if I can get them I'll post here. Apart from that, here's a good view of the city. Because I know you want it...
On the way back to the hostel we stopped by the Presidential residence, and former royal palace. They call it the "white house." How original. Anyway, there are some guards out front who seem to be unprovokable if you're up for a challenge.
This more or less concludes the tour of Bratislava... or so I thought. But on the way back to the hostel I spotted this:
At first I was all like, "pffft, fish sandwich. we've been eating those for years. idiots." Then I looked closer. "Why is that fish melting.... OH MY GOD IT'S CHEESE!" I was filled with equal parts horror and intrigue. It looks like a fish sandwich to be sure- there's even the tartar sauce on top. But... with cheese?!? Then I remembered the fascination with fried cheese sandwiches in Prague- could it be more than just a Czech thing? Could their Slovak brothers be riding this fried cheese bandwagon as well? Enough to coax a multi-national mega-corporation like McD to invent a new sandwich? This deserved further investigation.
But it would have to wait as I had already decided via very hearty recommendation by the hostel to dine at Flagship for the evening. Flagship is a restaurant built in a former theater. But they didn't gut the entire thing, they simply built the space around the existing theater. Very cool. They even have an awesome bar area downstairs in what would be the waiting area/coat check during the old days. This is what most of the main dining room looks like but there are more tables upstairs obviously.
The reason I went there was because they serve traditional Slovak food at a very very cheap rate. Reputably its the best Slovak food for your money in the main part of the city. I must say I couldn't complain- they stuffed me to the point of bursting and it all cost me less than ten euro. The first dish was garlic soup with cheese in a homemade breadbowl.
It sounds a bit aggressive but in fact tasted more like a mild french onion soup served in a breadbowl. My father would love it. The main course was Bryndzové halušky, the national dish. It's a shredded potato pasta (similar to gnocchi) in a sheep's cheese sauce and topped with smoked gelled bacon. It tasted a bit like a more tart fettuccini alfredo and, much to my surprise, the bacon was the only non-tasty part.
This is one hell of a dish. It's heavy and it packs a whallop. If you plan on doing... anything within a few hours of eating this I recommend you select a lighter fare. For those of you of robust disposition who enjoy a heartier fare: have at you! That night I was too comatose from the food and still booze-weary from Oktoberfest so I spent the night working on catching up Wanderlust and turned in relatively early.
I had one more day in Bratislava but I wasn't in any huge rush to do anything. After the insanity of London, my English/Scottish/Irish adventure, the crazy run around in the Balkans, NY, and finally Oktoberfest, I was very content to have a bit of a down day. (Expect more of these in the future). But I did manage to take a brief walk around town where, much to my horror, I encountered this statue of bloodthirsty Stalin!
I honestly didn't do a whole heck of a lot that day with one notable exception; I got to the bottom of the McDonald's fried cheese sandwich. I do this for you dear reader. I'm sure this took at least a day off my life so, please, enjoy. My first play was to stroll confidently into the McD's. Easy enough. Now, attempt to order it... but what the hell is it called? Look back at that poster- there could be easily 4 names for this thing. In the store I saw a sign that seemed to indicate McSyr (McCheese), which seemed to fit so that's what I went with. Bingo. A minute or so later, I have this:
Whoa. Almost exactly like the picture. No, seriously it's really spot on... I'm... so confused. That's actually quite impressive. How... when everything else... I don't.... But, alas, no time to form a committee; we've got to dig into this fast food/traditional fare hybrid cheese magnum opus as, with any fried food, time is of the essence.
The verdict: Uh, wait... did I bite this yet or not? The bun and tartar sauce were identical to the fish sandwich. But instead of that mild fish kick, I got... nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. The cheese had no flavor. You could tasted the fried part- but where the fish flavor normally exerts its reliably uniform aurora, there was a vacancy. Plus, the cheese wasn't really melted. I think if this came hot out of the fryer, well the taste wouldn't improve but, the consistency would be much more fun as you would be biting into an explosion of cheese. At least the street vendors in Prague do this one element properly. Anyway, this is what I got when I bit in:
It was quasi-melty. The good news is, if any of you out there had been thinking, "why can't McDonald's just make a mozzarella stick sandwich?" you are in luck. Admittedly, I don't know who you are, but allow me to tip you: Bratislava, Slovakia. Ask for it fresh minus the tartar sauce. Bring your own tomato sauce or you'll just have to make do with ketchup.
That night I was finally ready for a beer but I still wasn't interested in a long night out or any facsimile thereof. So I had a few beers with the folks down at the hostel bar/lounge, did some reading and writing, and called it a night. Albeit not really the insanity you, dear reader, may have hoped for in Bratislava (provided you know "where the f*ck is Bratislava"), but everyone needs a bit of a holiday, especially from their holiday.
Overall I was impressed with Pressburg, errr, Bratislava. It was insanely cheap for the location and the people were friendly. Hostel Blues was awesome and the food was great- even if the McSyr was a bit of a let down. I could definitely see myself revisiting Bratislava. Especially if I somehow one day end up living in my Western European mecca: Prague. Next up, backtracking to Vienna to hopefully visit a dear dear Wanderlust friend.
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