12-Mar-2023
Yesterday, Saturday, was Day 21. Another moving-on day.
It had been very windy overnight, and some almighty gusts had persisted into the morning. Even our adorable local blackbird seemed a bit subdued.
So, we would have to bargain with a hefty wind-chill factor for our walk to the station. And the train timings were such that we had tickets not from our local hub (Keleti), but from the one about 40 minutes' walk away (Nyugati).
We toyed with the idea of calling up a taxi on the Bolt app, but eventually we decided we'd just walk it, stopping off for a restorative coffee-and-pastry on the way.
Nyugati station is another very fine one (built, according to The Man in Seat 61, by the Eiffel company in 1877). It is undergoing renovation at the moment, however, so its historic facade is swathed in builders' wraps. The Man also gave us a heads-up about the station McDonald's, which -- to the best of his knowledge -- is housed in the original restaurant dating back to that inaugural year. We are not McDonald's aficionados, but we felt this needed to be seen! As it also appears to be the only cafe at the station, we thought we'd have lunch there.
It has been extremely nicely fitted out:
Not being burger fans, we opted for wraps. Which did challenge the definition of "fast food" to some degree... Nigel ordered two pulled pork wraps for us, but about five minutes after the order was taken, he was told they couldn't do that particular variety, and would we have chicken instead? That involved signing a chitty confirming we'd accept a different order (a process delayed by a non-functioning pen), making some decisions about the chicken, and then waiting for them to hand-build the wraps (very different from the burgers, which are despatched at lightning speed). Eventually, they rolled up, and they weren't bad at all (though not cheap: nearly HUF 5,000 for two wraps and a bottle of water, which is MYR 62, or GBP 11.50).
We weren't in any rush, as it turned out, because the train was running 20 minutes late...
While we waited we took in a bit more of the aesthetic of the old station:
We were actually 30 minutes late leaving, and we lost more time on the way (pulling in to Bratislava 40 minutes behind schedule). But the 2 hours and 40 minutes of the journey were mostly very scenic. You follow the Danube for quite a way:
There were five of us in our six-seater compartment, but somehow a young woman and a thirty-something couple don't take up nearly so much space as four young men...
So, Slovakia! New Country No. 4!
Actually, technically, we had set foot in Slovakia already. In July 1995, we went on a splendidly enjoyable and incredibly cheap package tour to Poland and the Czech Republic. It was the kind of loose arrangement where they provided accommodation and transport, and after that you filled in your days as you pleased. One of the really awesome things we did was walk up the big mountain at the back of Zakopane, and then for quite a way along the Polish/Slovak border (almost impossible, therefore, not to have ever put a toe over the line). At the top of one of the ridge peaks, we passed two Slovak soldiers rather miserably going through with this absolute shortest of border-duty straws (you're talking altitudes of 2,000 metres or so here -- a long walk up each day).
Going further back in time -- to June 1989, in fact, when we were staying with Austrian friends in Vienna -- we had the opportunity to look over to Bratislava (still in Czechoslovakia at that point) across what was still the Iron Curtain. Just months later, the electrified, barbed-wire-encrusted fence of our memories, with its accompanying no-go zone, were all being dismantled, but you can see pictures of what it once looked like here and here.
Anyway, I digress.
Our latest apartment is a very short walk from the train station. Once again, it's in a really interesting building, one of a group of 10 dating back to 1902. It's laid out very elegantly, and sumptuously equipped:
Today, Sunday, is Day 22. Which means we are half-way to the first goal of the journey, which is Newark, Notts.
It was super-cold this morning, all-layers-on cold. But exquisitely bright and beautiful, and -- being Sunday -- very quiet first thing in the morning. Perfect conditions for an orientational stroll around the old town and across the river:
I'm sure we're going to like it here.