Slovakia

Before I begin, it's worth pointing out that I had decided to keep this blog free of expletives but there comes a time for everything and so if you are easily offended by foul language then you may want to skip this post!

After a wonderful classic train journey from Budapest to Bratislava I arrived refreshed (yet homeless) in one of Europe's newest independent countries. Having found most of the last few railway stations to be awash with accommodation touts I felt sure that it was a simple matter of reviewing what was on offer and then probably selecting either the cheapest or most central. Instead I found a rather ordinary looking ticket hall containing a few food stalls and two nice young girls wearing 'Orange Hostel' tee shirts. I had seen Orange Hostel online a few hours before I left Hungary but having only skimmed what was on offer, I had neglected to read any of the reviews. Nevertheless, the girls talked me through the pricing option and with the further offer of a free transfer, it wasn't long before I was bombing through central Bratislava in the cab of yet another Manchester United fan. "Rooney!!! Rooney!!!" chanted the cabbie whilst grinning as though to suggest I was his twin. I get this a lot! My theory is that most people on the continent suffer from poor translation and in fact what they mean to say is that I bear a striking resemblance to David Beckham, a theory that as improbable as it may be, offers me a moment of stardom in an otherwise tedious life.

The cabbie dropped me off outside and hurridly ran in to the office no doubt to collect his fee for dragging yet another poor soul into the hellhole that I was about to experience. Of course at this point I was totally oblivious to this impending drama and perhaps, having already left most of communist Europe behind me, a little off guard as to how low peoples standards can actually drop! A friendly chap at the reception desk sat me down and asked for my passport so that one of the girls could start to fill in one of the forms required for the stay whilst I had a stab at the other. After a few minutes I got my key for a 4 bed dorm on the 4th floor and I headed to the lift to dump my bags before setting off to explore Bratislava. The lift was bad but I've had worse and so this did not really concern me as much as what I found outside it on level 4. The place looked pretty much like those old condemned mental hospitals that kids crept into in 80s movies thinking "We'll be OK in here...". The doors were cell-like slammers lacking only the serving hatch on the outside and pictures of naked women on the inside. The main areas were seperated by caged doors and after walking down most of the corridor I found my room and inside were 4 single beds and a couple of desks. It was at this point that I realised I was in a school of some sort but as to what you might have done to end up here, I don't want to know!

After a short walk, and arguably the best pizza I have ever had, I wandered back to 'Orange Borstal' to collect my thoughts and make a decision as to whether or not to go out that evening. I retreived my key and headed back up the lift to walk into what history books have accurately described as the stone age! English stags, Turkish thugs and a bunch of shirtless dickheads that make the NF look like boy scouts. Given their proven ability to bang rocks together with some success I don't really want to offend my Neanderthal ancestors by labelling these oxygen thieves with the same name so I'll simply refer to them as massive wankers! Upon entry to my 'cell' I discovered 2 more rucksacks that had been hastily stashed in the same manner as I had a few hours earlier and I sat on the bed listening to a noise from the corridor that sounded uncannily like T-Rex's roar from Jurassic park. After 5 minutes of this I decided to venture out into the scrubs and battle my way through to the shower which I was so desparate for I thought I would put up with anything. How wrong I was. The showers looked more like the de-lousing section prisons have and given the naked brain doners inside flicking lit cigarettes at each other I spun on a sixpence and headed straight back to my room. Then it it hit me... "what the FUCK am I doing in here?" I wondered, "Get out of here and find a hotel... with a shower... maybe AC and hopefully some Internet access... And some of this little chocolates and...". So I packed my bag and hotfooted it down the stairs to the guy at reception who almost certainly signed in these losers in the first place. I threw the key at him and said "I'm leaving. Give me my money back now, this place is a complete disgrace and shouldn't be allowed to operate". In a doubtless well rehearsed manner he offered me my dough and shrugged his shoulders saying "What can I do?". "not letting them in in the first place would be a start" I said in fluent angy-nese whilst snatching my cash from his shaking hand. "I'm going to write about this place on every forum I can find (only 2 so far but I haven't finished yet :-) and tell people they'd be better off getting sent down than stay here", and with a cold long stare I stormed out onto the pavement, alone, at 7PM with nowhere to sleep, never mind slop out.

The sad part about bad experiences like this is that your natural reaction is to blame the city or country itself and as such I decided that if I couldn't find a room for the night in half an hour I would head to the station and go to Vienna. I walked past the Raddison SAS and considered the oppulence for a moment but at the likely £150 a night price tag I very wisely walked on and into the Old City Hotel. Four flights of stairs later I found a sign saying reception on next floor and with my last ounce or energy I lugged my bags up to the top to discover a young girl wallowing in the hotels success as they were packed to the rafters! "You might want to say that downstairs" I thought but as there was no need to take out my anger on anyone else I smiled and thanked her before heading back out onto the street. "One more corner and I'm getting a cab" I reasoned but as luck would have it I saw a sign for the Michalska Brana Hotel & Restaurant and jumped through the door almost soaked from my mad march across town. "Do you have any rooms?" I asked the smiling young girl and gentleman at the reception. "Yes, we have 1 single left" came the music, "I'll take it!... How much is it?", "€95 a night with ensuite, breakfast and free Internet". I held off on inquiring about the chocolates and dropped my bags to the floor whilst handing them my passport to begin the check in. "The room's quite small, would you like to see it first?" said the man rather nervously. "It CANNOT be any worse than where I've just run away from so I'm sure it will be fine" I said with utter sincerity. After getting my key I got to my room and almost fell to my knees to thank Darwin for what I saw! It was gorgeous and I jumped in the shower practically laughing with sheer joy.

after a wonderful cool nights sleep I awoke to breakfast in bed and immediately asked to extend my stay for another night, the thought of having to check out before any recuparation from the last 6 weeks had taken place seemed pointless and in any case, I had a stack of stuff to do in my increasingly busy online world. After updating my ever growing collection of 'Web 2.0' sites I set out to satisfy that curious need of mine that those of you who know me can can relate to, I went to go and see a bridge! Novi Most is possibly one of the most curious bridges, or indeed any structure, that has ever been built. It's an odd combination of a single sided cable stayed road bridge that includes on the top of the piers what can only be described as, and in fact IS described as, a UFO. Fortunately for me, the 70's materials had not lasted long and so a complete refurbishment of the flying saucer itself had been completed less than 2 years ago and it was now replete with a seriously cool, and seriously expensive, bar and restaurant. Above the capsule or whatever you choose to call it is an outdoor observation deck allowing an excellent view of the city and it's legolike socialist housing areas. After a few snaps I headed back down to the bar for an extortionate, yet essential, Tanqueray & Tonic. "Would you like them mixed?" whispered the waitress? "Erm, er, well... yes please" came my somewhat hesitant response as I couldn't recall any other time when I've been asked for creative input on preparing what is arguably the world's most simple cocktail.

With dwindling enthusiasm for Twatislava as I had regretably come to know this rather dull city I headed back to my luxury hotel and streched out on the bed with a twix and watched various bits and pieces on one of the greatest inventions since television, YouTube! The cobbled streets, castles and stag partys drifted from my mind and for the first time in a long time, I was completely relaxed :-)