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Bratislava: Pondering Over the Long & Short of A City

It was a warm sunny Saturday when we arrived in Bratislava, capital of the
Slovak Republic. When I said I was going to Bratislava, friends say
Bra-what ? What a mouthful, they say. Poor little Bratislava, despite its
greater past as Pressburg, has always languished behind the shadows of other
Central European capitals such as Vienna, Prague and Budapest. For indeed
the Slovak nation has only existed firstly as the Great Moravian Empire more
than 1000 years ago (when it was in fact a confederation of tribes which
eventually became Czech and Slovak nations), then conquered by the
Hungarians who, after Budapest and the bulk of its lands were occupied by
the Turks in 1536, moved their capital to Bratislava, known as Pressburg
in German and Poszony in Hungarian. In fact, Bratislava was the Hungarian
capital for a much longer period than it was Slovak. The Hungarians were
then swallowed by the Hapsburg Austrians, regained their autonomy in the mid
19th Century, and then proceed to outdo the Austrians in oppressing their
minorities. Freedom came to the Slovaks only in 1919 with the collapse of
the Austro-Hungarian Empire, thereupon they joined the Czechs in that
longish looking pasta strip in the map of Central Europe called
Czechoslovakia. The duo didn't last for long, despite similarity in
their languages - virtual dialects of each other - plus their shared love
for dumplings and goulash soup (which in any case is a Hungarian
invention), the federation split in 1993, in what came to be known as the
Velvet Divorce - peaceful, straight forward and no frills. Eight years
later, Slovaks have discovered that 6 of their koruna is worth only 5 of the
Czech. Tells a lot of their economy, which is heavily burdened by old
rusting heavy industries, and unlike the Czech one, not blessed with a
vibrant tourism industry.

Barely 60 km from Vienna, Bratislava used to be sort of a suburb of Vienna.
A fast train and the simplification of border crossing would have meant a
no-brainer 30 minute commute between the two cities. However, there are
only 3 daily direct trains and most of the rest require a slow ride on a
rusty country railroad and a 20 minute stop at a dusty border town for a
train swap and a customs check, which implies a 1 ½ hour trip. Looking at
the crowd, there must be real demand for a faster alternative. I imagine
that Austria, which often promotes itself as the Gateway to investment in
Eastern Europe, would have tried harder to enhance direct road and rail links
with Bratislava. Think carefully and you would know the real reason - what
would happen if Bratislava really becomes a suburb of Vienna, with once
every quarter hour, half hour rail links with Vienna ? Plus cheap property,
low cost of living and no frills border crossings ? Every second Viennese
would want to live in Bratislava and commute to work in Vienna.
That would have cost the collapse of Vienna property prices and perhaps a
couple of Austrian mortgage banks! OK, should I go long on Bratislava
property and short on Vienna ones? Well, I suppose it all depends on
whether you believe EU will really expand eastwards.

We have a reservation with a strangely named hotel called Spirit, run by an
equally bizarre organisation called the Institute of Extraordinary Human
Abilities. The hotel was supposedly near the Railway Station but it seem to
be well-hidden by some David Copperfield tricks. We gave up and returned to
the Station, where we met Irina, a slightly plumish mid-30's lady, who's
offering single rooms for about US$6 each. We walked to her apartment,
which was located in a half-ruined block nearby. Six levels of staircases
up the desolate, derelict block, which appeared as though it just about
survived the Second World War and everybody decided to leave it untouched
as a war monument. We were shown the rooms, which were definitely much
better taken care of than the building overall, and yes, there's hot water.
Consider the deal was as good as done, given the price and that we weren't
about to spare more time of a short weekend trip to search for another
place.

We walked through the city centre, across the new town with its deserted
streets and shutters-down depressed commercial scene. The old town was
better, with youngsters and tourists in open air cafes. We strolled across
the narrow cobbled streets, having fantastic ice cream for about 20c along
the way. At the western end of the old town was St Martin's Cathedral,
where numerous Hungarian kings were crowned. A wedding was taking place in
the Cathedral, well synchronised with the noise of passing cars speeding
across the New Bridge, a gigantic structure topped with an UFO-like top
built in 1971 across the Danube. Two-thirds of the old town was destroyed
to build this architectural feat (according to Communist bureaucrats), or
irredeemable
architectural disaster, in the view of critics.

