Day 58. Thursday 28 May

Needless to say, a restless night with an alarm waking us at 0800 just as we were getting into a full, sleep! A less than ordinary, overpriced breakfast over at the Departures terminal and then on to Murray’s Bus for the road trip home. And there was a friendly green Flixbus parked alongside; it must have followed us from Europe.

Driver Christian did a great job. Off Murray’s, on to Action R7 to Coolamen Court, then 70 to home – 48 hours from departure ex Budapest. Bags unpacked, heating on….it’s all over after 58 days! D is delighted we came in on budget for daily expenses, and well under for accomodation and transport.

A few impressions from eight weeks in Europe

Stays: Istanbul – Dubrovnik – Hvar – Sibenik – Zadar – Zagreb – Ljubljana – Jesenice -Postojna – Vienna – Prague – Bratislava – Budapest.

We have flown Turkish Airlines for the first time and the service and comfort has been terrific: will happily fly with them again if that opportunity comes up.

Public transport has been very useful – and wherever we’ve used it has been efficient, clean and safe. A bonus is that being the ‘right age’ (over 65 in most cases; over 70 once) it was free – just flash proof of age to the ticket inspectors. Being asked for proof that we were aged over 65 was an additional bonus. We used mostly buses (Flixbus) and a train once (over twice the cost of bus, but other advantages) for travel between cities and the bookings, connections and journeys were easy. Because we were mostly in apartments near the centre of cities, bus stations were easily accessible.

We have  probably unfairly judged random people we’ve passed or contacted in all the countries visited as surly or old, but they are probably just contained and cautious as part of their normal social/cultural/religious environment, possibly partly a left over from recent conflict (Croatia, Slovenia), Communism (Czeck Republic, Slovakia, Hungary) or other conflict times. A greeting was sometimes completely ignored but there was usually a response, if slightly startled. But we never felt threatened or unsafe in any location. In contrast, communication with our hosts was always cordial and friendly when in person. T also managed to strike up conversations with passers by or fellow café patrons and these became enthusiastic engagements (for example the lady with the broken wing in Ljubljana, or the lass serving coffee in Budapest).

Language was of course an issue for us, but English was widely spoken, often very well. Google Translate came into use a bit, usually in supermarkets trying to work out what we were looking at. Courtesy phrases such as ‘Dobra Dan’ (Good Day) helped: at one point D’s use of the greeting confused a parking attendant who assumed we were locals. There were versions of this in Croatia, Slovenia and Austria – they all pretty much sounded the same to us!

Crowds were expected but it was surprising in some locations how big they were in this ‘pre-season’. Crowds were particularly big in Dubrovnik, Vienna and Prague. Crowd behaviour was an issue: little courtesy, particularly in queuing and getting on or off transport (that being so, there was an old guy getting on the Murray’s Bus in Sydney that pushed his way in!). On only one occasion did we see a seat offered up by a younger person to an older one, or a mum with baby or someone with obvious physical limitations. Shoppers were no better: D reckons the aisle blockers in Woolies are nothing on European shoppers – there was often a risk to life or limb either from a weaponised trolley or the death stare. Attempts at courtesy, such as standing aside, seemed to be met with either suspicion, contempt or ignored.

Despite the age/ history of the urban environments we were in and the volume of people traffic (and smokers!) cleaners & street sweepers kept the environments very clean (far cleaner than most public spaces at home).

Costs for food and wine were probably pretty much comparable to Australia, although we were at somewhat of a disadvantage by not being ‘in the know’. That said, there were plenty of locals at the suburban stores (IGA equivalent) and Lidl or Hofer/Aldi (Coles/Woolworths equivalent).  Occasionally T browsed in clothes shops (dissatisfied with the travel pants bought at home and the emergency patched gardening jeans that became the European routine) but clothes offerings were expensive.

Our apartments and hosts were terrific throughout – as expected given the research that T puts into finding the best option. On occasion there was noise from neighbours, as you’d expect in close living situations. In one instance (Hvar) loud music was intrusive but thankfully short-lived and on another (Vienna) there was a herd of hippos above us one morning, but they did temper their activity (maybe they ran out of cake). T reckons she will never live in an apartment.

