Killer B’s

Killer B’s-

When mentally preparing my euro trip the intention was to get to Vienna then travel by train west to Geneva through the Austrian and Swiss Alps, taking in the idyllic alpine scenery and stopping to snowboard a few times along the way. Of course I booked as little as possible in advance giving myself the freedom to audible as I saw fit. Upon landing in Vienna I had a 12 day window to follow the breeze before having to be in Geneva where I will be meeting my friend Matt and heading to Chamonix, France from there. Since my knee has been acting up I wanted to give it a break from the slopes before getting to Chamonix where I would have a full week of winter activities ahead, igniting my change in plans.

On the message board in my Vienna hostel a posting for a suggested day trip to Bratislava, Slovakia caught my eye. Of all the things on my European wish list Bratislava wasn’t a blip on the radar, but the nearby Budapest, Hungary was. If I did decide to go to to these places traveling by train through the alps started to make less sense so I allowed by mind to wander further. From Budapest I could fly into Berlin, which has been very high on my wish list for a long time, hang there a few days then another flight to get to Geneva in time to meet Matt. I checked my flight options and from Budapest the cheapest flight gave me a 27 hour layover in yet another place I had high hopes for, Brussels, Belgium. The plan started to look very attractive on paper, but in order to make these destinations I would be abandoning 3 of my most sacred travel rules; (A) stay away from big cites because the real treasures are found rurally (2) take things slow and don’t try to squeeze in too much in short periods and (C) avoid airports and travel overland whenever possible. I made the decision to go against these principles and pulled the trigger. After 3 days in the enchanting city of Vienna I took the train to Bratislava.

As soon as I arrived in Bratislava and made my way through the old town quarter I was in love. The narrow cobblestone streets, ancient ruins and Disneyland like architectural hodgepodge has endless charm.

After checking in I went to check out my first ever castle (neat but kinda boring) then get my local grub on (national Slovak dish is these small potato pasta nugget things, smothered with sheep cheese and topped with bacon). I took the recommended free walking tour of the city which was interesting and insightful, but best part was that I was joined by only 1 other person, a solo female traveler from Germany named Svea. Our guide told us her normal group size is in the 15-20 range and as many as 60, so for there to just be 2 of us we essentially got a private tour for free. [Fun fact: on the Slovakian Easter Monday tradition calls for the men in the family to dump buckets of water on the women and whip them repeatedly with a willow branch]… Come to find out my walking tour partner, Svea, had the same plan of going from Bratislava to Budapest and this is how travel companion connections are formed. Svea and I teamed up, bought a bus ticket, and the next day were in Hungary’s beautiful capital city.

Prior to getting to Bratislava, Svea was in Prague where she met a guy from Mexico named Emilio. From time we met till time we parted I referred to him by yelling out his name like they do in Night at the Roxbury “EMMIILLIIOO!”. Emilio took a different route but got to Budapest at the same time. We booked a hostel and tackled the next 3 days together. Since arriving from the bus station Svea took reins of the navigation duties which Emmiilliioo and I were more than happy to relinquish to her. With map in one hand and active phone with GPS in the other she always got us on the right tram, train or bus. As small of a thing as that sounds it was actually a welcomed relief to be able to let my guard down and go with the flow for a change, which made up for the minor annoyances of the compromise associated with group travel. We did a few tours, tried a few different recipes of the famous Hungarian goulash and visited Budapest’s most popular bathhouse.

At night our trio connected with additional solo travelers from our dorm room to form the UN summit of USA, Germany, Mexico, Argentina, The Netherlands and Scotland. The nightlife in Budapest was surprisingly very cool and an eclectic bar called Szimpla made its way into my top 5 bars in the world list. We visited the place twice, including our last night together when we closed the place down at 5am. Not a great idea with an early wake up call for a morning flight. Our trio split up as I headed for the airport.

