And so to Slovakia. [Blog post, by me] #projectBrno
(Or, the Slovakian for "beer" is "Hodor!")
Letisko M. R. Štefánik -- the airport -- is big, bright and shiny and modern. Rather appealing. Bratislava is only about the same size as Brno -- under half a million inhabitants -- but it's a capital city and the difference shows in the airport. I took some Euros out from a handy ATM, cursing myself for failing to remember to bring my tiny hoard of them with me. A trip that covers three countries and three currencies needs more fiduciary planning than I gave it.
I connected my phone to the free Wifi and asked Google Maps for a route into the main station. Walk, it said unhelpfully. It'll only take an hour.
Little did I know that, as part of its master plan for incrementally crippling its most popular web properties, Google has revamped its Maps service with a new, shiny, simplified but far inferior user interface, just as it has done with Gmail. This includes removing its ability to route-plan via public transport in Brno -- and, I am guessing, Bratislava too. This is intensely aggravating, as that was something I used very heavily to navigate Brno's cheap, fast, frequent but confusingly intricate tram system.
So I went outside and had a look around. After a few minutes, I found the bus to Hlavna Stanica (rather than the Czech Hlavni Nadrazi)... but it was parked up and abandoned. I sat down to wait.
After ten minutes or so, the driver appeared, boarded -- and drove off. This was inauspicious, I thought. He stopped at the other end of the carpark, where there were some waiting passengers. I ran like hell, pushing my trolley, and leapt on just after the last boarding passenger. I went to the driver, bid him "dobry den" and asked if he spoke English.
"Ne," he grunted in reply. That's a no.
The woman behind me asked the equivalent question in German.
"Ne," he replied again, "something something something something ne Anglicky, something ne Nemecky, something something Slovensky." I freely translate this as "no, I don't bloody well speak English or German or anything else, only Slovakian." Unhelpful.
He pointed at the ticket machines on the car-park pavement. No way to buy a ticket from him, sealed in his glass booth, safe from those nasty grubby foreigners. And with that, he shut the doors and made to pull away, leaving my trolley and luggage behind.
Some shouting and pounding angrily on the door established communication of a sort and I leapt off again, to inspect these ticket machines. They're the same simple, electromechanical ones that stole a Kč 20 coin from me in Prague last time -- very 1970s, no cards, no notes, no help. And I had €40 in notes, nothing else.
But the bus was going, and since it was a Sunday and I'd already been here 45min or more, they clearly were not very frequent. So I got back on, with baggage this time.
And, of course, one stop before the station, ticket inspectors get on. The first one didn't speak English either, but his colleague did, and fined me €50 for not having a ticket. That, they can take wirelessly from your debit card, no problem.
I complained that the driver spoke no English. "We have over 1,000 drivers in Bratislava. They cannot all speak English," he replied. Well, excuse the hell out of me, but I think that the route to and from the bloody airport to the railway station is something of a priority for linguistic ability. People enter and leave the country by the airport and railway station, and most of the world doesn't speak Slovakian.
I also complained that I tried to pay but the ticket machines did not take notes. "You could have got some change in the airport," he said. Well, yes, I could, but I shouldn't have to. It is unreasonable to expect people just off an international flight -- and since Slovakia isn't very big, the airport only has international flights -- to have change on them.
A thoroughly unwelcoming start to my brief sojourn in Slovakia.
At the station, I bought a ticket to Brno. €9.80: not too bad. This is on the Czech national railway, Česky Drahy. Compare with the Kč 210 ticket from Prague to Brno from the same company -- about three times the distance, but it costs €7.65. This pattern was repeated; a beer was €1.90, a small meal was €15 and a couple of coffees €2-€3 each. That's significantly more than in Czechia. I guess there's a reason why the Czech government has been fighting shy of adopting the Euro, which has apparently been delayed two or three times now. Currently it's scheduled for 2020 but the locals tell me it won't happen.
Now, the Czech Republic has more industry and a stronger economy than the Slovak Republic, which has little industry. Some internationally-known companies such as Báťa and Škoda are Czech; Slovakia has no analogues, although it does have some tech multinational presence, such as Hewlett-Packard.
However, meagre as my economics knowledge is, I believe that small countries with weak economies tend to suffer inflation when they adopt the Euro. One of the delights of the Czech Republic is how cheap most things are. If they join the Eurozone, that will end.
Having been stung, or burned, or both, by Bratislava public transport once, I stashed my suitcases in Left Luggage and walked into the city centre. It's not as pretty as Brno, let alone Prague. Rats scuttled through the bushes by the bush shelters on the approach to the train station, and many buildings are in dire need of renovation. There's also been a nasty case of planning blight and a lot of ugly modern structures, destroying the texture of the old town - barely a single block is untouched. I had a pleasant Asian fusion meal by the river -- not on the riverside, as that's a big multilane road. I walked back across the old town to the highest-rated microbrewery on Google, another 20min hike.
