Little Big City. A Sunday Trip to 1986

 

On Sunday morning we woke up before dawn to begin our international adventure. We ate breakfast, packed our things, and headed to the bus stop. While waiting there, we enjoyed a beautiful sunrise… accompanied by the rather dramatic coughing of a local gentleman who appeared to have spent the night on a nearby bench and whose lungs suggested a long-standing acquaintance with tuberculosis.

After some thorough pre-trip research, we had discovered that the main train station in Bratislava supposedly had several luggage storage options - lockers as well as a staffed baggage service. Because of this, we decided to bring our backpacks with us and leave them there for the day. The thought process was simple: if we happened to return to Vienna later than planned and needed to rush straight to the airport, at least we wouldn’t have to hunt down our bags first.

The train was already at the platform in Vienna a full half hour early. We picked our seats and settled in. One hour later we stepped off the train… and found ourselves transported to roughly the year 1986. That seemed to be the last time Bratislava’s railway station had received any kind of renovation or loving attention.

We searched enthusiastically for the promised luggage storage. And then we searched some more. Unfortunately, what didn’t exist could not be found. Accepting defeat, we put our backpacks back on and began walking toward the old town through the presidential garden.

The old town turned out to be small, charming, and pleasantly spacious, with wide streets and glorious sunshine. It felt like an entirely different world compared to the deep Soviet atmosphere that still lingered just a few steps outside the historic center.

Naturally, we climbed up to the castle, enjoying the sunshine, the exercise (don't forget - we were carrying our backpacks!), and the views over the city. After that we wandered back down into old town and stopped for a light lunch. Our cappuccinos arrived at the table being decorated by cheerful International Women’s Day greetings. The food sounded significantly more impressive on the menu than it eventually looked on the plate.

After lunch we continued exploring, including a visit to the local department store, which also appeared to have last seen a renovation sometime during the 1980s. Soon it was time to head back toward the train station.

The return train ride took about an hour again. This time we left our backpacks in Vienna’s train station lockers and went for another walk. Before heading back to the train station, we decided to stop at a café where we had originally planned to have brunch before the Bratislava idea appeared.

Well, we hadn’t made it to brunch - but now we were at least having a late afternoon snack. Helena ordered a beer and I had a grilled cheese appetizer. When it came time to pay, I confidently reached for my phone… only to hear the unexpected words: “cash only.”

This was a total WTF moment, because honestly - who even carries cash anymore? After some frantic digging through pockets and bags, we managed to assemble the required amount almost entirely in coins. At that moment I felt deeply grateful that we hadn’t actually made it there for brunch. Brunch would have cost significantly more and we might have ended up washing dishes in the back for the next two weeks.

In the end it became a proper time-travel experience — the 1980s greeted us at the Bratislava train station and the 1990s finished the job in Vienna with a proud “cash only” policy.

The flight home was pleasantly uneventful, and shortly after one in the morning we were safely back home again.

Vienna: the Sound of Elegance. Of cakes and culture

After quite a long break, Helena and I finally had a small city trip planned. On Thursday we flew to Vienna. The flights were perfectly on time and entirely uneventful – which, for aviation people, is often the highest compliment you can give a flight.

We arrived at the hotel, checked in quickly, and headed to our room. There we discovered that instead of a normal bathroom, the room featured a glass-walled shower corner, an open sink area, and the usual toilet. With mirrors everywhere, it was possible to observe the showering process from practically every imaginable angle. Oh well.

In the evening we went for a quick dinner at Vapiano, where the portion sizes were so generous that we ended up packing enough leftovers for several future meals. After a short walk around the neighborhood, we called it a night.

As usual, I had carefully mapped out the best bistros in the city and had already made brunch reservations. Our agreement for the trip was simple: Helena would take care of culture, and I would take care of the food.

Friday’s brunch was excellent. From there we walked to Belvedere Palace and spent a couple of hours surrounded by art. After absorbing our cultural quota for the day, we moved on to Kaiserschmarrn for me and a grilled cheese sandwich for Helena. Thanks to thorough pre-trip research, the place was perfect and we left very satisfied.

Fully loaded with carbs, we wandered over to the cathedral. Without much thought, we decided to climb the 343-step spiral staircase with no intermediate landings. Slightly breathless but victorious, we enjoyed beautiful views over Vienna.

We took the metro back to the hotel, stopped in a few shops along the way, relaxed for a while, and later headed out again for coffee at Starbucks.

Saturday began with breakfast at Erich, where my breakfast platter could probably have fed a small village somewhere in Africa. They also served an excellent espresso with tonic and orange – a refreshing combination I had missed since they removed it from Starbucks' menu.

The plan for the day included sightseeing, the Ferris wheel, and schnitzel. We wandered through the old town, took photos, and enjoyed the perfect weather. At one point we fell into a classic tourist trap café that promised an amazing “Floral Cappuccino.” What we received instead was a pink, Instagram-ready foam drink. What we did not receive was cappuccino. The cup, decorated with a dried marshmallow rim, contained lukewarm milk with a faint suggestion of coffee.

Moving on quickly, we headed to the famous Vienna Ferris wheel, where we once again enjoyed lovely views over the city.

After that it was finally time for schnitzel. We went to a restaurant reputed to serve authentic Wiener Schnitzel. There was only one other table occupied in the entire dining room, which did not seem particularly promising. But when we started hearing the unmistakable sound of meat being pounded in the kitchen, we knew at least the food would be freshly prepared.

The schnitzel turned out to be absolutely perfect – crispy, golden, and everything it should be. Helena’s crispy potatoes and sesame chicken were excellent as well.

We made a quick stop back at the hotel to rest before heading out again in the evening. Helena had requested Sacher cake, and we agreed the proper place to eat it would be Café Sacher. Apparently every tourist in Vienna had come to the same conclusion. After about 20 minutes in line, we were rewarded with the best possible table – a large booth upstairs right by the window.

Helena ordered the famous Sachertorte, and I went with apple strudel. Both were fingerlicking delicious. Afterward we walked past the opera house before heading back to the hotel.

At some point during the day we had realized that Sunday in the German-speaking world tends to be so quiet that even the birds appear to take the day off. So we decided to do something different: visit a neighboring country instead.

We bought train tickets to Bratislava and set our alarms for six in the morning.