Postcards from Europe #1
A series of my first time travelling through Europe before settling into a writing residency at the Chateau d'Orquevaux. The first postcard is from Melbourne to Bratislava via UK and Austria.
Hello my dear Musers
I’m sitting at a glass desk in my room in Bratislava. The room is on the third floor of house that can be traced back to the Middle Ages in the centre of the old city. Bratislava’s last witch who was executed during the witch trials lived in this house. Outside the deep windows is the cobble-stoned Františkánske Square with a fountain of a nymph pouring out water. This square flows on from the main square in the old city, the Hlavné Square. Soon, the sounds of three young brothers belting out and strumming their guitars and drumming a box the same two traditional songs will stream through the windows from one of their various places they perform through the old city. Their mother and father follow them around, holding a plastic bag of food and an old shoe box to gather the coins. Now, it is morning and the city is waking up. Tables are being set up outside the cafe below and workers are setting up what looks to be a stage area near the Kostol Najsvätejšieho Spasiteľa, the 17th century Jesuit church. I am sure we will be hearing something wonderful this evening. Everywhere I look, there are the scents of a long history. From crumbling walls built in medieval times to more recent history.
Welcome to my first trip through Europe as M and I backpack and wend our way through from West to East until we get to Novi Sad, Serbia, the home of M’s father before I settle into my three week writing residency in France.
This is my first trip to Europe and when planning our month-long travel before I begin my residency at the Chateau d’Orquevaux, I strategically considered how we would approach it knowing that M had never been there and his connection to his Serbian roots were slim. His father had never spoken Serbian to him or talked much about his homeland that he fled from in the late 50s. The first he talked much about it to M was when we were pregnant with our first child. Douglas died a couple of years ago, and given I was travelling to France anyway, it seemed like a good idea for M to join me for some time. I am also hoping to pick up the scent of a story from Serbia of M’s great grandmother who was a lady to the last Queen of Yugoslavia.
Our trip began in Brighton so we could get over our jetlag while spending time with our great mates Todd and Emma, their two sons and their beautiful Lagotto dog Zoli. It was a wonderful four days exploring Brighton and Lewes. There, we talked and laughed, relaxed in a sauna on the beach, drank whiskey, visited Stanmer Park, saw the Round House where Virginia Woolf and her husband lived for a very short time and the Anne of Cleaves house, admired meadow flowers in nature strips and wandered the North Laines area of Brighton. As I wandered through the woods of the enormous Stanmer Park, all those old English movies of people on horses riding through the woods came to life. England is easy to travel through and the last time I came here (my first trip to the UK) in 2018 for my nephew’s wedding, my youngest and I also stayed with Todd and Emma. We left there on my birthday excited for our trip ahead and sad that our mates live on the other side of the world. At St Pancras Station in our one hour layover, catch up with our friend and neighbour who’s in London for a few weeks for work. What a life!
We travelled by train from St Pancras to Wein with a two hour stopover in Brussels. Brussels (or Bruxxelles to the locals) was a wonderful decision. As we crossed the channel from England to Europe, I googled what to do in a couple of hours there and landed on a walk, beer and Belgium waffle. Our first moment of language difficulty was buying a train ticket to get from the midi station into the centre of the city. A local woman buying her ticket only spoke French and my Duolingo French level 17 was no help; we got there in the end and in a few minutes we were in the city. While M bought himself some new reading glasses at Izipizi after seeing them in Brighton, we asked where to go for a local beer. Cafe De Hallen was buzzing with local life when we arrived. It was a wonderful way to spend a birthday, sitting in the sun drinking Belgium beer. Of course, I found a waffle before boarding our overnight train.
The train was a great experience even though (or because) we found out when we woke that there would be a four hour delay arriving into Wein because of a train issue in Paris. All the more time to watch the pass by as we crossed Germany and headed into Austria. It was interesting seeing the changes in architecture in the small villages as we headed east.
Wein was easy; we had insider intel from M’s mate who comes from Austria and my youngest’s ex who now lives there. It was a place of grandeur with a sad history. Our accommodation was in District 2 which had constant reminders of those who had lived there with plaques laid in the pavement in front of apartments remembering those who’d been taken from their houses to camps. A sobering reminder of the Holocaust atrocities. We wandered through palaces, gardens – grand and street meadows – and museums; saw friends; saw art in galleries and on the streets; saw Viktor Frankl’s house and hospital (if you haven’t yet read Man’s Search for Meaning, I recommend it highly); saw ruins from Roman times; and ate too many schnitzels (two, I decided, was too many). Where we stayed there was a local square, the Volkertmarkt, that had a Saturday morning produce market and a once-a-month concert, which we were lucky…or not…to be there for. Great to be able to immerse into the local culture.
I have found it hard to distance myself from the scars left on the land and the people from the Holocaust. When we attended a wonderful and small Wein concert in the Sala Terrena of Church of the Teutonic Order, I spoke with a Canadian woman who said she was born here and spent four years in a camp before they were able to move to Canada. She talked of her sadness and her fears for the future with the current state of affairs. Sobering.
We travelled via boat from Wein to Bratislava and it was a great way to go as I was able to see the small shacks along the Donau River with their fishing nets strung high and the large swathes of land left as national parks.
Bratislava is wonderful. I knew nothing about it before we came here and it was good to arrive with that openness. The language is harder here, but there are still many who speak English. We’re here for a few days before heading to Budapest. All is well, although today, I am tired. We have moved a lot and the arthritis in my foot is playing up. Matt has gone to see the UFO bridge today while I have a slower day to catch up on some people-watching, reading and writing.
My plan is that these postcards will come out each week, even though this one covers a fortnight; so, until next week …
x M
Love reading these postcards Meg. Can't wait to read the next one!