Life as a Nomad

So. In the past seven days, I've taken a boat, a train, two buses, and a taxi across national borders. Which is to say, my darling nomads were visiting from New York, so adventure was a must.


Part I: Throwing Rocks at Austria
Meg and Kristen came into Bratislava on Friday, so I took the bus from Nitra and wandered the city until they arrived. Incidentally, I met Tami and Manning, a very nice couple from Paris (by way of Philly) in a bagel shop, and after an interesting conversation about life abroad, www.hospitalityclub.org and Dracula's castle in Romania, discovered that Tami hails from Gardiner. So the inevitable conversation followed, and as it turns out, she grew up on the other side of the sky diving ranch. Small world.

When Meg's flight came in from New York, and Kristen's came in from Rome, we convened at the hotel for a while, flipped through guidebooks (though our company isn't exactly the tourist type) and decided on Indian food for dinner. Slovak Indian food, as it turns out, is quite tasty.

The next morning, we hopped a bus to Devin Castle, 30 minutes outside Bratislava, to play amid the ruins. The castle is located across the river from Austria - if the water were warmer, we could have swam across without a problem. As it was, a strong throw would land a rock across national borders.

And if it's that easy for a rock to land in Austria....what about the three of us?

"Viennese coffee is supposed to be wonderful," Meg said. "So let's go to Austria for a cup of coffee. You know, because we can."

Our first plan was to take a boat, because the river had inspired us and boats are neat. The necessary boat, however, was sold out for the day. So we began making elaborate schemes: We'd return to Nitra for the night, head back to Bratislava on Sunday morning, go to Vienna, and then come back on Sunday evening.

Complicated? Yes. Simpler alternative? Go to Vienna by bus, and take a boat for the return journey. Which is exactly what we did.

Vienna is home to astonishing architecture, all of it massive in scope and detail. We'd taken a subway from the bus station into town, and the first thing we saw as we emerged from underground was the enormous cathedral. Our initial tour of the city, on Saturday night, led us through the Ped Zone of the Old Town, all aglow with snazzy lighting and street performers. A Picasso exhibit happened to be passing through, so we spent Sunday morning in the gallery, looking at hundreds of colorful paintings from his last decade's work.


We then get a horse-and-buggy tour of town. The horses,
we noticed, wore either ear-tassles or leg-warmers. Ours were very cute and enjoyed nuzzling each other. And the tour of the city was lovely - we passed through the old town, in front of a carnival which had set up just outside of the gigantic state building, and the flower garden, where rumor has it someone actually is painting the roses red.

The three of us were scoping possibilities for lunch (This street vendor? That street vendor? What the hell is "curry-wurst"?) on the outskirts of town, waiting for our boat to dock, when we ran into fellow Fulbrighters Chuck and Susan. They had taken the same trip, more or less, arriving on Saturday by train.

Part II: 48 Hours in Slovakia
Got back to Slovakia, had another fabulous round of hot chocolate at that very evil cafe, and caught the bus to Nitra. Showed them the flat, the old town, pointed out the castle and the river. Had minor adventures in public transport, including a cab driver who swore Meg was Russian.

Not much happened here - I had class again on Monday, and Kristen and Meg had to return to Bratislava for their work meetings. K came to school with me on Monday morning, before her bus, and sat in on one of the quieter classes.

Part III: Getting to Poland - Easier Said than Done

The plan was to meet at the train station on Tuesday for a 14:45 train to Krakow, with stops in one Slovak town, one Czech town, and one Polish town. That should have told us things would go awry.

It's just me and Kristen at this point; Meg's taken a plane from Bratislava to Poland earlier in the day. She has her Europass East and a little syllabus with it; I have an official ticket from the train station. Things are going smoothly, we're enjoying the countryside landscapes, and then suddenly we're stranded in Nowheresville, Czech Republic, a town with no connecting trains and no bus station.

The information desk tells us that the train we were supposed to take left 3 hours ago. Splendid. It's 18:15. The next train is at 1:00. Also splendid. And our cell phones, as we've only now discovered, don't work at all in foreign countries.

Aaaaand this is the adventure that no foreign travel is complete without. We have five hours before any possibility of Poland, and then another five hours on the train to get there.

We decide, for lack of better things to do, that we should explore this quaint Eastern European town. And then I see it: a row of yellow-topped taxis. I start laughing.

"Hey Kristen? How crazy would it be if we took a taxi to Krakow?"

We asked the driver for an estimate, which was surprisingly reasonable, given the 5-hour journey ahead of us. (Also, Kristen had work meetings in the morning, and getting in at 6 am after a series of connecting trains which may or may not have existed didn't sound like the best plan). So we grab our stuff, duck into a bankomat, and head for Poland in a Skoda with a driver who may easily never have been there before.