We mostly booked through Airbnb and booking.com and only several days ahead, as T likes to stay open to changing any plan right up till the 11th hour or later.  Both platforms were great. We had a problem on one occasion only (Kolnavice outside Prague) where the location given was not useful – it was accurate but the house couldn’t be accessed from that side but the host quickly responded with alternative instructions. The exterior of the old inner-city apartments was sometimes grubby (graffiti or just stark) as in Zadar, Zagreb, Vienna, and Bratislava but inside décor and fittings were great; heating & aircon & those fabulous, double-glazed windows & doors made for very comfortable stays. If only the thumping/scraping/water running heard from above could be eliminated. And if only those induction stoves had standard operating procedures! A few things struck us as odd: kitchen & bathroom sinks without plugs…D prefers to hand wash dishes & this was challenging without a sink plug (it is presumed that residents will use the dishwasher). And we never really got used to the separate doonas, even though from a practical bed-making & sleeper comfort point of view, they make sense.

Day 56. Tuesday 26 May.

A somewhat restless, unsettled night with the first leg of our return home at 0900. The hotel is only ten minutes from Terminal 2A, so with Moon River waking us just before 0600, we had time for the buffet breakfast before checking in. The check in took all of five minutes, so we were through security and customs/passports by about 0715. D was delighted and T finished her book.

Flight to Istanbul was smooth and on time at 1215, so another wait until our 1550 departure for KL. Breakfast served, to add to our quick one at the hotel – we will arrive home porkies at this rate! A little late getting off, but no apparent dramas like last year in Spain, although we still have to get away from there after refuelling without incident.

A long flight and good (any?) sleep is impossible. We were fed almost as soon as we were airborne – about 1700 – and fed again at around midnight (Budapest time – about 0300 where we were). We both knocked back some of the offerings.

Day 57. Wednesday 27 May.

On time into Sydney and seamlessly through passport, luggage claim and customs. Checked into Rydges then downstairs to join the crowd in Smithy’s Bar watching State of Origin – although we were listening on the side rather than watching. A quiet tipple then back to the room for D to watch the second half and the Blues miracle comeback.

Day 55. Monday 25 May.

A very hot day forecast – and it was – over 30 degrees. On our now well-known walk to catch the 19 tram from Batthyanyo Square to Kosztolanyi Dezso, then the 150 bus to Memento Park (1 hour each way) to experience something of the ‘Communist propaganda’ during the Cold War. So much that was both right and wrong about the aims, objectives, and outcomes. Again, a serious/dark story that accompanies the grandeur of a very cultured & free society in 2026.

Retraced our route after about three hours – we have a book that might answer lingering questions about how/why history happened as it did.

A beer and pizza on the walk home helped revive us. Bags were ready, having been packed this morning, so Uber called and forty minutes later we’re in the Ibis Styles hotel.

Day 54. Sunday 24 May.

We should have remembered or known better; we’ve been caught out before…some years ago we arrived into Bergen on the WhitSunday weekend to find nothing open for 3 days…which meant no food/wine supplies. T discovered that today is WhitSunday & that means shops are shut & again tomorrow. We have 1 potato, no onion, no ham…just a little piece of cheese & a few greens. T had planned to get the last provisions for the trip at Lidl. So, we could do 1 more breakfast meal on Monday. The larder was assembled: enough cumin seed for 3 dinners, some trusty dried spices, half a bottle of balsamic, a newish tin of oil and 1 potato. The oil & balsamic could stay for next residents.

So, the post-brekky plan was the Synagogue then maybe the Mystical Cinema, Buda Castle & evening music at St Stephen’s. We’d have a meal out.

D’s first goal was to search en route for somewhere to dispose of our wine bottles – he hates to leave evidence of our vices behind. The problem is that there are plenty of colour coded recycling bins for paper, plastic, organic and general waste but none obviously available for glass and cans. Apparently, they are usually returned for a refund at the big shopping outlets such as Lidl and Aldi. That’s just a lead into the next part. On our way to the bus station at Batthyány Square D saw some big hopper bins and decided to investigate. T said she would just photograph some nice garden beds, which D took to mean she’d stay there to await his return. D headed off at his usual pace: T finished her shots and took off after him, to see him disappearing around a corner ahead. By the time she got there – no D. D meanwhile, thinking T would be waiting like Penelope at the garden beds, decided to check whether the local Lidl was open, which it wasn’t, so he headed back for a rendezvous. No T. Pulled out the Find My app which told him that T was at the apartment because that was the last time she was online. Oh dear! T was wandering and wondering where she’d last seen D. Our standing arrangement if we get separated is to go back to the last point we were together – it worked in Milan. D did head up the street, keeping that point in sight, to see T waving from above. We were lovingly reunited. D has transferred a spotminders card to T’s waist bag, so he can now know all the time where she is. She still doesn’t know where he is.

