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Im 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 Ive 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!

You say Slovenia, I say Slovakia

Rp
2004-08-12 09:20:17

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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 systems lack of geography has let me down; I knew I should have paid more attention in Mrs. Harasikas 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 Lets 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 arrived at the Bratislavan international train station that has 6 tracks at about noon. For the first time in a while I couldnt 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 ...