ctnow.com: Bratislava, A Hidden Gem http://www.courant.com/travel/hc-bratislava0911.artsep11,0,3394192.story?coll=hc-headlines-travel Bratislava, A Hidden Gem Capital Of Slovakia, Shaking Off Oppression, Has Old-World Charm, Fairy-Tale Setting By GERI RADACSI Special to the Courant September 11 2005 BRATISLAVA, Slovakia -- Hans Christian Andersen, the Danish storyteller, once called it "the most beautiful city in Europe." Not London, Paris, Rome. Not Budapest, Prague, Vienna. A keen 19th-century traveler, Andersen was referring to Bratislava. You may wonder, then, why this capital of Slovakia is somewhat of a mystery travel destination. Perhaps because Slovakia only became a nation in 1993. Andersen would be delighted to know that Bratislava, which he praised as "a fairy tale itself," has retained its European charm without being overrun by tourists. Although communist-era housing adds a grim note, the city's lovingly restored old town welcomed us on our summer vacation with the flavors of a genuine Central European culture that rivals its grander Danube neighbors. My husband, John, now retired from Connecticut's Office of Policy and Management, had instigated our side trip. He had never forgotten two town officials from the Centre for Strategic Studies of the Slovak Republic in Bratislava who, on a fact-gathering trip, had interviewed him about U.S. practices involving town planning and city administration. That was after the communist regime had been overthrown in the peaceful 1989 Velvet Revolution and Bratislava, in 1993, had become the capital of Slovakia, following its split from the Czechs. With exuberance, they extolled their city's historic center, its baroque palaces, fountains and picturesque cobblestoned streets. And, they said, the main square, Hlavne Namestie, with its brightly colored shops and medieval towers, was straight out of a storybook. An unsung stepsister, Bratislava sits on the western edge of Slovakia, a short distance from both Austria and Hungary on a bend in the Danube, with bridges connecting its two halves. To the Austrians, it's been known as Pressburg; to the Hungarians, it was Pozsony. Perhaps the city's ambiance can be explained by its history, because though it goes back many centuries (to the earliest Celt settlements in the first century B.C.), it has only actually been Slovak for a few decades. German colonists first settled Bratislava in the 13th century. Bratislava was the Hungarian capital from 1536-1784. Until 1918, the city was largely Hungarian, German and Jewish, rather than Slavic, and it was only renamed Bratislava (for the last leader of the Moravian Empire) after World War I. In 1918, after the Austro-Hungarian Empire collapsed, Bratislava became part of the Republic of Czechoslovakia, which was swallowed into the Soviet sphere, complete with a Communist Party-led government after World War II. In 1969, when the Czech Republic became a federation, Bratislava became the capital city of the Federal Republic of Slovakia. Czechoslovakia threw off communist rule in 1990, dissolving three years later into two countries, and Bratislava became the capital of the independent Republic of Slovakia. Now Bratislava offers visitors Hapsburg-era architecture; a blend of Slovak, German and Hungarian cultures; a compact, elegantly refurbished old town with Gothic treasures; a leisurely pace; welcoming cafés; a youthful, university-town feel (with eight universities and 60,000 students); thinner crowds; plus lower prices. A city of nearly half a million people, it is not huge, like Prague for instance, and is being discovered as "the small big city," comfortable, walkable, a more serene version of Vienna. After dealing with a pesky problem (my luggage had not arrived, but staffers at the Bratislava airport tackled the paperwork/telephoning/computer glitches zealously, as did our Hotel Marrol concierge, who pampered us with champagne), we ventured up Castle Hill for a close-up of the "upside-down table" castle. The "crowning glory" seemed bland, with its boxlike design and four octagonal corner towers, for all its royal connections and magnificent setting on high ground west of the city. Dating from 907 A.D., the castle was once an outpost of the Holy Roman Empire, and after the demise of Moravia, it was a border fortification for the Hungarian governor. In 1811, the castle burned down and stood in ruins until its restoration in 1953. Inside, we wandered through a series of exhibitions, including period furniture, some 3,500 paintings, statues and prints laid out by the Slovak National Museum and scrutinized vellum manuscripts in the impressive collection of musical instruments. We gaped at heavy-duty impaling instruments, halberds able to pull a horseman from the saddle and pierce the plates of a knight's armor. But it is the outdoor view of the Danube (not in the least blue), that elicits awe and regret. John, an ardent state and regional planner, shuddered at the sight of the vast Petrzalka city quarter across the Danube: acres of ugly communist-era high-rise concrete housing. And a four-lane elevated highway slices through the Old Town's historic core. Mid-span, the "new bridge," or Novy Most, is topped by a needle tower, and its alien saucer-like revolving café, which once offered superb views over the city, is now closed. The approach road required demolition of the old Jewish quarter, recalls Dagmar Danisova, a staff member of the Tourist Information Center (located at Klobucnicka), where we stopped to pick up a free town map. "I was born in Bratislava, and I remember how the old houses and many little streets, the vegetable market place and Jewish synagogue and ghetto were destroyed," she laments. "I live in the Castle district, and now the old part is being revitalized. I'm happier when the city is full of tourists, snack bars, young