M-whY

My connection was just on the other side of the platform. On board, guys came around to check passports. I knew we were scheduled to arrive around 5:50am. Whether Bratislava was the terminus though, I wasn't as sure. Not that it really mattered. The beauty of having nowhere to be is if I miss my stop, I can just get off at the next one that suits me. At quarter til, we pulled into a station. I peered out the window, hoping to find the station name posted somewhere. "Vychod" read a large sign. One more stop, I thought, and sat back down. Then the lights went out. Confused, I looked into the other compartments, and realized I was the only one left on board. Oh, I guess this is me...

Later, I learned "Vychod" was Slovak for "Exit". Snow dandruff accumulated on my shoulders as I stood under the streetlights waiting for a bus. Watching the sky gradually brighten was calmingly peaceful. Number 93 came and took me two stops to Downtown Backpackers.

"Sorry, unless you have a reservation, we're full for tonight."

"What?!" Of course I don't have a reservation. Off the top of my head, I can only think of two times in this whole trip I've booked ahead. "That sucks..."

They were the only hostel I knew of in town. The tourist information center, which could've helped with accomodation, wouldn't open for another four hours, making it suck twice as hard. Well, I'll just walk around for a bit and hopefully I'll find something, I thought. Worst case scenario, I return to the train station and pick a different city.

It's a good thing I pack light, because I ended up doing a lot of walking. I cut across Old Town to the Danube, followed the river for a bit, then walked through Old Town again. I was prepared to splurge, but not at places like the Carlton which was charging upwards of 160 euros a night. I was beginning to get tired of looking, when I spotted a place near Michael's Tower. A single room cost 1800 Slovakian crowns, approximately US$60. It's not cheap, but a splurge is a splurge, so trudged through the doors and coughed up the money. I wasn't allowed to check in until 1:30, but thankfully, they'd store my bag for me.

With not as heavy a load on my back, I went out to orient myself further. Not many people were up at this hour; The town square was vacant, as was the lot in front of the National Theatre. Being sunday probably had something to do with it. The sound of a violin floated through the air; I traced the music to a guy working for tips. I put a few coins in his cup, then stood back and listened to him play.

Across the street, I caught sight of a guy that looked familiar. He had noticed me too, and we stared at each other before closing the gap and introducing ourselves.

"Didn't I see you a couple days ago on the Wielicza Salt Mines tour?"

Jason, an Australian, had arrived in Bratislava a day earlier. He had found Bratislava's other hostel with the help of a brochure picked up in Krakow. Located in an obscure street away from Old Town, I probably never would've found it on my own.

"It's full anyways," he told me. "The beds are all taken by some guys here on a stag party."

That's probably why the hostel I had gone to was full too. Apparently, it's a common thing for a guys from the UK to gather up a bunch of friends and have a drinking party in another country. Plane tickets cost as little as one British pound plus taxes. I don't think much of these types. You hear them in the street at 1:00am causing disturbances and acting like idiots, and now they've affected me personally by taking all the cheap beds. Jason agreed, and on this common bond, we set off to see the rest of town.

"I take a lot of pictures", I warned him, and proceeded to demonstrate my point by taking photos of empty streets and old fortifications. We headed up the hill to the Bratislava Castle, the interior of which housed the Historical Museum. In my book, museums are graded based on two important criteria: Exhibits and size. There's nothing more monotonous than looking at antique urn after antique urn - time spent waiting for a train is more exciting. And the museum has to be small enough to fit within my attention span. Too many exhibits, and my mind begins to drift.

The Historical Museum gets a C+. I found the hall displaying Slovakian wedding customs unique, and the mock wedding feast looked appetizing, but this judge didn't give high marks for size. I was bored about half an hour in. We climbed the castle ramparts, where advantageous views were to be had. Windows framed clashing scenes: Drab, communist concrete jungles in one and quaint, maroon roofed houses in another. Seeing this contrast was worth the price of admission itself... Okay, I'll up the grade to a B-.

We passed through the museum cafe on the way out.

"Hey, look. You can buy a Picasso for 755 euros!"

"If only I wasn't paying so much for my hotel..."

Jason wasn't in the market for reprints either. He was actually hurting for money more than I. His ATM card had expired, and he had only US$20 worth of cash (plus a credit card) that had to last him three more days until his new one would arrive at the post office. To save money, we ate some cheap pizza across from the supermarket.

"I think we've seen pretty much everything," was the conclusion after we had flipped through our guides, and we agreed to make a trip out to the country tomorrow. We couldn't agree on how to reach the train station though.

"The trams are this way," he suggested.

"The bus stop is that way," I countered. We ended up going by foot. Once there, we purchased tickets for the next morning and agreed to meet in front of schedule board 20 minutes before departure. He returned to his hostel, I went to see what kind of accomodation US$60 bought: A pleasantly furnished room all to myself. All things considered, it's not a bad place to end up!

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!