Huh... Wha...?

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Talk about confusion. Today has been full of it. To start, this is honestly the first time I've gotten horribly confused about European trains. I had to email my Slovakian tour company an ETA into Bratislava a couple of days ago, and used the Internet to figure out that I should be leaving Vienna from the Südbahnhof. Yesterday, though, I checked and my ticket to Bratislava says it's from Wien Westbahnhof to Bratislava via Kledering and Kittsee. Does such a train exist? No. Fortunately it's an open ticket, so no worries about time, which has been quite lucky. I got to the Westbahnhof and stared at the departure board for an extended period of time before realizing there was nothing departing for Bratislava. So I wandered over to the info desk and asked. Wrong station. Apparenty the trains to Bratislava depart from the Ostbahnhof (east station). No worries, say I. "What's the easiest way to get there?"
"Take the tram 18."
Mental alarm bells start ringing as the directions on how to get to my hostel mention that if you arrive from the SÜDbahnhof, you can take the 18 up to the West station.
"It's definitely the East station the train leaves from?"
"Yes."
"ok, thanks."
"You're welcome. Have a good trip!"
I consulted my maps. I looked at the transit maps. I wandered over to the tram station. I consulted the maps again. No Ostbahnhof to be found. F it, I thought. I'll take the tram down to the south station and if I have to, I can ask someone else there.

Arriving at the Südbahnhof, I saw signs that said platforms 12+ were in one direction, while 1-11 were in another, at Südbahnhof (Ost). I gambled and decided that Südbahnhof (Ost) must really be the Ostbahnhof (or vice versa). I was right! The helpful man at the ticket counter even pointed out the next to trains to Bratislava for me. I even managed to catch the one I'd originally intended to catch. Pretty proud of myself.

So I got to Bratislava and looked around for someone that might seem to be my guide. Nothing. Fine. I was a bit earlier than I had said I'd be. Waited 15 minutes. Nothing. Waited half an hour. Nothing. After an hour, I started to get a little worried, and began formulating a mental backup plan as to what I'd do with myself if no one showed up after 3-4 hours. I tried calling the tour company, from both my phone and the phone of a hapless Slovakian hostel info booth person that I pounced on when I discovered she spoke English (after discovering that many of the ticket booth folks did not, and that even the police had no basic English). No answer. Saturday, after all.

After 2 hours, I was mentally adjusting my backup plan, when in wandered a guy holding a plastic laminated sign with Travel Slovakia on it. Hmmmm... I got up, wandered over, and as I was approaching, he asked "are you Kate?"
"Yes..."
"Oh my god I am so sorry, the office totally messed up and told me I was supposed to be picking you up at the airport in Vienna. I just got back from there."
Given that there really hadn't been any particular arrangement as to when he was meant to meet me, I can't say that I was particularly upset - and let me tell you, the people-watching at Bratislava's main train station is actually pretty good. _Huge_ numbers of backpackers, including a teenage Scout troop, lots of cops in proportion to the space (at one point I counted 8... And it's not a huge station).

Anywho, lateness and mixups out of the way, I finally got my guide's name out of him ("they didn't even tell you that?! It's Marian"), age (28), occupation(s - firefighter, fire prevention technician, and tour guide) marital status (girlfriend), monthly income (from one job, anyway), town of origin, and more. The guy is a talker. Which is fabulous, given that I'm not. We dumped my stuff at the hotel, and wandered around Bratislava in the mist/rain for a few hours (20 degrees feels kinda chilly now. Not cold, but definitely kind of chilly). Got to see all sorts of historic sites in Bratislava, but sadly didn't do much in the way of taking pictures. It's an interesting city... All the old houses that used to be little surrounding villages tied together with blocks of uniform, unimaginative, communist-era flats... Which fortunately have had a little colour added to the exteriors the last few years, so aren't quite the grey, drab utilitarian slabs that they used to be.

Had dinner at a Slovakian pub, where I munched in traditional garlic soup, and dumplings with sheep's cheese - actually pretty good. Apparently most people either love or hate Slovakian food, so the running joke now is that my Slovakian roots are showing in my addiction to carbohydrates. Marian was wondering what I planned to do with myself for the night, and invited me to visit with some of his friends for popcorn and movies. What else was I going to do with myself? So I met Domenica, the girlfriend, her brother, and one of their friends for a night of popcorn and movies. All but Marian are still students, and the flat was typical student flat - just imagine any student apartment anywhere. The only thing about this block of flats is that you need a key fob to get in. Not unusual, I said, that's how I get into mine. "But you also need it to get out.". Huh? What? Yup. Apparently you cannot get _out_ of the building without the key fob. It's also apparently technically illegal, but...

Hotel is nice... It's called the Film Hotel. My room is the Tom Hanks room. Which is fine, although I'm not sure how I feel about the collage of Tom Hanks images hanging above the bed... But it's clean, and holy wow, I have a double bed! Haven't seen one of those in nearly a month!

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