Slovakia: Mortal fear takes a lot of energy

The cocoa was as thick as a melted candy bar. I looked out the window of the chalet and watched the swirls of snow blow down the steep Slovak mountainside.

“I still can’t believe this place exists,” Suzy exclaimed. A bit of foam from her cappuccino was stuck to her lip.

“I know! It is crazy to think we were freezing up this mountain and felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, and now here is a wonderful chalet complete with the best cocoa I’ve ever had in my life!”

“I wonder how they got all the supplies up here?”

“I don’t know, mountain goats?” With regret, I looked down to see that my cocoa was gone. “We should probably go though. It will get dark soon.”

Outside the chalet, we were pelted with wind. The chalet was between two mountain peaks which formed a wind tunnel. I heard an engine in the distance and saw a Jeep coming up the mountain: there was a road to the chalet! Incredible. “Well that solves the supplies mystery.” I said to Suzy and walked out.

A sudden gale of wind blew, its force hitting me like a linebacker. Suddenly, I was being pushed across the road! I could see the edge of the cliff coming towards me. I didn’t even have enough time to be scared, I just dumbly watched the cliff come closer.

“Fall down!” Screamed Suzy.

That seemed like my only option. I dropped to my knees and continued sliding on the ice. One of my water bottles fell out of my bag and rolled off the cliff. It was so steep I couldn’t hear the bottle land. At that instant, the Jeep arrived. It must not have seen me with the blowing snow. It skidded to a stop, its tire a foot from my chest.

The driver must have felt badly for almost killing me. He saw that my second water bottle was blowing around in the road and got out of his Jeep, his Slovak sounded apologetic. He was starting to get blown around. I feared he be launched over the cliff’s edge as well.

“It’s not worth it!” I cried.

He clutched on to the side of his Jeep and staggered towards me with the bottle.

“Thank you, thank you!” I said.

He got back into his Jeep and I crawled back to Suzy.

“I don’t know if we can make it down tonight!”

Suzy furrowed her brow. “The chalet costs $75 a night and we’ve already paid eight bucks to stay in our pension. You can stay here if you are too scared, but I will have to go down the mountain.”

“Don’t be crazy, I’m not letting you walk alone. Also, after that cocoa I’m down to $20. I think that if we link arms and stay on this side of the road we should be fine!”

And that’s what we did, arm-in-arm like the Scarecrow and the cowardly lion.

We made it to our pension two hours after dark.

The friendly receptionist Olga looked up from her Slovak- English dictionary. “You ok?”

I wasn’t sure. My leg was hurting increasingly on the hike down. I lifted my pant leg. It was bleeding a lot.

Olga made sympathetic clucking noises and flipped through her book. “Um, Doc-tor?”

“No, no thank you.” Wait, in Slovak “no” means “yes.” “I mean…” and then I shook my head “no” vigorously, hoping that was a universal gesture.  

Olga pulled out a bottle from under the cash register and filled up a large glass.

She searched her book. “For clean?” she said. “And Appy New Year?”

She passed it to us. It was probably at least half a liter of vodka.

“Thank you!”

Exhausted, Suzy and I went down to our basement bunk beds, the cheapest room in the house. I used the smallest amount of vodka on my wounds so that we could toast.

“Happy New Year!” I said, then held the vodka in my mouth while she took a sip from the same glass so we could drink together.

“Happy New Year! Thank you so much for coming on this trip with me!”

“I wonder if there are any parties nearby?”

“I’d be down to look! I just need to rest my eyes first.”

“Me too.”

We both feel asleep before ten. Mortal fear takes a lot of energy.

We were on the train headed back to Berlin, where Suzy was studying abroad. Every seat was taken in our car. I felt a tap on my shoulder. An angry looking couple stood in front of us waving their tickets. We looked at them.

“Oh my God!” Suzy gasped. “We got on the train the wrong day! What will we do?”

“Quick, let’s run to the dining car before they tell the conduc-“

We had jumped out of our seats and ran right into a very gruff looking conductor. We showed him our tickets, and said “We are so sorry! We made a mistake, we don’t have any money for more tickets!”

He made us walk in front of him and pushed us towards the door. He spoke with another conductor. It sounded like he was arranging for us to be dropped off at the next stop.

I panicked. “Please don’t kick us off!” I sobbed. A female conductor walked by and asked what was happening. She shook her head at the men and pushed us along towards the front of the train. I didn’t know what to expect, was she going to kick us off too?

We arrived at the dining car. “You stay!” she barked as though we were petulant puppies.

“Yes ma’am.” I blinked around. It was 8 AM according to the Soviet-looking clock on the wall. A couple with a cherubic kid were the only customers, and they were breakfasting on cornflakes and orange juice.

“I wonder if our welcome depends on if we buy something.”

“I only have 20 korunas left, you?

“I only have 5.”

That was about a dollar. We had spent everything and were planning on eating trail mix until we got back to Germany.

I squinted at the menu. “I think the only thing we can afford is Saris.”

“The 12% alcohol beer?” Suzy said incredulously.

“Ahem,” the staff behind the counter cleared his throat impatiently, making the decision for us.

We sipped the beer to take the edge off our anxiety than stopped, so that we could keep a mostly full beverage before us. The train slowed to a stop. Suzy took my hand under the table and we looked down, praying that the conductor wouldn’t come for us.

After what felt like forever, the train lurched forward again.

“Phew” I took a big sip of beer.  

The mother looked over at us. I worried she would object to our breakfast drinking in front of her kid. But then she turned away, looking bored. She’d probably seen worse.