That last statement doesn't dawn on us until the cab starts pulling over to ask pedestrians (of which there were many, fortunately) "Which way to Krakow?" At this point, we're sure we're going to end up in Minsk. The driver does this a few times, turns around a few times, and stops for a hitchhiker near the Polish border (who was not heading in our direction, but rather for the pub). And eventually, we make it to our hotel. Never mind the castle on a cliff above us, we were very happy to have made it intact and only slightly behind schedule.

"You're late," was our greeting from M. "We did a silly thing...." we replied.


Part IV: Poets, Castles, and Airports
Krakow was my favorite of the cities on our rockstar tour of Central/Eastern Europe, though all of them were magnificent. Didn't find any Jancowfskis (would have been my grandfather's relatives), but we did have coffee with a brillant poet and lovely person, Adam Z.

And we did the castle, because castles had become something of a motif in our travels thus far. It's an intellectual city, so there's not as much commerical salesy stuff as in, say, Vienna.

Instead, you have street musicians, art vendors, a giant severed head (?), and the central market, where you can buy handmade chess sets and inexpensive Baltic amber.

There's also, apparently, a Middle Earth pub. (I thought of my P2 ladies and took a picture.) Didn't go in, but liked the fact that Tolkein has a presence in Krakow. (I knew I liked this city for a reason!) We dined one night in a place that looked like Medieval Times – The Polish Installment, where everyone was in costume and we felt rather out of place for not having slain a dragon or worn our corsets. We didn't go to Auschwitz - too bleak for short time in the country, and we didn't have enough free slots in our days to travel there anyhow - but tried to go to the salt mines, which were supposed to be incredible. Didn't make it there either, but it's good to save something for next time.


So, on Thursday night, with my friends slated to leave for Prague the next morning, I still hadn't booked a trip home. Trains were seeming more and more dubious, except for the Eurail express which cost as much as a plane ticket to Prague. That decided it. Prague won. I'd catch a bus from Prague to BA on Saturday morning and make it back to Nitra in time for Betsy and Mark's gathering that night.


Part V: Czech Us Out
And then we're in Prague! M and K had more meetings that morning, so we dropped our things off at the hotel, they scurried off to their work things, and I headed down the hill toward the Charles Bridge.

Prague is characterized by terra-cotta roofs, struedel stands, sloping hill sidewalks, and a stunning landscape. (Also blacklight theatre and marionettes, for some unknown reason - they were doing Don Giovanni and CATS while we were there. Yes, like a little muppetty rave. We didn't go.)

The bridge is the main location for artisans and their wares, but as I walked across, it was early enough that many were just setting up their stands. A descent into old town led me to another castle and cathedral, but I didn't really explore those until later.

We met for lunch, on a mission for dumplings. And dumplings we found – in a little place decorated with bizarre murals and metal hands on sticks. I ordered something vegetarian, in fact the only vegetarian dumpling, which turned out to be potato and Bisquick exterior with hot plum and fig centres, smothered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. (Note: Did not order this off the dessert menu!)

And then the girls were off to another meeting, which meant I went down the hill again to play in Prague. Met again in an hour. K locked herself in the hotel room to finish a paper; M and I went sightseeing. We saw the castle’s main square, as well as the Astronomical Clock (quite funny to be there on the hour, when the cobblestone path outside the clock fills with people craning their necks upward, positioning cameras for the display when the hour strikes).

After a brief snack interlude – street vendors this time, much better than our lunch – we headed for the Jewish quarter, which was very spiffy and rather haunting. Because it didn’t occur to us that it was nearing sundown on a Friday (and thus, everything would close), we went into the ticket office and gift shop to try to get into one of the museums. That didn’t happen, but I spotted the charm – something like a hand, with Hebrew embossed on its palm, and all fingers connecting to those adjacent – that my grandmother always wore around her neck. I never knew it was a Jewish thing. When asked, the sales clerk told me it was a symbol of good luck.

We did dinner at a place that let us sign the walls, and so K designed a heiroglyph with our initials and the Gucci Nomad tag. A fitting way to end the trip.

But that’s not all! The next morning, while K was asleep, M and I went to the Museum of Communism before I had to be at the bus station. (All of Prague is littered with billboards with the image of a nesting doll with fangs, and this museum’s logo.)

The place, I should mention, is ironically nestled between a McDonalds and a casino. The museum was neat, if not eerie, and we emerged with – no joke – communist underwear sets.

Getting back was another adventure, as the bus I wanted to take was sold out. As was the next bus, and the next bus. So all hope of getting back to Nitra for Mark and Betsy’s party was quickly diminishing, and I had no way of calling them to let them know. (Again - sorry guys!)

Finally, at 16:30, there was a bus to Bratislava available, then an hour later one to Nitra. And so the wonderful journey came to a close, I returned to my flat, and now life goes on as usual in the wake of our absurd international adventures.