Prior to being in Vienna, our only exposure to the city of Bratislava had been from a movie titled Eurotrip. After the success of teen ‘gross-out’ movies like American Pie, there was a period of time where it seemed like movie studios churned out hundreds of stupid movies with no-name actors, all geared towards the pubescent male. From this onslaught sprung Eurotrip, which we rented on other’s recommendations, and to our surprise (or perhaps because of our low expectations), we really enjoyed as a dumb, funny movie. In the film, Bratislava is portrayed as the embodiment of grey, soulless Eastern Bloc society, 20 years behind the rest of the world, but where you can comfortably live off $3 a day. Some of the more quotable moments from the film come from an older man eager to speak to Americans. He says, “America? I LOVE America. Miami Wice – Number 1 new show!” As the kids look around at the drab apartment buildings he says, “It is good you came here in summer. In winter it can be very depressing.”
So it may come as a surprise that Todd and I decided to spend our Saturday visiting the capital of Slovakia. In truth, Bratislava is a mixture of all the stereotypes presented. You feel bad for the city, because for many Americans who had never even heard of it prior to the film, it will forever be the sad image of city stuck behind the Iron Curtain. Their tourism office has begun a concerted marketing campaign in Austria and neighbouring countries, billing itself as “the Little Big City.” Since it’s only an hour train ride from Vienna, you can’t help feeling like Bratislava is the Reno to Vienna’s Las Vegas.
Arriving in the Bratislava train station, you do feel like you’ve entered the Eastern Bloc. Squat, grey, graffiti-covered buildings surround the station. After we go through passport control (twice), we walk into the dilapidated sitting area and look for the restroom. We go downstairs and see that the Kassas (or WC) are right beside the abandoned underground parking lot, and a part of you wonders if a member of the KGB is going to jump out of the shadows and silently snatch you away. After both of us enter the restrooms (whose aroma I can’t even begin to describe), we realize that there is no toilet paper or paper towels anywhere, and I thank my lucky stars that I’ve got Kleenex in my purse. Once I leave the bathroom I notice an attendant in a boxy stall beside the parking lot, and realize that she’s there to sell you toilet paper and paper towels. Ah, it’s the little things in life you take for granted back home. You wonder how many tourists have been stuck in that bathroom (Kleenex-less), cursing Stalinist policies.
Once we get on the right bus and head towards the Old Town Centre, we begin to see the red-roofs and church steeples that were in the Bratislava tourism guide. Collective sigh of relief that we weren’t hoodwinked into going to post-Soviet shitsville. And in a strange twist of fate, on the bus I see a couple holding a Rick Steves travel book. I strike up a conversation with them and find out that they are on vacation (visiting Vienna, Krakow, Budapest, and Prague), and that they are from Berkeley – specifically from the Berkeley hills behind the Claremont Hotel. I still can’t believe that in a run-down Slovakian bus 6,000 miles from home we met two people who lived a mile from our house on Panoramic Way. Too freaking weird.
Arriving in the Old City Centre (which is pedestrian-only), Bratislava truly is adorable. Walking the cobblestone streets and back-alleys of the Old Town, Bratislava is – dare I say – romantic, and not at all the picture of depression it seemed like at the train station. And while you probably can’t live on $3 a day, you can go pretty cheaply. My ice cream cone definitely tasted a little sweeter because it cost a mere 40 cents.
The other thing we couldn’t help noticing while we were there were the numerous weddings taking place, with brides and grooms taking their pictures beside various Slovakian monuments. In particular, we noticed (and Todd helpfully pointed out) just how beautiful the brides were, especially relative to their soon-to-be husbands. Our roommate Vera had told us before that in Bulgaria there is a 5:1 ration of women to men. This is largely due to the number of men (often the ‘better ones’) who leave the country for the EU or elsewhere in search of better jobs and opportunities. Single American men take note: as a result, there are significantly more women there than men, and women are grateful to find a man, because it’s strongly discouraged to be without a boyfriend or husband. According to Vera, Bulgarian women will often end up with balding, overweight, cruel, and abusive men (who publicly keep mistresses on the side) but must be grateful they have these fine specimens of man. While I can’t speak to the character of the grooms we saw, I will say that every one of them was marrying a stunningly gorgeous woman, and the men were…not so hot. Here’s hoping their inner beauty outshines their outer beauty, and they buck the stereotype.
After a hike up to the Bratislava castle (where you can get an expansive view of the communist apartment buildings that stretch as far as the horizon), we hiked back down to the Old Town and later made our way ‘home’ to Vienna. I’m not sure if Bratislava can sell itself as a place for lovers, but it does possess some surprisingly quaint corners that make the Little Big City worth visiting for an afternoon.
