After three days in Bratislava of soaking up the sights, sounds, food, and centuries of history, it was time to return to Vienna, then on to the enigmatic Balkan country of Romania for a few weeks of exploring.
I bid a fond farewell to the staff at the hostel, then hopped on a trolley and headed for the train station.
Buying a train ticket back to Vienna at the old station turned out to be a linguistic challenge. I looked around for a young person with cell phone in hand, figuring they likely knew some English and might be able to help translate.
I found such a young man who helped me quickly acquire a ticket. When I complimented him on his English, he thanked me with a smile, and said he watches lots of online movies in English. He politely excused himself and rushed for his train.
While waiting to board my train, I pondered a massive communist-era mural on a wall of the main hall above the entrance to the platforms. It had many hallmarks of socialist thought, including a proud steel mill worker holding tools, and the red banner of socialism with doves flying above.
As the sun lowered in the sky, I boarded my train for a relaxing one hour journey back to Vienna. Vienna – a place where glaring vestiges of the Cold War communist era are non-existent, and communication is easier for me because of German being rooted in Latin as is my native tongue of English.
As my train rumbled over the tracks on the way back to Vienna, small villages nestled among individual plots of well-tended farmland gradually gave way to large stretches of barren land, and eventually, city lights.
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