A decade after Czechoslovakia split in two, the 'old countries' emerge a new from the pall of communism.
By Patricia Harris, Globe Correspondent, 1/12/2003
BRATISLAVA, Slovakia - Standing outside the 14th-century gate into the oldest section of this 1,000-year-old city, tour guide Martin Sloboda was talking about youth. "You have to understand what a young country we are," he said, pointing across a busy intersection to Slovakia's presidential palace. "After the fall of communism, we had to establish a country and make the transition to democracy."
Jan. 1 marked the l0th anniversary of the separation of Slovakia and the Czech Republic, and a visit to the two countries is a study in contrasts. As Central Europe continues to emerge from the gray shroud of a totalitarian half century, a sense of reinvention is palpable in these two countries that used to be one.
PURE WINTER RUSH
The notion of history is fluid in Bratislava. The city's last heyday was 1563 to 1830, when it was the capital of Hungary. The 1,000-year-old city remains, but the borders have shifted. Today Bratislava serves as the capital of the new nation of Slovakia.
As he led visitors through the city, Sloboda turned this way and that, pointing out historical landmarks: the Gothic town hall, site of an evening light show; the immense 1sth-century Primate's Palace, once used by the Hungarian bishops and now a popular wedding venue. The late-19th-century Slovak National Theatre, set at the head of a park-like promenade to the Danube, draws music lovers from Vienna for its reasonably priced opera productions. The Michael Tower, with a 14th-century base and an 18th-century steeple, is the only surviving watchtower. Climb to the top for a grand view of the city grown like a bramble patch along the river, or walk through the gate into the heart of the old town.
But Sloboda, a young publishing entrepreneur when he's not giving tours, clearly relished the present more than the past. Even as walkers stumbled, he couldn't help but delight in the not-so-ancient stones paving the street. The originals were sold to Western Europe for hard currency in the 1960s, while the replacements were laid in the 1990s in anticipation of the tourist hordes that have yet to materialize, he said.
Wealthy vintners used to live in the 16th-century Baroque townhouses that line the streets. Slovakia's extensive wine-growing district actually begins at the edge of Bratislava on the slopes of the Carpathian foothills. The vintners' homes have been converted to shops and restaurants. Many of the wine cellars, logically enough, have been transformed into bars where you can sample the light and crisp white wines made from several famous Central European varietals, including Muller-Thoreau, gray Riesling, Muscat, and Veltliner.
"We keep disappearing underground in the evening," Sloboda said, laughing, as he described the social scene. The cleverest reuse of space might be the UW Cafe (Venturska 9), a former nuclear bomb shelter turned Goth-themed rathskeller. "Bomb shelters are everywhere," Sloboda said offhandedly. "In the 1950s, we were afraid of you, and you were afraid of us."
Old as the hills
As they build their new country, the Slovaks continue to look to their roots. "Our origins are in the mountains," Sloboda said. "If you want to see the real Slovakia, go to the mountains, eat sheep cheese, and drink slivovitz."
Well-maintained Soviet-era trains make travel in Central Europe fairly easy, and a European East Pass (available in the United States from Rail Europe) removes the hassle of buying tickets. Is about a five-hour trip through low hills, some of them topped with ruined castles, to reach the High Tatras, the only alpine stretch of the Carpathian chain and the border between Poland and Slovakia.
The little village of Stary Smokovec sits in a valley surrounded by craggy peaks. It was one of the first resorts in the area, and the Grand Hotel from 1904 dominates the short main street like a country lord's manor house. Hiking trails and a funicular rise behind the massive yellow building, but they only scale the nearest hill. To reach the heights, take a cable car from nearby Tatranska Lomnica up 8,642 feet to Lomnicky Peak. As the second-highest mountain in the Tatras, Lomnicky was one of the most popular ski resorts during the Soviet era. In late spring the rugged mountains are still covered with snow. The view from the observation station takes in Poland and even the Alps, more than 300 miles away. But don't neglect to look down to try for a glimpse of the elusive Chamois Tatrica. The rare mountain goats, of which about 900 remain, live only above the tree line in the upper reaches of the Tatras.
Although Stary Smokovec primarily attracts mountaineers, the village is known for its two wooden churches in the region's distinctive half-timbered architecture. It also makes a good base for a day trip to Kezmarok, a bustling market town with one of Slovakia's most fascinating churches.
Kezmarok's 13th-century founding confirmed the region as a crossroads of Central Europe. A plaque in the town center proclaims that it originated "from a fishing village, Hungarian border guards, and German settlers." Throughout the centuries, the area has been subject to a great deal of religious and political strife. In 1717, when the Evangelical Church was constructed in a mere six months, Roman Catholics had the upper hand and Protestants faced severe strictures on the public display of their worship. But the congregation turned stern building restrictions into a place of worship full of spirit and beauty. They built the entire church - right down to the roof shingles - of wood, and did not let the plain exterior even hint at the heartfelt adornment inside. The main altar is a masterpiece of carving and painting in a "folk Baroque" style, and painted clouds and saints parade across the wooden ceiling.
Ironically, the church is now the pride of this pretty little town, where the center is lined with two- and three-story pastel buildings. Is worth walking around Kezmarok (whose name means "cheese market") for the simple, rural ambience. Music peals from the town hals clock tower on the hour, and the 15th-century whitewashed "castle" serves as the museum of local history.
Don't leave the mountains without trying the hearty Tatras cuisine that Sloboda recommended. The restaurant in the modest Hotel Smokovec, across the street from Stary Smokovec's Grand Hotel, specializes in hearty local food. A meal of cabbage soup, potato pirogi with sheep cheese and bacon (the "national" dish), and hot apple strudel with whipped cream costs less than $5. A sip of potent slivovitz, the local plum brandy, will complete your immersion into Slovakian culture.
