Gonzo Girl

When the road surface changed abruptly from smooth pavement to rough, chip seal, I  wasn’t completely surprised to see the sign, “Slovenska”. 

We had entered Slovakia.

In the distance we could just make out the outskirts of Bratislava, the capital city. Tall communist block style apartments amid pragmatically designed buildings. Structures with purpose. 

Rolling into the city I was reminded that we were definitely leaving Western Europe. 

Up until this time, our ride had been nothing less than idyllic. Austria in general is a very clean, orderly country. It feels like a quieter and more gentle version of Germany. Trimmed gardens with climbing roses. Tidy  homes with brightly painted doors. It didn’t hurt that much of our riding was through either national parks or UNESCO sights.  

So transitioning to Slovakia felt like leaving Disneyland. A jolt to the system. 

But I have to give Slovakia a little credit. She and her sister, The Czech Republic, parted ways in 1993. Formerly Czechoslovakia, the two had been a communist country that decided to part ways peacefully in what was known as the velvet divorce. But Slovakia was a bit unprepared. She had no economic infrastructure in place so she had to start from scratch. She loosened labor unity to draw auto industries to her door. With few rules in place, things were built quickly to accommodate business. 

This felt evident looking out over the city of Bratislava from the hilltop castle. Refinery smoke stacks mixed with ancient relics. Old and new. Graffiti next to a medieval church. Nothing prim, or cute. Very utilitarian.

The next day, we headed into Hungary. Also a communist country until 1989, it had a different feel than Slovakia. The roads were a tiny bit better, things a little cleaner. Looking at its history, Hungary has been intact as a country for a very long time. While it’s type of government has changed, it has remained a single entity.

One thing that both countries seem to share is a very serious nature. The people are not smilers. I actually looked this up because, as a smiler, I started to feel a little “over the top”. From what I read, smiling is generally saved for more personal interactions. It’s considered odd to smile at someone you don’t know. 

So I decided to try this. Not smiling at people. For me, this was incredibly difficult!  For Rick? Maybe he’s of Slavik or Hungarian descent. 

Over the next few days, we rode back and forth between Slovakia and Hungary. One night we stayed in the town of Komorno which had been split in two after WWI when the Danube became the new official border. Crossing the old, narrow bridge into the Slovakian side was hair raising! Super narrow pedestrian/cycle path going over the river with a side wind was something I don’t want to repeat any time soon. My cycling style had changed from completely relaxed “look ma, no hands”, to death grip focus as we made  our way around potholes and crossed busy streets.

So when it became apparent that Sean’s little cold had turned into something much more nasty, I was a little surprised that Google recommended we stay on the Slovakian side for medical treatment. 

Which leads me to the next blog, to be titled something like, “Doctors without Borders” or “Cycling trip without a Bike”, or “Clinic Tours across the World”.

I’ll let you know how it goes.