Our last day in Dublin was a long one, because a group of four of us flew to Bratislava from the Dublin airport at 6 a.m. Monday morning. Problem was it was 10 a.m. on Sunday and we had no money for extravagances such as a hostel or a bed and breakfast for the night. So we roughed it in true American style, and spent the night near the McDonalds in the airport, partly because, come on...its McDonalds, where else would we be? And partly because we were flying Ryan Air, and their desk didn’t open until 3 a.m. so we couldn’t go through security or anything and we were basically waiting in the lobby all night. Somewhere around hour 3 of the next 11 hours my compatriots and I became very very bored, and again, having no money for overpriced airport cards, we spent 1 euro on a notebook and made our own playing cards. The suits were Christmas trees, stars, the Red Hot Chili Peppers logo, and Pokeballs (that one was mine). We played cards for awhile, but eventually my team members fell asleep to the soothing sounds of a man who had clearly pounded an industrial sized bottle of NyQuill and the Lonely Island serenading them about some inappropriate things in boxes as I stay wide awake, cursing my nature as a night owl for the first time in my life. So instead of sleeping I wrote in the journal my brother Mark bought me for Christmas because I was very much behind. Before I knew it the glow of my Ipod had struck 3 a.m. so I rallied the troops and it was off to the security gate! The metal in my shoulder set off the security scanner and after a quick invasion of privacy it was time to sit and wait for our gate to be announced. I was able to grab an hour of uneasy sleep on a chair, and suffer through the longest two hours of my trip so far, I swear those two hours took longer than the previous ten.
Waiting in line to board the plane to Bratislava I was a little nervous, but very excited. I knew almost NOTHING about the place. I didn’t even know what country it was in until I googled it the week before (turns out its in Slovakia) but Mark’s coworkers had recommended the place most highly, and it was only a two hour bus ride from our hostel in Vienna so we figured why not? My fear quickly disappeared however, all thanks to a little blonde toddler and her father. I was behind them in line and the little girl waved to me, so I waved back, and she waved back more enthusiastically, as her father laughed and encouraged her. I took the game a step further and started to hide behind people, and pop up excitedly in her line of sight, and she just loved it. She caught on and buried her face in her father’s shoulder, waited for a second, and then shot up with surprising speed for a such a tiny little person, smile a mile wide just roaring with laughter. I mean how can you be nervous after an interaction like that?! I slept almost the entire plane ride, being roused by one of my favorite things on this earth- the Ryan Air “on-time flight” victory song.
We found ourselves with an afternoon to waste wandering around Bratislava before catching a bus to Austria, so we squared away our transportation to the city center and to Vienna and the rest of the time was ours! As we arrived during business hours, it makes sense that they city would be quiet, but man. It was really quiet. It really did make it feel like the city was just for us. I wish we had a little more time there because we didn’t get to see much of it, but the parts we did see were really cool. A nice square, some very interesting sculptures, and a row of pubs. We stopped in for some real local Slovakian food, and it was just incredible. I split a meal for 2 with one of my friends that was a literal platter of meat. Turkey. Ham. Bacon. Roast Beef. Chicken. MORE BACON. It was incredible. The two of us decided that our shared Viking heritage had blessed us with a gift from Valhalla, because all that meat, bread, biscuits soaked in pig fat, and a mug of locally brewed beer was only 10 Euro each, which is a darn good price for the sheer mountain of meat we faced. Sadly, after that it was time to leave, and we boarded a bus. There was no one sitting behind me, so I could recline my seat to its full extent without guilt, threw in my headphones, and Ingrid Michaelson sang me to sleep, and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the word Vienna. No really we had reached the airport and it was a gigantic sign outside the bus stop.
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