I slept (30 minutes) on the plane and when I made my way through Brussels airport I easily picked up a prevalent accent. Although I hadn’t previously known, I quickly realized what the Belgium national language was; French. I had a reflex physiological reaction and was immediately put on guard prepared for the worst. My first interaction was with the hostel receptionist who lived up to my preconceived stereotypes of this accent by being a dick. After checking in I asked him for a map and some suggestions. He pointed to a table in the corner where the maps were and said they have suggestions inside. In my head I told him what he could go do to himself, dropped off by bag and away I went. 2 hours later I found it completely and totally fascinating how lost I got myself. Earlier I said Bratislava wasn’t on my radar. That was a metaphor. In Brussels I was LITERALLY off the map. I asked someone for directions (a girl who was about 13) and showed her my map to point out our location. She unfolded the map, examined it for a few seconds then held up her hand about 6 inches past the upper left of it saying we were somewhere over in this general area. She pointed in the direction I needed to go and away I went (again). Another hour and I’m starting to get hungry and in search of 1 of 2 things. Belgian waffles or Brussels sprouts. I go into a restaurant to ask if they have a menu in English and the waiter, who was pleasant, said they didn’t, but was happy to translate it for me, I asked for Brussels sprouts and he said unfortunately not. I decided to go elsewhere, but figured I’d ask him for an update on my map location because I still wasn’t recognizing any street signs. He unfolded the map, examined it a few seconds and said this map doesn’t even show our location. He gestured with his hand about 6 inches below the map and said we are somewhere in this general area. He pointed to the direction I need I go and away I went (again). As I’m walking, now with a purpose, I get stopped by a Frenchman who asks ME for directions in French. I shook my head and apologized for only speaking English and although I knew he wouldn’t understand me I told him I’m not the guy to ask right now anyway. At this point I’m not sure if I should be wishing Svea was there with her GPS to lead the way or if allowing her to do that in Budapest threw me off my game a bit (I blamed her for me being lost). Finally I get to the area of town I was looking for and now had to search out some food. I asked someone who looked like they might know and he goes into a full explanation. For about 2 minutes I listen to him give me what sounds like the most perfectly detailed description of where to find the worlds best waffles, but, although I asked him in English, his entire explanation was in French. I was was trying to give him the squinted eye body language that says I have no idea what the hell you’re saying, but to no avail. I let him finish then went in the direction of his 4 outstretched fingers, walked around the corner and figured out the rest on my own. [fun fact: Brussels sprouts exist, but they aren’t a “thing” there really. Instead everyone was pushing French fries all over the place and they passionately maintain that THEY are the ones to invent them and they should be called Belgium Fries]. During my wandering every person I encountered completely contradicted the poor attitude and shortness of the hostel receptionist and in the end I found the people of Brussels to be some of the friendliest I’ve met.

By the time I make it to Berlin my head is spinning. My 4th city, in 4 different countries, with 4 different languages, 4 different cultures, and 4 different metro systems all in 6 days. To confuse things even more, when thinking back on the week, I had to organize my thoughts by juggle the B’s (Bratislava, Budapest, Brussels, Berlin). In Berlin I made plans to meet up with an old friend from Vegas, MJ, who relocated to raise a family in Prague. It was great catching up with him and seeing the ways his living in the Czech Republic has shaped his priorities and approach to raising his daughter. Also, as has been the case with friends Tara in Bali and The Dolpin in Tanzania, spending time with someone that can relate to the insanity we went through in the Vegas nightclub industry brings things back home a bit and can be refreshing on the road. We walked around a lot and explored the unique metropolis. The allure of Berlin is the eclectic mix of its urban areas. In an abandoned and sprawling factory neighborhood we stumble upon the most randomly sewn together tapestry of business I’ve ever seen; A dive bar playing German folk and funk, an expansive rock wall gym, vegan burrito restaurant playing Wu Tang, indoor skate park, an outdoor cross fit area where people are working out at 10pm just outside the back door of a massive electro warehouse club, and the entire area is covered with interesting and beautiful graffiti art. This graffiti art can be found in pockets all over the entire city. One huge 4 story tall mural catches my eye. It’s a black and white image of a man wearing bright gold watches on both wrist that are chained together like shackles. I loved the symbolism and walked around the corner to get a clear shot for a picture. Where the gate opens we peak around the corner that unveiled a massive gypsy squatter camp which couldn’t have been more unsettling and typical of what you would picture. Tents sprinkled around, a few tepees propped up, random piles of trash all over the place, a few stray dogs walking around, some derelict caravans that hadn’t been moved in 20 years and sitting directly underneath the mural wall was a small group of people sitting on torn couches that circled a few trash can fires, looking as unsavory as unsavory characters get. MJ and I both stood there for a second, jaws open in awe of the spectacle. I wanted to walk inside to get a picture that could somewhat capture the scene, but outside that gate was as far as any reasonable person, without a wish of disappearing forever, would go.

We couldn’t help but notice that this place was on the “other” side of the wall. The whole feel was different and very palpable once we crossed over the old dividing line. Seeing the remnants of the Berlin Wall was something that struck a chord. I will always remember as a kid watching the destruction of the wall on TV and seeing the headlines as the 1st major international event of my lifetime. As a 10 year old it was something that helped me understand how vast and diverse the world is, but how we are, at the same time, united as one people. Visiting these amazing cities this week (Along with Zurich and Vienna), as much of a whirlwind as it’s been, has brought this concept home. One love!

Bob