Starting in Amsterdam
With 11 days off work over Christmas 2012, we decided to do a whistle‑stop trip across Central Europe.
Given I’m too tight to pay airline baggage fees, we both wore all our clothes for the flight to Amsterdam, looking like two fatties who’d already had their Christmas blow‑out a week early.
After a sweaty 45‑minute flight we landed in the Dam and jumped on a train into the centre, greeted immediately by miserable rain.
We checked into a dorm room and met a weird‑looking, bleary, red‑eyed English guy.
I asked if he’d just arrived.
He said yes, but it had taken him four hours to get from the airport. I was confused, as it had taken us 30 minutes.
Judging by his state, I think he’d walked it, stopping at several bars, smoked a fistful of Jamaican home‑grown and quite possibly got acquainted with a working girl.
He then passed out and didn’t wake up for the entire 36 hours we were in Amsterdam. He didn’t start to smell, so one assumes he was still alive.
Anne Frank – and the world’s most famous attic
The Anne Frank Museum is moving and fascinating.
Located in the house where Anne and her family hid from the Germans for two years, the annex is surprisingly spacious and functional. But the constant fear of being caught, the need to remain quiet, in the dark, holed inside for years must have been torturous.
Their hiding place was eventually found, and Anne was sent to Auschwitz, where she later died shortly before the war ended. Her father was the only survivor of the eight stowaways, and when he read Anne’s diary, he fulfilled her dream of having it published.
Berlin: Christmas Ghost Town
From Amsterdam we flew to Berlin.
I’d been once before and had a good time, but this visit was different.
We arrived on Christmas Eve in freezing weather with snow on the ground. Nearly everything was closed and the city felt like a ghost town.
We visited Checkpoint Charlie, now just a tourist attraction with dressed‑up soldiers posing for photos and the chance to get your passport stamped.
Visiting the Berlin Wall was a must-do on our list.
Only a handful of sections remain, and it’s hard to imagine the psychological power such a structure had as it divided a city and its families for 28 years until its fall in 1989.
Today the wall is covered in graffiti art with humanitarian messages of freedom and never again. It’s a stark reminder of how brutal humans can treat each other.
Prague: Gothic Beauty and Packed Squares
It was a 4.5‑hour train ride from Berlin to Prague, where we met some friends.
I’d been to the Czech Republic twice before but never to the capital. It was packed with tourists, but for good reason. It’s a beautiful city.
The Old Town Square is stuffed with wonky buildings, an old clock tower, churches and gothic architecture. The views from the tower are great and looking down at the square and the warren of narrow streets, you can imagine how it looked 600 or 700 years ago.
Bratislava: Still Grey, Still Wet
In 2003 I arrived in Bratislava by train and was greeted by grey, wet, drab streets.
Things hadn’t changed much ten years later.
After our four‑hour train ride we walked out into the same dreary scene looking for a place to stay.
Tired and getting wet, we jumped into the first hotel and got a decent rate at the Mercure right by the station.
Bratislava is Slovakia’s capital. The old town is fairly nice, but aside from that there’s not much going on. We spent a day wandering around and eating before heading off on an hour‑long bus ride across the border to Vienna.
Vienna: Grand Buildings, Little Buzz
Vienna was another city I’d visited before and not found much to do. Same again this time. Maybe I’m just getting miserable in my old age, but again there wasn’t much happening. I’m not really a city person and here we were traipsing around European cities.
Vienna has some grand buildings, sure, but apart from a big cathedral and endless Mozart souvenirs, I find it quite dull.
There’s a distinct lack of nightlife in the centre too, but we sniffed out one cool tiny bar, met up with our friends from Prague again and had a good night out.
Ljubljana and Lake Bled: Always Worth Returning To
We caught two trains to Slovenia’s wonderful capital Ljubljana, 5.5 hours away. I’d been twice before and always enjoyed it. It was good to be back in one of my favourite European countries.
We stayed in Celica Hostel, once a prison but now each cell has been converted into a room with its own unique design by a local artist.
Whenever I’m asked by someone for suggestion on a weekend break – my first response is always Ljubljana and Lake Bled.
Lake Bled is less than an hour by car from the capital. We planned to hire a car but every agent had sold out, was closed or was charging a fortune.
At Sixt, a couple in front of us took the last car. It looked like we were stuck in Ljubljana for a few days, as buses were hardly running.
I asked the couple where they were heading. They were going to Bled too, so we chipped in for fuel and jumped in with them.
Lake Bled is like a fairy tale. A beautiful alpine lake surrounded by snow‑capped mountains, with a castle perched high on a cliff and a tiny island in the centre with a fairy‑tale church only accessible by boat. It’s one of Europe’s most romantic spots.
We walked the two‑hour trail around the lake before finally sorting a hire car.
Soca Valley: Cheap Wine and Stranger Locals
We headed off to the Soca Valley, a scenic drive along mountain roads with snow‑capped peaks either side.
We stopped in a small town called Kobarid and checked into a cheap apartment.
The owner was downstairs drinking with old men in the bar. I reluctantly gave her my passport. The state she was in didn’t fill me with confidence, but she handed us both a Jaegermeister to calm our nerves.
It was a strange town.
We were served by a sarcastic waiter who hated that I drank red wine with fish, and later by a miserable teenager who poured us ridiculously cheap, disgusting wine.
Back at the hotel bar, the party was in full swing.
The locals were either asleep in their seats or singing loudly. Our lady owner was nowhere to be seen. I suspect she’d collapsed behind the bar, leaving the locals to pour for themselves.
On checkout the next morning, the same men were still in the same chairs with beers in hand for breakfast. I got my passport and we left.
New Year’s Eve in Ljubljana
We were back in Ljubljana for New Year’s Eve and met up with a bunch of couchsurfers for the night.
We met them in a disused warehouse that looked more like a squatters’ den, with a couple of fold‑up tables and a broken toilet. We met people from all over the world, drank in the warehouse, then headed out for fireworks just before midnight.
We got split up from the group, but caught some live music on the outdoor stages before returning to the warehouse, where most people had recongregated.
More booze, more nibbles, more stories. It was a great night with very friendly people.
Heading Home
New Year’s Day was spent eating brownies in a café before flying back to London.
It had been a flying visit to each place, but an enjoyable trip.
I love travelling by train, and in Europe it’s so accessible.
The ability to pass through different cultures, foods and languages at such short distances is something we’re hugely going to miss living in New Zealand.
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