Coffee was a lovely moment in a tiny café where an engaging young woman recommended an accompanying slice of apple pie. She chatted to an older couple & kept an eye open for new customers…she said these were her grandparents, so we were able to show pics of ours.

On the big bus. It seemed to have quite a few Aussies, so we kept quiet, not least because of a foursome – we think parents with a grown child and partner. There was lots of muttering about arrangements, and the dad became agitated at an extended time at one of the stops and the heat. He wanted to go upstairs but his wife told him it would be worse up there, so he muttered to her, and remonstrated with the driver. The bus moved on, and there was another delay at the next stop as passengers came on and got off. The Aussies got off too – he was muttering that he had advised against this option, but no one listened. They were on the way to the Synagogue too, we think, but we didn’t come across them again. First Semester Psychology exam question: “Is travelling with your parents (as an adult) a good idea?”

First view from the bus of the Synagogue was of crowds but strangely that was not the case. We bought our tickets (expensive) and sat for about 15 minutes waiting for the free guided tour. The tour started with a speech in fast forward, no pauses for breath, by a young woman who was not Jewish. It was, despite our ‘right age’ brains struggling to keep up, informative, and brutally honest about the history of Jews in Budapest.

Following the twenty minutes lecture we accompanied her through the Synagogue with commentary as we went.

At the end of the formal part, we were free to explore various exhibits/museums. We descended into an extensive display/exhibition of the recent history of the Jewish population of Hungary, with some historical context, becoming focussed on WWII and its immediate aftermath. The main focus was around the Budapest ghetto from late 1944 until the Soviet liberation in early 1945. The stories were stark, honest and confronting. D commented after exiting that the way this had unfolded has eerie parallels with what is happening at home today.

In the courtyard behind the Synagogue was a wrenching sculpture of a Weeping Willow tree, with 6000 leaves, with names inscribed, representing the 600,000 Hungarian Jews killed in WWII. There were also plaques acknowledging the people recognised by the state of Israel as ‘Righteous amongst nations’, amongst them the well-known Raoul Wallenberg and perhaps lesser-known Sir Nicholas Winton, subject of a moving BBC show now on YouTube: https://youtu.be/6_nFuJAF5F0?si=RKc6INwBatw3wQ0Y And the movie One Life.

A walk to Parisi Udvar that T had noted yesterday, for a refreshment. “Intricate mosaics shimmer across the vaulted ceilings, while the stained-glass masterpieces of Miksa Roth filter the daylight into a kaleidoscope of colours. Delicate ceramic details, ornate arches and gilded accents reveal themselves layer by layer, inviting guests to pause and admire the craftsmanship of a bygone era.”

Menus placed in front of us: D perused, but no beers! Approached the elegant and appropriately aloof staff (this was, after all, a pretty ritzy place and D was in a T-shirt) asking if beers were possible. ‘I’ll bring you another menu’. When that arrived, we had two choices of beer, hidden at the bottom of a middle page. But when the beers arrived, they were much appreciated.

T engaged the woman sitting at the next table, asking if she knew about the history of this gorgeous café & arcade. This opening then became shared conversation about where each of us was from (this couple was from Virginia & were travelling in Central Europe by train, next stop Bratislava). Some discreet commentary about politics and world affairs. It was a lovely hour.

Next door was Cinema Mystica “A home of light, sound, arts and magic. A sensory journey that leads across various new media installations.

The spaces are transforming to mystic worlds where the borders are blurred between vision and reality, where the viewer becomes a part of the art and the magic happens…

The producers of the Cinema Mystica retaught the relation between technology and art, created an unparalleled audiovisual experience that’s absolutely unique.” Well, yes, sort of…all a bit underwhelming and what to say about those avatars?

Walked to St. Stephen’s Basilica for a 2000 concert, a gelato on the way. The string orchestra was very good, again with offerings familiar to us. D was irritated, once again, with those needing to video parts of the performance.

