Wolfsthal is a small village on the Austrian-Slovakian border. In the Iron Curtain days it was a real backwater, now it’s a thriving suburb of Bratislava, and very nice.
The hotel was also full of taxidermy.
That’s Hainburg on the hill.
I made a friend.
I guarantee you a Slovak owns this house rather than an Austrian. They love purple and lime green in Slovakia. Austrians love beige.
You can see Wolfsthal is a tough place.
Bratislava on the horizon. It must have been strange if you lived here in the Iron Curtain days, seeing this major city every day that you couldn’t visit. I imagined some teenager in Kittsee or Wolfsthal in the 70s or 80s daydreaming of this mirage of a city so close, that could never disappoint you like the real and very visitable Vienna, an hour away on the train.
The local transport links are still a bit weird. You can get to Vienna or Bratislava very easily, but local small towns aren’t always joined up. The school in the next village was on a totally different train line to Wolfsthal, and instead we had to get a bus that went all round the houses, and for some reason twice to the Coca-Cola factory to get there.
The vegetarian options at the hotel. A fine smažak (deep-fried cheese).
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