Having left Budapest at 11am, we got to Bratislava at 3pm, hangover and exhausted. During our short walk from the train station to the hostel, a young girl who looked like she could have been the child in that 60s movie “Bad seed” stared at us malevolently. There was a moment of panic, “Guys, are we really sure this is a safe city for black people?” All our fears were dispelled though once we got to Hostel Possonium. It was a lovely hostel and the staff made us feel welcome. We napped a few hours as we suspected it was going to be a big party night – the 3rd or so continuous one, in yet another country….When we woke up and got ready to leave for the club, the receptionist invited us to take shots of a drink called Panika – on the house. I immediately approved of a hostel that serves complimentary shots.
We had a heavy dinner in the old part of town, walked around a bit and finally entered a lounge called Prima. We had a drink or two there then most of the group was tired and left for the hostel. The BARacuda and I were up for more partying. We walked to a club called KC Dunai and were not let in. I HATE not being let into clubs. They said it was too packed, but I was already catching feelings. The BARacuda saved the night. As we were roaming around, she heard music coming from a basement and told me that this was to be our party place for the night. I followed her into this basement and we got into a pretty little cozy club.
The bartender was smitten by the BARacuda and decided that all our drinks would be on the house. Ever since I watched Eurotrip in 2003, I had decided that if I ever got to Eastern Europe, I was going to drink absinthe. I had been searching for absinthe since Prague, but could not find it. Some people had recently died in Czech republic from drinking bad absinthe and a ban had been put on all absinthe. In the bar I decided to ask the bartender “Do you have absinthe?” He didn’t really speak English, but he smiled and reached under the counter to find this magical drink. Unfortunately he came out with a bottle of Absolut vodka….. “Aaah, no. Not absolut…A…B…S…I….N…T…H…E.” “Aaaaaah” he replied. He said something that sounded like “Yes! I have exactly what you want…my secret stash from before the prohibition”….or at least that’s what I think he said. He brought us the bottle and served us a shot each. It was such a lovely ritual. Sugar on spoon. Fire under spoon. Flaming spoon in shot glass. Voila. Drink. He gave us each 3 or 4 shots by the end of the night. It was a blurry night.
When we did eventually get home at 5am, I was wearing one earring that was my own and another that was definitely not mine. (I later on recalled making a friend in the ladies bathroom, promising we would be friends forever and exchanging an earring as the mark of our binding agreement…..She was the lucky one. Her earring was not thaaaaaaat cute…The Safety Net has still not forgiven me for giving away one of our funkiest maasai market earrings.) We also apparently got to the hostel with a lot of noise…and there is a small chance we might not exactly recall how we walked home….The Green Fairy vs. me and BARacuda: 10-0.
We slept for an hour, woke up, frantically packed and rushed to get our train to Ljubljana in Slovenia. It’s a problem when you need to wear sunglasses at 6am.