Back to to get the Metro – heard some Eva Cassidy from a nearby park so investigated. It wasn’t live singing but recorded music with very competent dancers. Maybe they were from a dance school?

Took the Metro for the first time for part of the journey home. Quite easy but once again no courtesy or manners in boarding or on board. Not one young person, in the considerable majority, offered a seat to an older person. One young couple brushed past us to grab two seats that became available at the first stop – and got off with us at the next stop. D gave the chap a Paddington stare but doubts he knew who Paddington was. T commented that it would be pretty scary being a single older person in this environment. The young are ascendant and fast, giving no quarter to folk of uncertain age.it’s been a very different experience than we had in Spain last year.

Day 53. Saturday 23 May.

On the buses. We’ll use the 48-hour pass on the Big Bus firstly for an overview, then to hop off/hop on (make that gingerly step off and on) at various key points of interest.

First hop off was at St. Stephen’s Basilica where we once again joined countless others milling outside.

We bought tickets online, which saved standing in a queue at the ticket office (but then stood waiting for the incoming emailed items), then joined all the gawkers inside with mobiles aloft to capture the spiritual serenity and moment (yes, including the ‘here I am in the Basilica selfies!’ Maybe it’s a new form of prayer?)  If you can’t beat them… The organist was in a practice session & he was projected onto a big screen (shades of John S?)

Back on the bus, deciding to stay on to do the whole circuit, then hop off at the Synagogue as we came back around. The wheels on the bus went round and round, and so did we as we tried to find seats out of the burning sun.

Back at the Synagogue, first priority was a refreshment…a beer & a pancake (chicken filling). Across the road at the Synagogue things looked decidedly slow – on checking, of course it was closed for the Sabbath. Back tomorrow.

Found our way to the Great Central Market (T still thought she might find something cooler to wear in these final hot days)… again closed, with the consolation of sourcing some black tea from the Aldi down the escalator. Hop on, then off to get back to the apartment for a quick dinner (that can of tuna would be perfect) before an evening cruise on the Danube.

Cruise was booked online earlier in the day, and D was a bit surprised at the cost when it came through – several times more than he’d thought it was – obviously not paying close enough attention to detail. And the departure point was not on our Buda side of the river as we’d thought, rather a few kms downstream on the Pest side. Would we Uber? No, we can get a tram along the esplanade – line 19 or 41 would do – and it’s free for over 65s!!!  Towards the end of our short trip, a ticket inspector appeared. He was happy with our passport proof of age but then interacted with three teenage girls who spoke in something other than English, who had no tickets and professed not to know what the system is (oh yeah!). He explained in English that there is a fine for travelling without tickets. They all got off the tram when we did, still discussing the matter. We departed discreetly.

Walk across the Chain Bridge to Dock 7, to be a bit mystified that our 2100 departure was not listed on the board. And at that point there was heavy, loud thumping music blasting over revellers at dockside bars. What had we signed up for? D checked the electronic ticket: 2145 departure, which was not what he thought he’d selected. We retreated for an extra hour, sitting in a park, in a lovely cool evening breeze, watching the passing parade, including several hens’ parties, folk of all ages, a few ‘lost souls’ checking the garbage bins, with city lights softening the scene.

Then it was time to rejoin the queues along the waterfront. We joined one heading towards Gate 3 on Dock 7, operated by Legenda. It moved forward in bursts but then stalled. D went forward to check to discover that it was actually a queue for Dock 6 that tailed back. We bypassed onto the reception area where we stood….and waited. And waited. Seems that the delay was the late arrival and unloading of the previous boat. Eventually boarded, seated on the upper deck, and the cruise began. After the noise and crush around dockside, the boat, with lights turned off, was a very welcome change. T was surprised by the calm; without headphone commentary & passengers mostly respecting the moment, the one-hour glide was just that and the city was indeed a magical sight.

Returned home via the same route and into bed before midnight – just. Big day for those of the right age.

Day 52.  Friday 22 May.

Four days in Budapest, so we’re able to take a fairly relaxed approach. After breakfast – a power outage! D checked the circuit breakers: all good. Notified the agent, sent photos. They would send someone around to check during the day.

