Friday, November 7, 2008

The World Bratislava is Mud-licious & Puddle-Wonderful

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(with apologies to e.e. cummings)

To the best of my knowledge e.e. cummings never came to Bratislava because if he did - and I'm pretty sure he didn't - there would be a bronze sculpture of him somewhere in the old city. Bratislava seems pretty desperate eager to commemorate visits by the famous and not-so famous, and at this very moment I am waiting eagerly by the phone for my own appointment with a master sculptor - although I think that Pán Kocúr's ATM machine which robbed us of our savings would suit immortality better than me. In fact, I would like to be the one to pour a few tons of molten bronze on top of it - just to show that there are no hard feelings.

But I digress.

Mud. There is much mud in the city these days and it has nothing to do with the unseasonably warm weather we've been experiencing. The mud that I'm talking about can be found in inflatable wading pools.

Allow me to explain:

A few weekends ago, Pán K, a fellow colleague and I went to a Mexican restaurant/bar (rather "Mexican" restaurant/bar - as taco wings and my favourite, Lady's Hair Chicken, figure on the menu) to have some light refreshment. The fact that it was named Hysteria (instead of, say, El Diablo or El Toro) should have set off warning bells but it came highly recommended and we were stricken by a great thirst. As we looked for seats, we couldn't help but notice that a giant blue wading pool-like apparatus was being inflated near the bar. It's probably for mud wrestling, I said flippantly. Flippantly because this is, after all, a family restaurant.

Needless to say, within five minutes of my flippant comment, Two Bikini'd Young Things appeared in the room next to ours, where a
Group of Admirers of the Female Form - who were probably on their tenth rum and coke by this time - awaited said arrival with robust and undisguised enthusiasm. We watched as the Two Bikini'd Young Things removed what little they were wearing, pulled one lucky admirer to his feet, removed his t-shirt and jeans, and drew him into what was clearly now an inflatable wading pool filled with mud.

Now let me interrupt myself. Having been shorted a few Culture Cards by the Tourism Gods (clearly they were slipped to Prague when Bratislava wasn't looking), this tiny capital city that no one can find on a map has rebounded by becoming a destination point for stag parties. Indeed, Bratislava has become more than just a blip on the map of what is called "stag tourism" - some 1-2,000 Admirers of the Female Form can be found stumbling about the old city on any given weekend during Stag Season. What with cheap flights from the UK and even cheaper pints of Slovak and Czech beer, the city has become a weekend for debauchery, memorialized by thousands of disposable cameras belonging to the world's misguided and brain-dead bridegrooms and groomsmen. In 2007, the court here sentenced one 25-year old Brit to two months in prison for frolicking naked masturbating in a fountain. I can only hope that the fountain had been free of goldfish at the time.

Want to come to Bratislava and make an idiot of yourself? - websites abound which are dedicated to ensuring that, on the cusp of your nuptials, "a beautiful babe [will] take all her clothes off and slide naked over your body!" You and ten mates can get all mud-licious for a mere 625 euros. Fun! Of course, there are lots of other wholesome activities you can choose, but for the most part, the common denominators seem to be beer and naked girls. Of all the companies that promise to make a bride regret having said I do, my favourite is Bratislava Pissup with its signature Steak & Tits special. Sort of says it all (she shudders).

So as we gulped out beer, we watched in horror, delight, and disbelief (there were three of us after all), as the Two Naked Young Things romped about in the mud, sat on each other's faces, ground their netherbits, wrestled - all the while probably trying to remember when their term papers on Early Modern Poetry & the Industrial Revolution were due - and helped make true the dreams of a Group of Admirers of the Female Form - who were probably on their twelfth rum and coke by this time. This in a family restaurant! I could have brought my mother here, I whispered to my companions.

Indeed. I'm just glad that I didn't order the Lady's Hair Chicken.

5 comments:

Cath said...

The 1980s called. They want their mud wrestlers back.

Mačka in Slovak said...

I can make sure they're on the next Greyhound out of town.

Snowflake said...

This is the best one yet. I think it's time to go.....there is just too much culture there. I hope GB wasn't there to witness it.

Mačka in Slovak said...

Fortunately GB wasn't there but he got wind of it. I keep forgetting he's one of the 4 individuals (and only bear) who reads this blog.

Di Mackey said...

Seems a wee bit different to Spain and Morocco then?

Thanks for the final image ...