It was shut.
I decided that on balance, I'd had enough of Bratislava. I would not take the last, 11PM train, which got in really late -- past midnight. I'd take the 8PM one. I walked back to the station, but passed an open bar, and I had an hour or more to kill yet. I went in. A big bald waiter came up and addressed me in Slovakian.
I asked if he spoke English. He just looked confused -- no yes, no no, just more Slovakian. I asked if I could just have a beer.
"Beer?"
"Yes, beer. Can I just have beer? No food?"
"Beer!"
"OK... What beers do you have?"
"Beer!"
He went off, I thought to get a menu. Noooooooo. He came back and presented me with a tankard of lager.
"What is this?"
"Beer!"
"Yes, but what beer?"
Now he was lost, and went and summoned an Anglophone colleague.
"Yes, sir, is there a problem?"
"Well, yes, I asked your colleague what beers you have, and he gave me this."
"It's beer. He just gave you the best one we have."
"OK, but what is it?"
"Oh! It's Pilsner Urquell."
"But I live in the Czech Republic. I wanted to try a Slovak beer."
"Oh. Well, we only have one, and it's a dark beer."
"I like dark beer."
"Ah. Sorry."
So I drank my Bohemian lager in the Slovak capital, and gave her €2 for my €1.90 pint. Change was not forthcoming. I left.
Back at the station, the train was running late. At least 15 minutes late. And while the station abounds in kiosks for snacks and soft drinks, no beer. So I went to the café next door, whose Wifi I'd already been nicking, and bought a couple of cans of Slovakian lager for about €3 and used their loo. Returning, the train now had a platform, at least, so I retrieved my luggage and got on.
I found myself sharing with a charming local who lived in Brno, Ivana, who despite being hungover, exclaimed in delight when I pulled a tinny out of my bag, as that meant she could open her can too. I even managed to follow the interchange between her and the conductor:
"Dobry den. Jizdenky, prosim."
"Dobry den?" (With a look at her watch.) "Dobry večer!"
"Dobrá, dobre odpoledne?"
Which I may have got wrong, but goes something like...
"Good day! Tickets, please."
"Good day? Good evening!"
"OK, good afternoon?"
Some of it is starting to make a tiny bit of sense, at least...
So, yeah, Slovakia, or at least its capital. Not very friendly or helpful and compared to Czechia it ranges from 50% more expensive to one hell of a lot more. Not struck, really.
Letisko M. R. Štefánik -- the airport -- is big, bright and shiny and modern. Rather appealing. Bratislava is only about the same size as Brno -- under half a million inhabitants -- but it's a capital city and the difference shows in the airport. I took some Euros out from a handy ATM, cursing myself for failing to remember to bring my tiny hoard of them with me. A trip that covers three countries and three currencies needs more fiduciary planning than I gave it.
I connected my phone to the free Wifi and asked Google Maps for a route into the main station. Walk, it said unhelpfully. It'll only take an hour.
Little did I know that, as part of its master plan for incrementally crippling its most popular web properties, Google has revamped its Maps service with a new, shiny, simplified but far inferior user interface, just as it has done with Gmail. This includes removing its ability to route-plan via public transport in Brno -- and, I am guessing, Bratislava too. This is intensely aggravating, as that was something I used very heavily to navigate Brno's cheap, fast, frequent but confusingly intricate tram system.
So I went outside and had a look around. After a few minutes, I found the bus to Hlavna Stanica (rather than the Czech Hlavni Nadrazi)... but it was parked up and abandoned. I sat down to wait.
After ten minutes or so, the driver appeared, boarded -- and drove off. This was inauspicious, I thought. He stopped at the other end of the carpark, where there were some waiting passengers. I ran like hell, pushing my trolley, and leapt on just after the last boarding passenger. I went to the driver, bid him "dobry den" and asked if he spoke English.
"Ne," he grunted in reply. That's a no.
The woman behind me asked the equivalent question in German.
"Ne," he replied again, "something something something something ne Anglicky, something ne Nemecky, something something Slovensky." I freely translate this as "no, I don't bloody well speak English or German or anything else, only Slovakian." Unhelpful.
He pointed at the ticket machines on the car-park pavement. No way to buy a ticket from him, sealed in his glass booth, safe from those nasty grubby foreigners. And with that, he shut the doors and made to pull away, leaving my trolley and luggage behind.
Some shouting and pounding angrily on the door established communication of a sort and I leapt off again, to inspect these ticket machines. They're the same simple, electromechanical ones that stole a Kč 20 coin from me in Prague last time -- very 1970s, no cards, no notes, no help. And I had €40 in notes, nothing else.
But the bus was going, and since it was a Sunday and I'd already been here 45min or more, they clearly were not very frequent. So I got back on, with baggage this time.