Checked out Lidl for T-shirts, but they were expensive. A random woman advised T of an Op Shop named Emily London close by. So off we went guided by Apple Maps which knew of it, to discover it was now called Maggie’s. Loads of recycled clothes etc, but nothing bought. D rather fancied a brown corduroy jacket that took him back to his (much) younger (wrong) days, but the fit was definitely wrong, so we exited with nothing more to carry.

Headed towards Buda Castle in the heat of the day. Stopped below St. Mathias’s Church, sharing the experience with thousands (it seemed) of our fellows. The church square was filled with food and souvenir stalls, all highly priced. Desperation iced coffee at Starbucks, a sweet treat based on pastry & those poppy seeds & with a wedding blocking access to Fisherman’s Bastion, we moved on & down. We’ll do the castle at a different time was the decision. Decided to finish the day & get the 48-hour Big Bus Pass tomorrow.

As we neared home our street was taped off, and every fifty metres or so attendants in fluoro policed no parking. T asked what was happening: an attendant said ‘Movie’. Another 20 metres & a group of fluoros, so T asked again… Turns out tomorrow the street is to be the used in filming scenes for the second series of ‘The Jackal’, based on the Frederick Forsyth novel. The group was quite friendly but with limited English & no Hungarian on our side, details were very sketchy. Maybe we could be extras?

Day 51. Thursday 21 May.

Out of the apartment just before D’s planned departure, again with plenty of leisure time at the bus station to enjoy that special ambience!!! – and watch the passing parade of humanity.

Our bus arrived late, the throng as usual jostled for entry, and we were away. We were on the express bus, with one stop at Gyor.   It’s only a 280 km or so trip to Budapest –  two hours and 35 minutes according to Flixbus – and it was uneventful until 46 km out, when we turned off the M1 and trundled along B roads for some considerable time.

 Every so often we could see the highway – and the reason for this detour. Traffic, and thousands of trucks, crawling along or stationary, due to roadworks. Their deadlines would not be met by a long shot. We eventually rejoined the main route, having bypassed a significant section, and joined in the crawling. Arrived about 45 minutes ‘late’ but that suited us as we had a 1500 check in. We even had time, given we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, for perhaps the worst coffee on the trip – certainly the worst snack, a very stale bagel of some sort at a café by the bus station (and a very grubby bus station it was…not a good look to welcome visitors to Budapest).

Uber gave us a taxi to our apartment (Uber has been terrific throughout) – self check- in easy, albeit we’re on the second floor and there are three flights of stairs. But, being folk of the right age, we managed to lug the luggage in. Anything still remaining in the backpacks after this leg will stay here: the balsamic, a newish tin of oil, a partly used bottle of laundry detergent, baking paper, salt & pepper. Found a big Lidl nearby & T indulged in a marinara mix for tonight, recalling how terrific it had been in Spain.

Forecast for the next few days is actually hot at around 30 degrees and T has nothing appropriate in the suitcase…hmm! D pointed her to $12 cotton T-shirts at Lidl. We can’t understand why our bags seemed so heavy today, as there’s nothing much new (yet) in either.

Day 50. Wednesday 20 May.

Major activity today is to visit the Danubiana Meulensteen Art Museum. But first the walk back to the Mliynske Nivy bus station to recon tomorrow’s departure. From there, a long Uber ride took us to the Danubiana, to use its short name, located 20 kilometres south of Bratislava ready to face an extended stay. It was founded by Gerard Meulensteen, a Dutch collector and art patron, and Vincent Polakovič, a Slovak gallerist.

The museum opened in 2000, with an extension completed in 2014. Its location on the Danube River offers unique views of artwork and sculptures. The museum roof offers more sculptures plus a wide view of Bratislava, and of course the Danube River. The combination of the natural & man-made environments is stunning; the expansive exhibition spaces, the window views to the sky & of the surrounding river, the parkland…it is a fantastic cultural monument. Cruise boats slide by, swans abound, white wagtails flirt, kite surfers glide…

A couple of hours passed, after a great coffee/pistachio tart start. It was room upon room of mostly abstract and challenging, sometimes whimsical artworks.

