We continued on to the "Great Synogogue" and were surprised to see such long lines for tickets, even before the opening time. But the admission was being handled efficiently (except for the inevitable clueless tourists who appear never to have been through a security screening before -- it's just like the airport, folks).
The synogogue itself was quite a sight. It has been described as "the best Catholic synogogue in Europe," and indeed, one might almost be convinced that it is a church. Pews, stained glass, a large pipe organ, and high pulpit on the side wall, are all features of the basilica down the street. Of course, there is an ark for Torah scrolls instead of an altar or crucifix, but that is almost the only give-away.
In the crypt beneath the synogogue is a photo exhibit of the building's history. Its renovation is quite recent, having stood in a state of disrepair from Nazi occupation until after the Communist era. A garden courtyard next to the building is a memorial to Holocaust victims.
Some 600,000 Hungarian Jews lost their lives, but only a fraction of those have their names inscribed here. Unless affiliated with this particular syngogue, one needs to have survivors willing to pay to have the name included on a leaf of the stainless steel weeping willow monument.
The museum was something of a disappointment. Half of it was closed for reconstruction, the other half was a more or less random collection of stuff. The most important artifact, in my opinion -- the original list, typed by Raoul Wallenberg, of Jews to whom he had granted Swedish passports -- was not highlighted or even well-preserved. It was just in a glass case, the yellowing pages not even benefitting from climate control.
We returned to the hotel a bit sooner than we had planned, grabbed our bags, and headed for the rail station. It was a good thing we were early, as we had to wait in a very long line to buy our tickets to Bratislava. But the train was on time, quiet, comfortable, and the ride along the Danube was occasionally scenic. In a little more than two and a half hours we were in Bratislava central station.
We asked some locals for directions and were soon on the tram, headed for the "Historick Centrum," or the old city. Bratislava is a rapidly developing national capital, with business and industry the primary drivers. Hotel prices here are high on weekdays, for expense account travelers, but we got a deal on a 4-star hotel on a Friday night. Most tourists come off the river cruisers and don't need hotels.
The old city was a slum during the Communist era, but has emerged largely restored with a quaint, old world flavor rivaling other great cities in this part of the world. But it's smaller. The Centrum is all pedestrian, so the streets are free of traffic.
Our first order of business was to follow the signs to the tourist information office. But we encountered a parade of school children, all in traditional costume, who stopped at the corner where we were standing to do their singing and dancing. It was sort of llike happening upon an accidental performance of Decorah's Nordic Dancers!
It is a mystery why so many places seem to hire crabby women of a certain age to staff their tourist information offices. This one barely tolerated our obviously stupid questions, and provided a map to our hotel. Turns out we were only a couple blocks away from it when we got off the tram, but if we had gone straight there, we'd have missed the parade.
We asked the crabby woman if there were some sort of festival going on this weekend. Her reply was, "No, that's just some Hungarians. It's just a normal weekend." Even though Bratislava was, for a time, the capital of Hungary, apparently it's no longer cool to be Hungarian here.
Bratislava is famous for brew pubs, but none are in the Centrum. We walked quite a way to one, but discovered that all the tables were indoors and the food was pricey. It was a gorgeous evening to be outside, so we went back to the tourist area. Big mistake. We had one of the few bad meals we've had since being in Europe. Our own fault. Mary usually puts in quite a bit of time and effort checking reviews and identifying good places to eat. She skipped that this time, and the result was sad.
At least we enjoyed a good night's sleep in our budget-priced 4-star hotel.
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