Birthday in Bratislava

3 February 2007 The alarm goes off at 5.30 on a Saturday morning and I go to the central station to catch the shuttle bus to Orio al Serio airport. I arrive in Bergamo half an hour early for the meeting with the girls and 20 minutes ahead of the time scheduled by the shuttle company. Just to kill time and above all my stomach, I go for a cappuccino and a brioche in a microscopic bar. Once the girls arrive, we check in super quickly and get in the queue for the checks. It's time to board, the 737 awaits us brand new on the runway; on the fuselage there's a smiling Miss painted with a sceptre and a little crown. On board we're the only women, or almost.

Let's say the couples and young people are headed to Vienna, which is a few km from Bratislava (in fact the flight is officially called Bratislava/Vienna), while the men are headed to "Brati", apparently a destination for "alternative" tourism. The flight seems calm and Annalisa and I order coffee. When the coffee finally cools down and starts becoming drinkable, the force-4 gusts of wind begin....but why does Murphy's law always catch us? If you want to avoid turbulence on a plane, never order a drink, word of a frequent flyer! We land in Bratislava on a plain dotted with windmills, a bit crooked compared to the runway, but without problems and right on time. We quickly collect our bags and buy tickets for bus no. 61, which will take us into the city centre. There are tickets at various prices depending on the duration.

According to the timetable, the bus should come every 15 minutes, let's hope so because it's starting to sleet! After a quarter of an hour that's longer than my whole life, the legendary 61 arrives. Annalisa wisely starts counting the stops, because everything is written in Slovak and we have no idea where we are and where we're going. After 12 stops we arrive at a junction where we have to get on a very old tram (number 12, but one's as good as another), which marks the route on a lit panel. Architecturally the city is typically communist in style. In less than half an hour we arrive at our hostel named Patio.

Although the facade is about to fall down, inside it's not bad, it's all Ikea-furnished and we even have a room with bunk beds all to ourselves! After settling in, map in hand, our discovery of Bratislava begins, under such crazy weather that it seems inexplicable, a continuous alternation of English drizzle, sun, bora-style wind, sleet. You can't make sense of it anymore. We take a tour of the historic centre, which is beautiful, even better than I expected. All the old buildings are perfectly renovated, freshly painted and restored. The city reminds me quite a bit of Prague, albeit in a mini version and clearly less beautiful, only it has this strangely deserted air. There are loads of art galleries, nice shops, cafés, fountains and very strange statues! After not even half an hour of wandering we already feel weak and go into one of the city's historic cafés for a hot chocolate.

The café is very nice, there's even a melted chocolate fountain at the entrance. The waitress seats us at a little table on the first floor with a view of the square. The menu is all in Slovak and Czech, but luckily we spot a range of Italian-brand chocolates, so we manage to order with gestures. We resume the tour of the city, its little shops, its bars, until we decide it's time to eat something. We dive into a typical restaurant, all smoky (I love the Sirchia law more and more). The menu is obviously written in Slovak, but luckily there's a partial translation into English. Dishes arrive with trucker-sized portions. Still, it's all very good, even if a bit heavy for our habits.

In the afternoon, to digest, we walk up to the castle that dominates the city and look down from above at the beautiful blue Danube, another series of windmills and the hyper-communist outskirts on the other side of the river. Given the time we woke up this morning, the idea is to go to sleep for a couple of hours before dinner so we'll then be ready and fresh to party all night and worthily celebrate my birthday, the real purpose of this trip. After a good sleep we slip into a place to eat just around the corner. The place is very nice, it looks like a medieval castle. It's huge and there are 7 rooms which I think represent the rooms of the cavalry. It's blazing hot and there are clouds of smoke everywhere...what a nuisance, damn! Heating in this country is a very strange concept.

Maybe they're used to having rigid winters, but it's not normal to heat like this, believe me, it must have been 27 degrees... Dinner is very heavy, as usual based on meat, potatoes and cheese, although excellent. We go out for a stroll, to cool down a bit, digest dinner and look for the Movida. We try to find a place just to celebrate, but they're all either packed, or with door selection, or too hot, both because of the indoor temperature and because some are only for men on the hunt.... Still, there's no denying it. The women in this country are really beautiful....now a lot of things make sense

But why is it so hot? I wake up with a parched throat. Could it be that the hole in the ozone layer came about because of the Slovaks and their immoderate use of heating in their homes? How is it that it ended up over New Zealand, so green and clean? We brought food from home with the idea of having breakfast at the hostel and saving money, but we give up soon enough, because the kitchen consists of a sink, where people go to brush their teeth because the only bathroom on the floor is always clogged and the common room is in the understair area with no windows. But who conceived a hostel with 4 six-person dorm rooms per floor and just one bathroom made up of 5 showers with no glass or curtain in front, but only one toilet and one sink? The work of lunatics. Washing is practically impossible. To console ourselves, we go to a bagel place.

The place is really very chic, with huge leather armchairs, sofas and areas to plug in your own laptop and surf freely. This city is a truly unique contradiction, essential and sp