So it may come as a surprise that Todd and I decided to spend our Saturday visiting the capital of Slovakia. In truth, Bratislava is a mixture of all the stereotypes presented. You feel bad for the city, because for many Americans who had never even heard of it prior to the film, it will forever be the sad image of city stuck behind the Iron Curtain. Their tourism office has begun a concerted marketing campaign in Austria and neighbouring countries, billing itself as “the Little Big City.” Since it’s only an hour train ride from Vienna, you can’t help feeling like Bratislava is the Reno to Vienna’s Las Vegas.
Arriving in the Bratislava train station, you do feel like you’ve entered the Eastern Bloc. Squat, grey, graffiti-covered buildings surround the station. After we go through passport control (twice), we walk into the dilapidated sitting area and look for the restroom. We go downstairs and see that the Kassas (or WC) are right beside the abandoned underground parking lot, and a part of you wonders if a member of the KGB is going to jump out of the shadows and silently snatch you away. After both of us enter the restrooms (whose aroma I can’t even begin to describe), we realize that there is no toilet paper or paper towels anywhere, and I thank my lucky stars that I’ve got Kleenex in my purse. Once I leave the bathroom I notice an attendant in a boxy stall beside the parking lot, and realize that she’s there to sell you toilet paper and paper towels. Ah, it’s the little things in life you take for granted back home. You wonder how many tourists have been stuck in that bathroom (Kleenex-less), cursing Stalinist policies.
Once we get on the right bus and head towards the Old Town Centre, we begin to see the red-roofs and church steeples that were in the Bratislava tourism guide. Collective sigh of relief that we weren’t hoodwinked into going to post-Soviet shitsville. And in a strange twist of fate, on the bus I see a couple holding a Rick Steves travel book. I strike up a conversation with them and find out that they are on vacation (visiting Vienna, Krakow, Budapest, and Prague), and that they are from Berkeley – specifically from the Berkeley hills behind the Claremont Hotel. I still can’t believe that in a run-down Slovakian bus 6,000 miles from home we met two people who lived a mile from our house on Panoramic Way. Too freaking weird.
Arriving in the Old City Centre (which is pedestrian-only), Bratislava truly is adorable. Walking the cobblestone streets and back-alleys of the Old Town, Bratislava is – dare I say – romantic, and not at all the picture of depression it seemed like at the train station. And while you probably can’t live on $3 a day, you can go pretty cheaply. My ice cream cone definitely tasted a little sweeter because it cost a mere 40 cents.
The other thing we couldn’t help noticing while we were there were the numerous weddings taking place, with brides and grooms taking their pictures beside various Slovakian monuments. In particular, we noticed (and Todd helpfully pointed out) just how beautiful the brides were, especially relative to their soon-to-be husbands. Our roommate Vera had told us before that in Bulgaria there is a 5:1 ration of women to men. This is largely due to the number of men (often the ‘better ones’) who leave the country for the EU or elsewhere in search of better jobs and opportunities. Single American men take note: as a result, there are significantly more women there than men, and women are grateful to find a man, because it’s strongly discouraged to be without a boyfriend or husband. According to Vera, Bulgarian women will often end up with balding, overweight, cruel, and abusive men (who publicly keep mistresses on the side) but must be grateful they have these fine specimens of man. While I can’t speak to the character of the grooms we saw, I will say that every one of them was marrying a stunningly gorgeous woman, and the men were…not so hot. Here’s hoping their inner beauty outshines their outer beauty, and they buck the stereotype.
After a hike up to the Bratislava castle (where you can get an expansive view of the communist apartment buildings that stretch as far as the horizon), we hiked back down to the Old Town and later made our way ‘home’ to Vienna. I’m not sure if Bratislava can sell itself as a place for lovers, but it does possess some surprisingly quaint corners that make the Little Big City worth visiting for an afternoon.
3 comments:
So even if you had to deal with "mouldy cheese," I'm definitely envious! Bratislava looks beautiful. Also, I love that they still have Soviet era menus that list how much the item weighs. That's classic!
OK... you've been there too long. I see you've adopted (I'm gonna call it British, but that's my uncultured take on it) the Bristish spelling of neighbor! It must have been nice to have a little touch of home while on this little excursion. And, Rick Steves!! I actually went out to eat the other day and swore that Mr. Stahnke was dining there as well. I actually had the waitress investigate! It wasn't him :( Keep enjoying yourself!
So Kristen, you've made me into a "voyeur." Apparently, at the top of your blog, there is a tab that says "next blog." So I clicked on it, and I guess it takes you to random blogspot blogs. Hilarious! People's blogs in Spanish, Portugese, German. People's blogs about their cute kids. Love it!
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