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You say Slovenia, I say SlovakiaBy Roz PlotzkerI’m in a hostel in London right now on the last leg of a three-week post-study-abroad backpacking crusade. Why am I wasting my time writing in a hostel when I could be out and about seeing the Tate for a third time? Because checkout time is before anything opens, so I’ve got free Internet access and an hour or two to kill before I can face the river of after-Christmas shoppers on Oxford Street. Wheee! When I started to route this euro-adventure I had originally planned to go up through central Europe: Rome to Venice, up through Vienna, Budapest, Krakow, Prague, Berlin, Frankfurt and make my way to Paris via Cheapo-Euro-Airways for new years. In three weeks. Ambitious, no? Then, I looked at a map. Once again the American education system’s lack of geography has let me down; I knew I should have paid more attention in Mrs. Harasika’s social studies class. Who knew that all those cities in seemingly small countries would be spread out on the continent??? Grumble grumble. I realized a few days before I started my trip that I would need to reconsider the destinations, with more of a local focus. On to an all time favorite game, connect the dots/country capitals. I had to cut Krakow out of the trip to the disappointment of my Polish ancestors, as well as Germany (I met plenty of Bavarians in hostels anyways). Like most travel stories, this one has a very silver lining. With three major cities gone, I needed a few days to fill in time and break up the long train rides. Croatia looked like the most interesting, but Zagreb would take me out of the way again. Ljubljana, Slovenia was directly in between Venice and Vienna. Perfect, except it was faster to just take a night train from Italy to Austria. In the end I decided to take a day in Bratislava, in between Vienna and Budapest. According to my Let’s Go bible, errr… travel guide, it would surprise me with its charm. I like surprises, so why not? It would be another stamp in the passport at least.
I’ll admit that there are several variables of my Bratislavan experience that were pure luck, and probably contributed to my enchantment with the place. The weather was fabulous, not a cloud in the sky, a perfect 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Also, I realize that it’s not Christmas time all year round, so the market, the decorations, and the cheery carols playing by the outdoor skating rink will probably disappear by mid January. Granted I was only there for a day, which is about all someone would need to really get a feel for it. Elsewhere in Slovakia, the Tatras mountains provide great hiking, but I can’t speak from personal experience. There are plenty of small towns that are refuges for the traveller overwhelmed by enormous cities: Csezky Krumlov and Kunta Hora near Prague, Brugges, near Belgium, to name a few. In most of these places, a day is all that’s necessary, and to be honest I probably would have gotten antsy had I stayed longer in Bratislava. However short my stay, Bratislava was one of the highlights of my trip so far. So there you have it, the unexpected silvery lining to my rerouted adventure. I’ve gone through a package of biscuits and three tangerines while writing this article. It looks like the stores are opening up outside, so on that note, off to Piccadilly Circus. Contact Information Images by Roz Plotzker |
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I
arrived at the Bratislavan international train station – that has 6 tracks –
at about noon. For the first time in a while I couldn’t find anyone who
spoke English, Italian, or even French. That was the first clue that this
was not a tourist trap. I started to search for the historic center. On the
main road from the train station, Bratislava seemed like a typical town, and
reminded me a lot of Wilmington, Delaware where I grew up. I noticed an open
gate and peaked my head in to find a huge park with manicured hedges and
gravel paths. “What is that building?” I asked a man, pointing to the white
rear of what looked like a town hall. “Oh, ZHAT is vhere zhe president
lives. Zhat is zhe President’s hkouse” Surprise surprise! I’ve stumbled onto
the Slovakian President’s back yard. 
I
continued down the road, and took a fork the wrong way, to discover… a
castle (the Devin Castle). There are no castles in Delaware. Surprise number
two. Finally I was redirected to the historical area, and was suddenly sent
through a time portal to the late 19th century. Somehow Bratislava manages
to harmonize department stores with quaint Slovakian architecture and
cobblestone squares. I felt like Gene Kelly in Brigadoon. What had I found?
It was exactly what sightseers must hope for when they go to Prague or
Krakow: Pedestrian dominated shopping areas, yellow and pink facades, and
decorated iron lampposts and benches lining walk ways. It is really diamond
in the central European rough, authentic to say the least. It’s hard to
believe that the area, called Nam SNP, was the site of a bloody uprising
against fascism. 
I
spent my day in Bratislava wandering, which is probably the best way to
spend time there. A walk along the Danube from old bridge to new bridge
leads back to the Devin Castle, and then it’s easy to navigate the streets
back to the Christmas market, where the food is incredible and cheap (a
major plus for student travellers). For about three dollars I had a whole
freshly fried fish, hot wine also known and punch, and freshly baked bread.
The vendors in the market were not aggressive, and didn’t harass shoppers
with the usual tactics (No, I’ll give you the best price!). In terms of
museums, they are smaller, and there isn’t the pressure to see
world-renowned sites like the Louvre or the Coliseum. This can be good and
bad, depending on what you’re looking for. Coming from Vienna and on my way
to Budapest, I personally felt like I was on a vacation from my vacation. I
had stumbled upon an intact, untouched piece of central Europe where I could
be incognito for a day, instead of my usual role as an American tourist,
consumer of magnets, key chains, and other knick-knacks.