Well, I did mention in my early blog about my step-dad’s stag party to Bratislava. Although it was a few years ago now, I feel it only right and proper to give it a good airing once in a while and share it with you good folks.
I had arranged the whole thing (my brother was best man, but he is shit and things like that, so I offered to sort it). As I’ve mentioned before, I like to think of myself as open-minded and a bit of a traveller, so I opted for Bratislava, Slovakia.
The flights were booked, hotel arranged and transfer from Vienna airport (as it was cheaper to fly there than direct) to the hotel and back.
Things started in the curryhouse on the Thursday night with copious amount of Tiger beer being consumed. The flight out wasn’t too bad, although I did hit a rough patch at one point in which the stewardess thought I was going to pass out.
We landed and were met by our tour guide (christ knows her name) and our driver. We had about an hour or so’s drive, so we all settled in. It was arranged that the first night we’d be taken out by our tour guide and shown the watering holes. By the time we’d got to the hotel, it was only about 11 am. We checked into our hotel, which seemed ok from the outside, and ventured up the 10 floors to our rooms. FUCK ME! The place was a dive!! You flushed the toilet and water came up the bath plug, the beds looked like reminants from Soviet Mother Russia and there was a hole in the wall which looked remarkably like a bullet hole! We wiped our feet on the way out so as not to carry any shit onto the street!
Even though the hotel was a dive, it was pretty well located. We had a stroll around the main square (well, between the bars and restaurants anyway) and topped up on the previous nights beer. Come the evening, we got changed and met our tour guide. She took us to all these bars and clubs and ensured we tried all the local drink. It was then decided that we should sample some of the local “hospitality”. So we ended up in this strip bar. Dear, dear me…… One of the group was so pissed he had a private lap dance, came out, then went back in for another 5 minutes later because he couldn’t remember what she looked like. Enough said me thinks.
The following morning we were up and at ’em pretty early, with vodka and redbulls being ordered in prelude to breakfast. The rest of the day was sat around the main square as the weather was gorgeous! I have to say, we all came back with whiplash as the women in Bratislava are STUNNING. Everywhere we looked, another perfect specimen walked on by. I think all the head turning and jaw dropping was the only thing keeping us sober.
The evening came on and we had heard about this other strip bar the previous night, so decided to check it out. it only being about 7.30, we were the first ones in there. As expected, drinks weren’t cheap, but the women plentiful. They came over and asked us to buy them drinks. We told them politely no and we’re just watching. On this note, a big burly doorman comes over and orders we buy the girls drinks. Again, we say no. He then wanders over, whispers something to his mate, who picks up the phone.
Smelling something fishy, we decide it’s best to leave. As we walk out, 3 more doorman come up the stairs past us. Things were getting out of hand. We made it to the street and started walking away. A car then pulls up along side us asking if we want a lift. We say no but he doesn’t leave us alone. We look back and see the doorman coming out of the club and start following us. It was then sensibility took over….. WE RAN!!! I’ve never run so fast!! We managed to lose them, but I honestly wonder if we’d have ended up being whacked by the Slovakian mafia that night!!
We go back to the main square and bump into an Irish stag party in one of the bars. We start drinking with them and all is going well, until a “undercover” policeman decideds he doesn’t like one of the Irish guys. Then the uniformed boys turned up with batons waving and it all kicks off!! We beat a hasty retreat back to one of the Irish guys hotels to continue the drinking in peace. We get a beer in when some of his mates come down from their rooms. On hearing what had happened minutes ago, one of them declares he was going to get his gun and “shoot them in the fucking head”. We called it a night at this point.
So, to sum up, we were staying at a hotel built and furnished by Stalin himself, complete with complimentary bullet holes, had the Slovakian Mafia chase us round half the city, nearly had our heads battered in by the police and then run into an IRA hit squad on a binge. There are more stories from this truly AMAZING weekend, but I can’t write about them, incase this falls into the wrong hands……..
Definitely not a weekend I will forget in a hurry!!
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