Behind the Quiet Walls of Bratislava

Two hundred and twenty Slovenian crowns left to spend and two hours left to kill. I wondered into a small café and souvenir store off of the main square in Old Town Bratislava. Originally intrigued by the posters of croissants and coffee I decided to sit down at a small corner table with red and white checkered table cloth and table lamp for a second lunch in a measly attempt to spend the remainder of my Slovenian money.

At the counter I eyed a delectable looking chocolate mousse and banana cake. Ordering with only charades and pointing I managed to get a slice and a round warm cup of cappuccino for less than 100 crowns or three euro and then settled into my corner table with my book. Over head was the light and upbeat music of the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. The music carried my thoughts and spirits lighter after a long 7 days traveling around the former Austrian-Hungarian Empire. A quiet moment to myself to think and just really enjoy my surroundings, then I suddenly realized…

Wait! I’m in Bratislava! I actually made it to Bratislava…

Just under four years ago I sailed by that same Bratislava. Recognizable by the large castle fortressed with four corner watch towns that loomed over the entire city at the highest point of the Danube river valley, Bratislava was one of my young and naive dream cities that I wanted to visit. Built off of impressions I gathered from watching the movie Euro Trip with my high school friends, Bratislava in my mind was a poor eastern European city where two pennies could buy you the world. However, on that trip my dreams of seeing the city would sail by on the hydropower boat that carried my high school travel group and me smoothly past on our way to Vienna.

It is still remarkable to me, that my second travel week here at CIMBA panned out that my travel group of four girls wanted to stop by Vienna before returning home to Paderno del Grappa. Since I had already visited the gold clad palaces and gothic style cathedrals of Vienna, Austria, I pulled from my high school dreams the chance to visit Bratislava.

At 7:00 am Saturday November 16, I yanked myself drowsily out of my bunk bed at the Wombats Hostel in Vienna and grabbed my purse and black and white pea coat and made my way to the West Bahn train station to cross the border of Vienna to Slovakia and the undefined border of Western to Eastern Europe.

Only an hour away from Vienna, Bratislava is the capital of Slovakia, a country that has seen war for centuries. The country only gained its independence in 1993 when Czechoslovakia divided into the Czech Republic with Prague as its capital and Slovakia represented by Bratislava.

A city on the rise, Bratislava is starting to flourish as a European hub along the Danube River however its dark history can be seen in every crackling stone building, bullet hole filled walls, and constant military presence.

I arrived at the small, empty train station outside of Bratislava around nine in the morning and quickly realized that I should have printed off a map or found directions before I left because no one spoke English. Finally I found someone in the train station who sold me a map and pointed me in the right direction of the bus.

Take bus 80 – five stops.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I counted to myself as the bus scooted through the west bank of Bratislava and over the main bridge to Old Town, not knowing where I would end up if I lost count.

Five. I jumped off the bus and before me laid the entrance to Old Town and above my left shoulder watched the castle.

Old Town, more than just the walled in portion of Bratislava, was a whole another world. Within the walls, the mix of eastern and western cultures converged in the city streets; however, with each winding street the Old Town remained ghostly dead. Beyond a few small tourist groups and the random store owner, the streets were empty. You could walk for a few blocks and not see a sole, as if you were the only one left.

The city on the outside, people ran around wildly, sirens constantly rang with police cars chasing one another – the people inside with dark masks covering their faces, and trams honking at pedestrians crossing the crowded streets. Yet within the walls of Old Town remained a quiet peace – a peace though that swallowed with it a feeling of deep sadness, in hopes of a revival for the town.

My own mind raced with the history of Bratislava as I read my walking tour guide map and strolled through the Old Town’s many squares and stared in awe at the castle’s grand walls.

But then I spotted that café with its red and white checkered table clothes, warm cappuccino, and moist, crumbly cake. With each bite and sip I was able to quiet my own mind like the walls of Old Town for Bratislava. I was able to swallow the frustrations of traveling to revive my spirit and excitement and – well of course – spend a little cash in a city where you can still almost buy the world for two pennies or at least something more valuable - a new state of mind.