San Francisco Chronicle
Europe On The Cheap
Bratislava comes to life. Slovakia's lively capital emerges from post-Communist dreariness© October 23, 2005 - By Susan Ladika
Bratislava, Slovakia -- It resembles any other cafe in Bratislava's quaint Old Town: small tables and chairs lining the pedestrian-only cobblestone street. A small bowl on each table holds a brightly colored Gerber daisy. But unlike the other cafes, it's not cheap local beer or foamy cappuccino that draws patrons to Cokoladovna.
Instead it's the 60 kinds of rich chocolate drinks, each tasting like you've crawled inside a melted chocolate bar -- some with splashes of liqueur. A small spoon comes with each glass to lap up the lush concoctions topped with whipped cream. There's the "Sudan," which doesn't fit today's vision of the African nation. It's more like a vision of heaven -- even for a non-chocoholic -- with honey, bits of orange and coconut mixed in. "Spain" has cherries and cherry liqueur, while "Mexico" is spiced with chili, anise and vanilla.
Even more amazing than the taste is the fact that these luscious chocolate drinks are available at all in Bratislava, which under Communism and its immediate aftermath was almost synonymous with wretched food and general cheerlessness.
The dreariness lasted well into the 1990s, because, according to local wisdom, the Czech Republic took Slovakia to the cleaners in their divorce. For years, the two countries had been united as Czechoslovakia. But as Communism crumbled in 1989, Czechoslovakia was able to throw off Eastern domination with the peaceful "Velvet Revolution." Not long after, Slovakia began bucking for a nation of its own, and in 1993 Slovakia and the Czech Republic parted ways in the "Velvet Divorce."
It was far more amicable than most divorcing couples could ever imagine. But for most, it seemed that the Czechs ended up with the bounty of the marital assets. It would be hard to outrival Prague, the capital city, with its astounding mix of architecture that filmmakers routinely use to simulate the Continent's great cities, and its powerfully moving Old Jewish Cemetery. For a hip icon, who could be better than playwright-turned politician Vaclav Havel, who took former President Bill Clinton out for a night of jazz?
Meanwhile, mentioning "Bratislava" still draws blank looks on many American faces. Even as recently as last year, the teen flick "Eurotrip" used Bratislava to epitomize dreary Eastern Europe. (Fun fact: Those scenes were filmed in Prague.)
In reality, Bratislava has made an abrupt U-turn in the past decade. Things have come a long way from the early 1990s, when guidebooks recommended that travelers driving from Prague to Budapest bypass Bratislava altogether. Now the British fly in to hold stag parties. Even with the cost of the airfare and hotel, they say, a weekend's revels are cheaper in Bratislava than in London.
My Slovak friend recalls that the few restaurants that existed in the years during and after Communism served up heavy meats and overcooked vegetables, or spaghetti topped with ketchup and grated cheddar cheese. Now the city is making a name for itself with its often-inexpensive food and drink.
One of the best culinary additions is Traja Musketieri (Three Musketeers), which combines a menu based on the novel's main characters with waiters and waitresses clad in clothing from the era. The pâte contains pistachios and dried plums, and is laced with a plum sauce, or pasta is filled with artichokes and sun-dried tomatoes -- combinations practically unimaginable in the Communist era.
It's hard to imagine Old Town as it once was -- crumbling, gray buildings divided into dingy apartments -- with not a restaurant or cafe in sight. Today it's the heart of the Slovak capital, drawing tourists from around the world, and those visitors are likely to increase with Slovakia's admission to the European Union last year. The country joined the Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland, Slovenia, Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia as the first former Communist nations to become part of the EU (although fortunately for the American exchange rate, Slovakia still uses the koruna and not the euro).
In Bratislava, the drab buildings -- many dating back to the 1700s and 1800s -- have been restored to the elegance of their earlier days, mirroring the grand architecture so common throughout the swaths of Central Europe that once were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Ground floors are filled with shops and restaurants, and on sunny days the tables and merchandise spill out onto the street. Beneath the turrets and gables, the city takes on a Mediterranean air as locals and visitors crowd around umbrella-shaded tables, nursing a coffee or digging into a plate of risotto with prawns and zucchini.
The city's most unlikely transformation might be the grand Radisson SAS Carlton Hotel, which was a decrepit eyesore less than a decade ago. Once the grand dame of Bratislava's hotel scene, it was the headquarters for Slovakia's smart set. But it suffered from decades of Communist neglect and was closed for safety reasons in 1993, reportedly after a bathtub crashed through the ceiling and landed in the room below. Now the hotel facade resembles an opulent 19th century palace, and there's a clubby lounge and elegant common rooms.
If there's one word to describe Old Town, it's cozy. Unlike the central city in many European capitals, Old Town is eminently walkable, a pedestrian-only zone wedged between the Danube River and the old city walls. Popping up in unexpected places are whimsical bronze sculptures, such as a man peeking out of a manhole cover or a paparazzi peering around a corner.
The city also is dotted with tiny museums and other attractions.
The City Museum in the Old Town Hall is cobbled together from a number of centuries-old homes. Much of the museum's collection reflects artifacts and implements of daily life, particularly of the centuries when the city was a crossroads for Slovak, Austrian and Hungarian cultures. A newspaper written in Hungarian might be on display next to a game with instructions in Slovak and a book printed in German.
But much of that multiculturalism began to fade following World War I as Slovaks from the countryside moved to the city. Now the Slovak language dominates, but at the city's cafes and attractions at least some of the staff is bound to speak English.
For me, the City Museum's undisputed highlight was its tower, reached by steep, winding stairs with a rope handrail.
I marveled as I met a cleaning woman who had somehow managed to lug a mop and bucket of water to the top.
I was even more surprised when she pointed me to a door that let me out onto a balcony with sweeping views of the buildings lining Hlavné námestie, the main square. So much for liability laws here.
Nearby is the Primate's Palace, which contains the city's most remarkable works of art -- six 17th century English tapestries hidden in the palace walls after the city bought the building in the early 1900s. The stunning tapestries depict the Greek legend of Hero and Leander, and no one is quite sure how they wound up in Slovakia, or when or why they were stashed in the palace walls.
Brooding over Old Town is the hilltop Bratislava Castle. The facade isn't particularly elegant, although the Slovak National Museum inside the castle houses a lovely collection of Art Nouveau furniture and decorative pieces.
What makes a visit to the castle worthwhile is, once again, the tower. Climbing up the dozens of steps, I found a stunning reminder of Bratislava's Communist days. Across the Danube, the skyline is dominated by row after row of bleak, concrete apartment buildings constructed during the Soviet era. Atop the New Bridge, a circular restaurant resembles a UFO that is about to land in the middle of the river. It's one of those Communist-era wonders no one quite understands.
Despite its best efforts, Bratislava's Communist past still remains part of its present.
