Vienna today is pure white. All the way on the A4 to Bratislava the landscape is white on white on white. The wind farms stood in the whiteness like giant spikes punctuating the winter landscape. The roads were clear so passage was easy, which made up for the long delay from London Heathrow. The Austrian Airline flight OS452 from London Heathrow to Vienna International was delayed, once again, for more than an hour. Since time immemorial, this flight has never been on time. It is always late due to the delay of the incoming flight. If there is any predictability about air travel, then the delay of this flight surely tops the predictability list. The flight was nearly empty and a fellow passenger was heard requesting to change his seat. "We can't change your seat because that will upset the loading", the stewardess apologised.
My usual hotel is full so I am overnighting at this boutique hotel, not too far from the Old Town. The reception comprises of one lady and one bellhop. The rooms are small, almost of doll house dimensions but some would charitably it describe as cosy. The dining room is cavernous and looked empty. Service was attentive and a trifle obsequious. But I did not have the appetite to walk into the old town in sub zero temperatures.
In the hotel on the first floor there is a Summer Terrace where guests no doubt can go and have a smoke. Tonight, the entire terrace was covered in pristine snow, almost like a vision in white. It is a strange and eerie feeling to be surrounded by such an abundance of snow, to be cut off from the hustle and bustle of city life, and to be able to take a brief stop to marvel at the stillness of a garden in complete solitude.
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| Restaurant at Marrols Hotel, Bratislava |
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| Summer Terrace, Marrols Hotel, Bratislava |
In the hotel on the first floor there is a Summer Terrace where guests no doubt can go and have a smoke. Tonight, the entire terrace was covered in pristine snow, almost like a vision in white. It is a strange and eerie feeling to be surrounded by such an abundance of snow, to be cut off from the hustle and bustle of city life, and to be able to take a brief stop to marvel at the stillness of a garden in complete solitude.