On the advice of the reception staff took the local Route 90 bus back to the city which was an easy 30-minute ride. Did some more exploring, including a visit to the Old Town Hall and museum, in search of a short history of Slovakia. The museum had a current, temporary display focussing on family connections to the city, as well as a permanent exhibition which was curated into themes (administration of the city, coronations and nobility, crafts and guilds, trade, industry and businesses, associations, Danube, private life, education, theatre and social life) rather than a chronology. Although interesting in itself, it didn’t provide that overview that we were seeking. Over to Google and Wikipedia.

The Old Town Hall Tower provided a great panoramic view.

We’d reached saturation point again, so it was time to choose a restaurant for that traditional Slovakian dish: roasted smoked pork knuckle (with pickled vegetables). One serving was more than enough for two hungry people of the ‘right age’, and was very tasty. First impression was a bit startling – heavy roasted dark outer echoed like a drum, but once inside it was smokey, moist and flavoursome.

Tomorrow on to the last leg of our European journey: Budapest.

Day 49. Tuesday 19 May.

One night in a hotel is never quite comfortable (it’s temporary, there is always the presence of others, heavy doors slamming etc). The décor in Marrol’s Boutique Hotel (an apt name) was quite lavish in that old style, and the drapes were 3 deep: sheer, blackout and then the gold brocade (with tie back sashes). We had breakfast downstairs, buffet style and adequate to fuel up for the day. D was intrigued by, and in admiration of, two ladies of a certain age who accompanied their breakfast with (refilled) glasses of white wine (possibly champers?).

After breakfast it was just the 90 metres walk to the apartment to drop off our bags in the hope that electricity would be reconnected later in the day and we could resume our planned stay from there. Our hosts, faced with this situation, have been responsive and proactive.

On stepping into the courtyard, we chatted to a chap having a quiet smoko; he was from Cyprus & visiting a friend here. The usual response when we say we’re from Australia is ‘So far!’  He would like to visit Oz but was worried about sharks (snakes & spiders too). He commented that his country’s economy has been wrecked by Iran attacks…British tourists who underpin the economy have been scared off. We wished each other a happy day in Bratislava, there was much to love.

After unpacking, where to? Down to the waterfront, looking for a museum that might explain some of the political, cultural and social history of this country. The waterfront cruisers were in! So the lanyard wearers were about! But not too many of them, which was the case all day.

Our first pick turned out to be a museum – but we were gruffly pointed to the castle, as this particular museum was all about plants & animals. A coffee en route would be grand but two cafes were passed over, as staff made no effort to acknowledge us but the third obliged cheerily.

Of course, the castle is UP.  A pause in the climb to drop into St. Nicholas’s Church, which seemed to be more of a museum, and perhaps somewhere to light a candle, rather than a ‘functioning’ church.

Arrived at the castle – to find everything is closed on Tuesday. Nevertheless, we were able to take in the grounds and get some perspective. Combination of old & new is dazzling.

There was a yoga class on the lawns outside, participants seemingly all Sub-continent (is that description still allowed?) based on dress, but conducted in a very strong American accent.

Noted a woman reverently ‘dusting’ the statue commemorating St. Elizabeth whose short life in the 13th century (1207-1231) was devoted to care of the poor after the death of her husband.

And on the horizon…

Down the steps and back into the Old Town, via St. Martin’s Cathedral, just getting in and out before a horde of school kids came bustling in, with teachers instructing to ‘shush’. There was a group already in listening intently to a briefing: no signs whatsoever of devices. So miracles do happen in this digital age.

From there back to the apartment to find that electricity had been restored. Restocked on some food essentials for the next couple of days and caught up with laundry. That prompted us to wonder whether we could turn on the heating a bit to help dry the washing, and to warm us. Fiddled with the central heating radiator dials: no response. Checked out the water heater: error messages. Presumed that turning off electricity supply had affected the hot water system. WhatsApp to hosts who authorised pressing the reset button. There was a brief reaction on the dials but the error message returned after five minutes. Repeat. D texted the host again who arranged a visit by a ‘magician’ to fix the problem. Meanwhile, T was just chilling in the main square sunshine, observing tour groups coming & going and listening to a guitarist strumming well-known tunes: ‘Staircase/Stairway to  Heaven’, ‘Hotel  California’…

Took in the Blue Church on our way home, having decided to dine in (omelette & salad) as we were whacked once again. Not sure about this being ‘the right age’.

