Another day, another train. This time to Bratislava. In all of my travels around Europe, I’ve always skipped Bratislava for reasons I can’t really name. Perhaps it was horror stories of gypsies on trains. Perhaps it was that after living in Prague, I simply didn’t feel the need to visit. Maybe it’s because there really isn’t a whole lot there. Or, it could be the €1.65 per person, per night Bratislava city tax on its visitors. Yep. You have to pay to play up in this medieval town. I wasn’t pleased, but hoped the our visit would be worth it. We walked around town, had dinner. I enjoyed photographing some Communist bloc style buildings and then it quickly turned into one of those nights where I needed to crash early.
I was elated when we returned to our hostel room and two other girls in our room were already in bed as well. I was NOT elated when I woke up to other guests partying on the patio just below and outside of our room around four in the morning. I usually enjoy hostels, they’re a great way to meet people, especially when traveling as a couple, and sometimes they can be nicer than a hotel room elsewhere. But I had a big “I’m too old for this sh*t” moment as I lay in my bottom bunk bed willing the young drunk backpackers outside our window to go. to. bed.
