Banská Štiavnica

Slovakia

“And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.”

Sylvia Plath

We sleep in. Both keen for a walk, but to start the day means we are taking the first step towards leaving.

I don’t want to leave Modra just yet.

Today’s walk is on the other side of the town. There is an ancient tree in Modra, Jarabina Oskorušová, the service tree. Listed as endangered, the tree we are looking for today is between 300 and 500 years old.

We walk the track out of town, and Shell sees it from the track; the path is barely a game trail.

The Service tree is huge. You can almost feel its age. It is majestic and beautiful.

We walk through the vineyards, eating from the fruit trees and brambles as we go. Shell prefers the berries; I like the sharp plums and loquots.

As we make our way home past our car, I notice the wheel is clamped. Is this a sign that we will not be leaving Modra today?

I call the Policajný to have it removed. The parking ticket I printed yesterday shows we are paid up until lunch today, so I am sure it is a misunderstanding.

The officer does not have the best English, and my Slovak is nonexistent. Eventually, he explains that you can only book one day at a time. Even trying to argue that the ticket machine allowed me to book two days is futile. I pay the fine, 20 Euros, and we are free to go.

Breakfast is the same as yesterday: Cuvée for eggs and ham and coffees.

A detour before Banská Štiavnica. Shell loves a castle, and Červený Kameň Hrad is only ten minutes out of our way.

We take a good look around. Rachelle refuses to do tours, but there is enough for us to see. She is fearless in these places. I notice a sign that says ‘enter at your own risk,’ and she is already heading down the steep stairs. There is a tiny hole in the wall leading into pitch blackness, hardly big enough for a child, and she is climbing through.

Built in the mid 13th century as part of a series of castles connected by a continuous wall to protect Bratislava and the region from the Ottoman Empire. I guess the anti immigration vibes in these parts have some history.

We have a three hour drive to Banská Štiavnica. Mostly flat, but the last 17 km is up and up. We arrive at 620 m above sea level in a UNESCO listed village.

It is quite stunning. Our room is excellent, with a small kitchen, and we open onto a large garden. We put some wine in the fridge for this evening and head to lunch.

RUINbar looks good on paper.

We arrived at 2.00 pm, order some beers, and were told the wait would be around half an hour. No problem.

We ordered pravá talianska paradajková polievka each to start. For mains, Shell ordered the tradičné bryndzové pirohy s vypečenou slaninkou and I ordered the špagety s mäsovými guľkami.

Several beers later, and it has been over an hour. The tomato soup hasn’t even arrived. Our waiter speaks Ukrainian, Polish, and Slovak. It is difficult to ask the question, but eventually he is shocked to realise the soup has not arrived.

It arrives lukewarm and has the familiar taste of Campbell’s.

The meatballs I ordered appear to be chicken breast, and the spaghetti is dressed in the soup. Shell’s dumplings are not much better. Heaping spoonfuls of sour cream do not make a sauce.

The highlight of the meal was a German wasp falling in my beer. I rescued the inebriated aprocita, and we watched it stagger over the flowers for a few minutes. Finally it attempted to take flight only to kamikaze into Shell’s wine. Another rescue and it could barely walk across the table. Finally Rachelle lost patience and sent it into the garden with a flick.

We leave to find a wine store, and suddenly Banská Štiavnica feels like a tourist destination. Everything seems low effort and geared towards visitors.

We get home; I put the wine in the fridge and wonder if I really want three nights here. The accommodation is truly beautiful, but this place has a tourist vibe. Ruinbar is highly rated, yet it was a dreadful experience. The wine store is also highly regarded, but had little to choose from.

Shell is on the same page. As mature adults, we decide to patiently discuss the pros and cons of leaving Banská Štiavnica early and returning to Modra for a night before we head back to Budapest.

Scissors, paper, rock, and I throw the last round. We are heading back to Modra on Thursday.

We listen to music and read while the wine chills.

Tonight’s wine is a 2025 Muráni Víno Čajkov Sauvignon – Nitra, Slovakia

Hunger. I walk down our street a few hundred meters for some pizza.

We meet our host, who explains he has renovated the rooms as a hobby. He also organises XTERRA, a triathlon that is offroad. A mountain bike trail, a lake swim, and trail running. It sounds exhausting. Luckily, the pizza keeps me nourished as I imagine the gruelling sport.

He takes us to the top of his property to see the view, past the giant cherry tree and Bobby the retriever. It’s almost cold at this altitude.

“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”

Marcus Aurelius