May 20, 2024
My first train ride in a long time took me across the nation, around snow-capped mountain ranges, fields of vibrant yellow rapeseed, and into the multicultural city of Bratislava. It couldn’t be more accurate that Bratislava’s historic Slovak name, “city of countless spires and trams,” describes it. A multiplicity of architectural masterpieces that reach the sky have been produced during centuries of constantly shifting rule, conquests, and colonisations. In contrast, the trams constitute a continual threat to pedestrians, all fitted with bull bars that allow them to smash through unwary shoppers and those preoccupied with their phones. The electric tram cables wreak havoc with photography endeavours, as wires are consistently visible in all but the most expertly composed shots. Under the shadow of Bratislava Castle, St. Martin’s Cathedral is located at the western edge of the mediaeval city centre. Given that a massive highway veers dangerously close to the cloisters, I have no doubt that the town planners were not Christians. I paid to creep into the crypt and then up to the organ’s gallery, which was surprisingly large considering the cold weather. Though I’m sure that wasn’t its original purpose, Michael’s Gate is the only city gate remaining from the mediaeval fortifications. It is a strong boundary between the regular part of town and the expensive, substandard tourist restaurants and souvenir shops. On the other hand, the Hungarian-Secessionist Catholic Church of St. Elizabeth, commonly referred to as Blue Church, is situated in the eastern section of the Old Town and is isolated from the masses. It’s delicate and demure, and the subdued tones give the impression that it’s a skillfully made cake covered with icing. The Primates Palace was the next stop. I was expecting to see waist-coated chimps wearing bowler hats, grinning toothily as they poured each other tea. Rather, I was shown one of Slovakia’s most exquisite buildings, which houses The Hall of Mirrors, the site of the signing of the Treaty of Bratislava between France and Austria, five salons decorated with antique furniture and named after the colours of the walls: green, brown, blue, red, and gold, and a rare collection of 17th-century English tapestries. I did fancy a cuppa though. Up the city’s most iconic yet modern edifice, you can get the best views of the town and truly appreciate its steepled majesty. With a line of sight extending up to 100 kilometres, the UFO Tower, which has an uncanny resemblance to the alien crafts in War of the Worlds, provides breathtaking panoramic views 95 metres above the Danube. In 45 seconds, an elevator whisks you up inside one of the angled stanchions. From there, you walk three stories to the open-air observation deck, where the views are breathtaking, and you can gaze imperiously over Bratislava. However, I believe that Strauss’ “The Blue Danube Waltz” should actually be called “The Murky Brown Danube” per the Trade Description Act. I decided to head inside and take in the views from their acclaimed restaurant for a bit longer. We know the acronym for UFO: Unidentified Flying Oh-my-god-how-much-for-an-Americano ?!!?! But don’t ask the price if you can’t afford it. I had been warned, and hadn’t. The only thing left to do was investigate the food scene in further detail. I had to have another Bryndzové halušky, which I ate with a creamy garlic soup in a loaf of bread. It would be remiss not to devour a bratwurst in Bratislava since I’ve eaten hamburgers in Hamburg, frankfurters in Frankfurt, and Danish pastries in Denmark. I am trying to remember what I ate in Muffington. I proceeded to a microbrewery to enjoy a glass of their finest Monastery Dark and a wurst. To be continued.