Delicious irony: a Chinese couple posing in front of the Blue Church while D waited, patiently and quietly, to get a good position. Chinese male took several photos, his partner came over to check, then back for another try. This happened three times. Then he vented his frustration as an Indian family approached the statue at the front and started taking photos. D suggested to T it was time for her to pose there too, but she declined.

Magician (turns out to be a good friend of the host) arrived and in short order fixed the problem – adjustment of the water pressure via a dial under the unit that we neither knew about, could see, nor would have dared touch. We now have hot water, so are not only warm but can have a shower!

Seems the Slovaks like their statues – a random selection:

Day 48. Monday 18 May.

A smooth morning on a clear sunny day meant we departed earlier than planned, so arrived at the bus station, Autobusové Nádraží Praha–Florenc, which is about 15 minutes on foot from our usual train station, with enough time for a relaxed coffee. There was so much time to spare that even D wasn’t stressed.

Our Flixbus came in late, and there was the usual rush, crush and push by some passengers to get luggage on first as though that would somehow advantage them – not even waiting for departing passengers to get their bags off until the bus driver remonstrated. He was further piqued when picking up a couple of bags, complaining to his offsider that they were over the 20 kg allowance (which they obviously were). We were suitably smug about our compliant little bags.

We eventually departed 20 minutes late. Our trip was uneventful – a five minute (turned out to be ten) stop after an hour or so, and a 15-minute stop in Brno to drop off and take on passengers. The stops probably recognised that the onboard WC was not operational for ‘technical’ reasons, which the driver more truthfully explained to the new passengers as ‘full’.

Traffic in the other direction was not so lucky. As we turned off into Brno it was banked up with little movement. As we left, on the outskirts it was banked up for about ten+ km, with trucks lined up nose to tail in the slow lane, and more coming to join the queue. The number of trucks (and buses for that matter) on the road was staggering, a constant stream of moving vehicles, plus so many parked at lay-bys and service stations. A real eye opener to the constant massive movement of freight and the critical role of diesel.

Arrived in Bratislava to get the news that the electricity in our apartment was off. A bit of to and fro with the hosts on Airbnb messages and WhatsApp, looking at options. Our host offered initially:

“Houston, we have a problem…

Dear David, we have an unforseen condition. We are very sorry and we will do our best to solve the situation the best we can. I tried to call you… via whatsapp and via cell. Long story short: the electricity in the apartment has been cut and we’ve learnt about it JUST less than an hour ago. Therefore, we have 2 options:

1. You stay in The Green Apartment completely free of charge the whole time (the electricity should start working tomorrow during the day).

2. We find and pay comparable/better nearby apartment for you, so you don’t have to pay anything extra, and we won’t give you any payment back.

3. We refund you the whole sum and you find something nearby yourselves. We are happy to help you with suggestions/assistance.

Please, let me know how you decided. We are VERY sorry for the inconvinience caused to you.

I believe, it should be possible to get to the apartment even without the electricity, since the door opener and PIN pad are battery operated.

You can also come to the apartment and decide there.”

So of those two options, we took the fourth offered later, which was one night in a nearby boutique hotel covered by the hosts, then the next two nights in the apartment, electricity reconnection permitting.

Checked out the apartment and checked in to Marrol’s Boutique Hotel. At reception the young man told us everything had been paid for except the local government fee that we were responsible for: 7 euro. He then looked at our passports and said ‘No fee – you’re the right age’. Nicest way it’s ever been put. The hotel is small, very, very elegant, very European, linen (??) wallpaper, black & white pics of yesterday’s celebrities and street shots of the stylish in a pre-jeans era… something from a movie.

Having settled, and by now about 1900, wandered deeper into the old town looking for dinner. We were on another planet!  The contrast with the last few weeks in cities was almost total: the elegance of a classical old town but with no crowds, no tour groups, spacious town squares and curved streets, and restaurants/bars with only a few patrons: where was everyone? D commented that it was a bit like the old Civic centre back home before the apartment blocks and students. We chose a cafe that offered some traditional Slovakian dishes –to learn that its kitchen was closed. Chose one with similar offerings – T had a bean soup, which was terrific, and D had a pork schnitzel Montenegrin (which means it had grated cheese on it) which was, as he described it, ‘fuel’.

Back to the hotel for a refreshment in a very sedate setting…we were in a ‘gentlemen’s club’ but there was only one gentleman on this Monday evening.