Mahinda’s Little World

The annual Hattrick European Boozer, this time to Blartislava…way back at the end of May.

I managed to watch Hostel, the rather gruesome horror flick set in Bratislava*, the very night before leaving for a long weekend…in a hostel…in Bratislava. Oops. I’d been before though (with Josephine, in a former millennium and a former life) and it was pleasant enough.

* But actually filmed elsewhere, hence my confusion when not recognising any of the scenes on screen.

The hostel was good, the beer was both cheap and good, and it’s a lovely little city. Possibly not exciting enough for the full five days, but day trips to Vienna (ergh) and Devin Castle (stunning) helped.

We only had one dodgy bit, which was a run-in with some neo-Nazi-ish football hooligans in Sub Club (which otherwise promised to be a great little nightclub). Generally, us Brits really aren’t liked on the continent. So very different from my travels of ‘96 and ‘99

On the subject of differences, the place had changed so much in seven years. I hardly recognised it. We did find a great little restaurant where Josephine and I ate, many years ago, and I had a gorgeous steak stuffed with mushrooms, ham and cheese…but it was pretty much derelict.

Other memories include:

• "Cheap bar"
  The the first local-priced drinking establishment we found — only a few yards away from the expensive tourist traps.
• Club ’80s
  Oh yeah. Recommended by a waiter at Cheap Bar (who we thought was saying "Club Eddie’s"), this became something of a default, being a locals-ish cellar bar with dancefloor and a DJ amenable to suggestion. He was absolutely delighted when Pete and I requested Guns ‘n’ Roses, as were half the clientèle. Decent cheap cocktails, too.
• Big local bloke
  I can’t remember this guy’s name, but he was a relatively wealthy local who’d travelled a bit and got chatting with us in Club ’80s. Good lad, and gave us a few tips on what to see, which included…
• Slavin cemetery
  "Really close to your hostel" he said. Bloody miles away, more likely. This was the Russian war cemetery, on top of a hill a couple of miles out of the city centre — a tranquil and impressive monument, but nothing more. I was the only one who went, on an absolutely sweltering day.
• Old local graveyard
  On the way back from Slavin, I found this place. A hugely atmospheric rambling graveyard, full of stooped trees and mossy stonework. I proceeded to get lost in it, which was actually a pleasant experience.
• Pool hall
  Next door to our hostel was a little pool hall, situated in the cellars of the big apartment-type building. A couple of tables and a bar, all nicely chilled and therefore a prime place to hang out. It did have the slowest service in the world ever, though, with a waitress who seemed utterly unaware of how to pull a pint. We’re convinced the place was laundering money.
• Hostel
  Oh yes, the hostel. We were at the Downtown Backpacker’s Hostel, which was nice enough. Not the best I’ve stayed at, but nowhere near the worst. The staff were pretty friendly, especially Latzo…
• Latzo
  A strange but friendly (and very dry) chap, who seemed to take a shine to Dan, the smallest and fluffiest of our group. We made much mileage of this fact. I got on with the bloke, and chatted with him a fair bit over the weekend. So much so that he gave me a present of a bottle of local wine…which I drank with the lads that very night. I feel quite guilty about that.
• Poker
  On our last night there, a few of us ended up playing poker back at the hostel — and I won! A bit of beer money, but the drunken feeling of victory was far more significant! That’s when we drank Latzo’s wine. It was quite nice.
• Dark beer
  Oh yes. Why on Earth don’t we get more dark lager in Blighty? Just about every bar we visited had a pump for the stuff — I think I got one or two of the group on to the stuff, too.
• 1. Slovak Pub – website
  Strange name, great pub…but very very warm and stuffy and humid. HUGE place, and a bit of a student hangout — dirt cheap, tasty grub, all in interesting surroundings that could be a bit tourist trap-ish…but just aren’t. We’d have spent a lot more time there if it wasn’t so warm that weekend.
• Prasna Basta – website
  One of Latzo’s recommendations, and a very good one too. So good we ate there twice. The first time degenerated into an absinthe-fuelled monster of an evening
• Café Verne
  The last restaurant I’ll mention here, this was yet another recommendation from Latzo. A cheap hangout on one of the main squares, it was right in between expensive classy touristy joints…and served excellent food (I think there were three types of goulash, all great). I think we ate there three times. Also notable for an extremely perky waitress.
• The castle
  Don’t go there. It’s basically an underfunded art gallery of a museum. I’d forgotten all about it, and I therefore take the blame for letting our group spend time there. I should have known better.
• The Wireless Well
  For some reason, there was an old well in the middle of Old Town…that had wireless internet access. Handy for those with phones that could use it. Odd but good.
• Canadian girl and Louis (or however it’s spelt)
  I can’t remember her name, but we met a Canadian girl in the hostel, and Louis, a seasoned traveller who was hanging around with her. She was pretty lovely, and the object of some affections for a while. Louis, pronounced ‘Loo-ee’, was a grizzled old chap, with Hispanic roots, with a whole stack of tales — we kept bumping into him. I spent quite a while swapping travel stories with him, and realised that, well, my travels have actually been quite interesting.
• Samantha
  I left on my own, a few hours after the penultimate batch left and, when catching the bus to the station (and thence to the airport, via another bus), saw a couple of girls, one sporting a heavy pack, also leaving the hostel. Only one caught the bus, and we got chatting. She was from Delaware, just across the river from Philadelphia, where I’d been the previous week. We hung out together while waiting a few hours for our flights. More swapping of tales ensued. We should probably have swapped email addresses. Oh well.
• The trip home
  This is a story in itself. At one point I was expecting not to get home until 5.30am, with work the next day. As it worked out, I managed something like 3am. Phew.

…and nobody got sliced up. Which is definitely a good thing.

That’ll do for now. I have a couple of okay photos. Might put them on Facebook one of these days.