Uphill from here was Bratislava Castle, previously a military bastion of the
Hapsburgs and once home of the legendary St Stephen's Crown of Hungary,
whose bent Byzantine cross had once inspired adventurers, raiders,
pretenders to the throne, foreign invaders, freedom-fighters and
revolutionaries. Napoleon dropped by for tea too, signed the Treaty of
Pressburg at the Primate's Palace in the Old Town, then left, though not
before blowing up the Castle. The Castle was rebuilt during the communist
days - no wonder a British friend warned me that it's all fake - apparently
the Castle didn't quite exist when he visited Bratislava some years back.
We popped by the Archaeological Museum within the Castle, hoping to see
that famous Venus of
Moravia, an ancient sculpture declared by Slovak historians as some kind of
a mother goddess of the ancient peoples of this land. We have some
difficulty locating it, for it was really small, no bigger than a kit tat
box. Well, I guess this is the Slovak version of the Little Mermaid.

We returned to the Old Town, having a late lunch of goulash and assorted
meat, cheap cool Slovak beer and Turkish coffee. The Main Square is a good
people watching place. Slender model-like Slavic girls and gorgeous blond
boys enjoying the warm summer heat of this Danubian town. In an era of cold
capitalism and cyber-voyeurism, some of their compatriots made their way to
Van Nuys, CA, and achieved fame of a more dubious nature. Some others
found their way to Amsterdam and Soho, London, where they worked among
colleagues from Moldova, Ukraine, Albania and Bulgaria.

The Danube flows swiftly, and many riverboats bring tourists between Vienna
and Budapest. Bratislava, as usual, is underrated by guidebook writers and
to the less informed tourists on these boats, nothing more than a slightly
larger town in between the more well known capitals. Across the river are
multi-storied apartment blocks reaching up to the skies, looking more like
monumental Mesopotamian ziggurats than the ugly monstrous structures
described by many travel guide writers. I often wonder if these writers
would prefer the locals to live in quaint little old houses with primitive
plumbing systems and poor winter heating, so that the inhabitants become
live museum exhibits for tourists looking for exotic poverty in faraway
lands.

Dinner was at a nice Slovak restaurant in the Old Town, where a two course
meal and fine white wines cost only about US$8 per head. Slovak cuisine is
hearty and cheesy. The potato and cheese combination is somewhat heavy for
me but the fish soup was heavenly. But frankly, if you compare most
cuisines with English cuisine, the winner is almost clear cut.

We ended the evening with a bit of drama. We had to walk through six
flights of utter darkness before reaching the lofty heights of our
apartment. We found that the two single rooms with our Slovak landlady
promised actually meant two rickety beds formed from sofa in a single room.
Hot water bath means a quick 2 minutes of hot water and a sudden power
shutoff while I was still washing off the soap. I rinsed myself quickly,
got dressed and then confronted the landlady, who went on wailing about the
power costs and general poverty. Alas, so much for $6. I think I get
better deals elsewhere. If she's willing to double the price and provide
me with proper heating, I would have no problems whatsoever. She has a lot
to learn about making money from tourists.

Sunday was an easy day. An easy breakfast in the Main Square followed by a
nice stroll across the now familiar Old Town. We dropped by Tesco, the UK
supermarket chain that seems to have captured the imagination of Bratislava
residents. I have thought it might be a preserve of foreign expats but
found what look like a real player laughing its way to the bank. Here we
grabbed goodies such as packets of fruit juices of 20c each and cheap tubes
of toothpaste and assorted household products we are too busy to shop for
in London. Fully packed, we rushed to the Railway Station and before long
are on our way to Vienna. An easy afternoon in Vienna where we hopped by
the Hofsburg (Imperial Palace) and the Imperial Burial Vault with the
enormous and elaborately carved coffins of the Hapsburg emperors and
assorted royals, including figures like Maximilian Emperor of Mexico.
Well, like an old friend used to say, just look at such opulence and you
feel that these ostentatious royals ought to be shot. A relaxing tan in
the palace park, some apple struddels and Viennese pastries, before we make
our way to the airport.