And, of course, one stop before the station, ticket inspectors get on. The first one didn't speak English either, but his colleague did, and fined me €50 for not having a ticket. That, they can take wirelessly from your debit card, no problem.
I complained that the driver spoke no English. "We have over 1,000 drivers in Bratislava. They cannot all speak English," he replied. Well, excuse the hell out of me, but I think that the route to and from the bloody airport to the railway station is something of a priority for linguistic ability. People enter and leave the country by the airport and railway station, and most of the world doesn't speak Slovakian.
I also complained that I tried to pay but the ticket machines did not take notes. "You could have got some change in the airport," he said. Well, yes, I could, but I shouldn't have to. It is unreasonable to expect people just off an international flight -- and since Slovakia isn't very big, the airport only has international flights -- to have change on them.
A thoroughly unwelcoming start to my brief sojourn in Slovakia.
At the station, I bought a ticket to Brno. €9.80: not too bad. This is on the Czech national railway, Česky Drahy. Compare with the Kč 210 ticket from Prague to Brno from the same company -- about three times the distance, but it costs €7.65. This pattern was repeated; a beer was €1.90, a small meal was €15 and a couple of coffees €2-€3 each. That's significantly more than in Czechia. I guess there's a reason why the Czech government has been fighting shy of adopting the Euro, which has apparently been delayed two or three times now. Currently it's scheduled for 2020 but the locals tell me it won't happen.
Now, the Czech Republic has more industry and a stronger economy than the Slovak Republic, which has little industry. Some internationally-known companies such as Báťa and Škoda are Czech; Slovakia has no analogues, although it does have some tech multinational presence, such as Hewlett-Packard.
However, meagre as my economics knowledge is, I believe that small countries with weak economies tend to suffer inflation when they adopt the Euro. One of the delights of the Czech Republic is how cheap most things are. If they join the Eurozone, that will end.
Having been stung, or burned, or both, by Bratislava public transport once, I stashed my suitcases in Left Luggage and walked into the city centre. It's not as pretty as Brno, let alone Prague. Rats scuttled through the bushes by the bush shelters on the approach to the train station, and many buildings are in dire need of renovation. There's also been a nasty case of planning blight and a lot of ugly modern structures, destroying the texture of the old town - barely a single block is untouched. I had a pleasant Asian fusion meal by the river -- not on the riverside, as that's a big multilane road. I walked back across the old town to the highest-rated microbrewery on Google, another 20min hike.
It was shut.
I decided that on balance, I'd had enough of Bratislava. I would not take the last, 11PM train, which got in really late -- past midnight. I'd take the 8PM one. I walked back to the station, but passed an open bar, and I had an hour or more to kill yet. I went in. A big bald waiter came up and addressed me in Slovakian.
I asked if he spoke English. He just looked confused -- no yes, no no, just more Slovakian. I asked if I could just have a beer.
"Beer?"
"Yes, beer. Can I just have beer? No food?"
"Beer!"
"OK... What beers do you have?"
"Beer!"
He went off, I thought to get a menu. Noooooooo. He came back and presented me with a tankard of lager.
"What is this?"
"Beer!"
"Yes, but what beer?"
Now he was lost, and went and summoned an Anglophone colleague.
"Yes, sir, is there a problem?"
"Well, yes, I asked your colleague what beers you have, and he gave me this."
"It's beer. He just gave you the best one we have."
"OK, but what is it?"
"Oh! It's Pilsner Urquell."
"But I live in the Czech Republic. I wanted to try a Slovak beer."
"Oh. Well, we only have one, and it's a dark beer."
"I like dark beer."
"Ah. Sorry."
So I drank my Bohemian lager in the Slovak capital, and gave her €2 for my €1.90 pint. Change was not forthcoming. I left.
Back at the station, the train was running late. At least 15 minutes late. And while the station abounds in kiosks for snacks and soft drinks, no beer. So I went to the café next door, whose Wifi I'd already been nicking, and bought a couple of cans of Slovakian lager for about €3 and used their loo. Returning, the train now had a platform, at least, so I retrieved my luggage and got on.
I found myself sharing with a charming local who lived in Brno, Ivana, who despite being hungover, exclaimed in delight when I pulled a tinny out of my bag, as that meant she could open her can too. I even managed to follow the interchange between her and the conductor:
"Dobry den. Jizdenky, prosim."
"Dobry den?" (With a look at her watch.) "Dobry večer!"
"Dobrá, dobre odpoledne?"
Which I may have got wrong, but goes something like...
"Good day! Tickets, please."
"Good day? Good evening!"
"OK, good afternoon?"
Some of it is starting to make a tiny bit of sense, at least...
So, yeah, Slovakia, or at least its capital. Not very friendly or helpful and compared to Czechia it ranges from 50% more expensive to one hell of a lot more. Not struck, really.