people. When I take my daily route to work, it makes me feel good." In pursuit of a royal route, we descended Castle Hill to St. Martin's Cathedral, site of 19 royal coronations between 1563 and 1830, including that of the Hapsburg Empress Maria Theresa, queen of Hungary (1740-1780), who presided over a golden age for "Pressburg" and as a result converted the Castle into her sumptuous residence. St. Stephen's crown still tops St. Martin's spire. After the coronation, the sovereign would proceed to St. Michael's Gate (north end of Michalska Ulica/Street) to take the oath of office. The street's upper part is lined with Renaissance houses and cozy courtyards packed with inviting shops, galleries and wine cellars. The tower of the gate houses the Museum of Historic arms. The Old Town Hall and City Museum dominate Hlavne Namestie, the large showplace square where free concerts are often staged. Here a congenial aura pervades the Gothic- to Art Nouveau-style buildings lining the square where vendors sell handcrafted toys, ceramics and, of course, Slovakian crystal and porcelain. For a friend whose grandparents were Slovak, I bought a painting of the Old Town created by delicately interwoven straw inlays. The sparkling Renaissance fountain that commemorates Emperor Maximilian's coronation put us in a summery mood, so we stopped for a treat and ate luscious, creamy strawberry tarts at the Kaffee Mayer, a landmark pastry shop/café/restaurant. Fortified, we ascended the Old Town Hall's tower, dating from the 14th century, and were rewarded with sweeping yet oddly intimate views of the Old Town's huddled red rooftops and of the Castle's solidity. From the sublime to the grizzly, we shivered in the museum's basement torture chamber, our jaws clenched at the picture of a man suspended upside-down after having been sawed in half. A short walk from the main square, we arrived at the magnificent pink Primate's Palace. Here in 1805, Napoleon and Austrian emperor Franz I signed the Peace of Pressburg after Napoleon's victory at the Battle of Austerlitz. Sobering thoughts faded as we meandered through the fanciful Hall of Mirrors taking pictures of ourselves taking pictures reflected in glorious floor-to-ceiling sparkling glass. We luxuriated among gold moldings and shining crystal chandeliers through five elegant rooms. Among the lovely 17th-century English tapestries telling the tale of Hero and Leander, china clinked and waiters bustled as they prepared for a tea, one of many social functions the palace now hosts. A staff person patiently tried to guide us in German - but alas, we did not speak the language. Slovak is the official language, but Hungarian, Czech and German filled our ears. Nevertheless, navigating without those languages, we were not too much at sea because someone always materialized to help us out in English. We merged into the invigorating hubbub of Hviezdoslavovo Namestie, an elongated, tree-lined piazza with its splashing fountains and open-air cafes. Focus of the diplomatic community, the square drew a few thousand Slovaks this past February, when President Bush, having met earlier with Russian President Valdimir Putin at Bratislava Castle, gave an address praising the help of Slovakia in building democracy in Iraq. He said visa barriers should be improved to allow more Slovaks to go to the United States. The oblong showpiece is bordered by the classy Radisson SAS Hotel Carlton, by the imposing Slovak National Theatre (a late-19th-century opera/ballet house) and the ornate Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra building (just off the Hviezdoslavovo Square behind the Hotel Carlton). A statue of Pavol Orszagh Hviezdoslav, the country's most famous poet, dominates the heart of the square. On the day we ambled through the promenade, the Cow Parade 2005 was in town, and locals along with tourists pointed their cameras. Upside Down Cow, draped in a crimson shawl, drew giggles from a small child and from me, too. We spotted the Slovenska Restauracia on the square and perused its appetizing menu: goose liver and medallions of salmon in saffron sauce, served with spinach pudding. But following the suggestion of our concierge, we looked up a local eatery, Bistro Maja (on Dobrovicova Street). Its log-cabin décor and pub milieu appealed, but the menu, entirely in Slovak, was a befuddlement. Our server, a lively young woman who covered her face and laughed at our English, produced a Slovak-English dictionary. The three of us mimed and used such international sound effects as BAAA! and MOO! to translate the menu. We settled on a traditional Hungarian goulash and Austrian schnitzel with boiled potato dumplings. For $4, we departed stuffed on good food and laughter. On a balmy evening we meandered along and happened on St. Elizabeth's Church (Bezru Cova). Because a love of the color blue is coded in my genes, I immediately gasped with pleasure. The Little Blue Church, as it is known, stood before us, a superb art-nouveau fantasy, looking like a blue confection. As we leisurely stepped, arm in arm, back through the pedestrian-only Old Town walking zone, a seductively calming oasis, my husband reflected: "What a wonderful model of good town planning - the mix of squares and narrow streets, interest at every turn. And how comfortable the human scale and aesthetically pleasing these buildings. It's a place exclusively for people to relax away from the noise and pollution of cars." I reflected, "The people we've met here have been so eager to make our vacation fun." Not being Budapest or Prague or Vienna, perhaps Bratislava is trying harder to coddle its tourists. More than a weekend add-on, the city is a jewel in its own right, a respite from over-commercialism and delicious to discover. Geri Radacsi is a free-lance writer living in Farmington. Copyright 2005, Hartford Courant