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Previous trip journal entries:

Pre-trip post

Part 1 – Travel and Day 1 in Budapest

Part 2 – Day 2 in Budapest

Interlude – Why?

Part 3 – Days 3 & 4 in Budapest 

Part 4 – Travel to Bratislava

Part 5 – Getting out of the City

Interlude – The Blood Countess (content warning: descriptions of violence and personal issues)

So here I was, at the beginning of a trail into the woods. In Central Europe. With a small town straight out of my fantasy novels behind me – braying animals, the smell of burning wood, and a bridge over a small stream included – and centuries old castle ruins above me. The feeling was surreal. The part of me that was brainwashed as a child into thinking that I couldn’t so shit like this on my own, that something horrible was going to happen to me, and what was I thinking anyway, tried to rear its ugly head. But I firmly crushed it down by telling it I’d dreamed about this long enough and that there was no reason for anything horrible to happen.

I started walking, occasionally looking back at the cute little town until the trail had twisted enough so that I couldn’t see it anymore. Google Maps had indicated that this trail went all the way across the mountain and down, but that about half way there, there was a turn off that would lead straight to the castle. I had a feeling that once I was well on the path, I wouldn’t be able to rely on Google Maps, though. Sure enough, about 10 minutes later, I encountered an unmarked turn off before I got to the spot where the turn off was supposed to be according to the map. It looked like it would lead straight to the castle, but it was very steep. At this point, my heart was already pounding and I was already sweating from the moderate climb from Višnové. I figured there must be an “official” turn off somewhere so I stayed on the main trail.

At some point, maybe another 10 minutes later, a bit AFTER where the map said a trail should have turned off toward the castle, a couple of hikers passed me. I considered asking them if they knew which was the best way to go. But I was so out of breath, and my cheat sheet seemed to far away. I looked up and it seemed that I was going away from the castle. And the trail ahead of me seemed to curve downward. So I decided to backtrack and attempt that steep climb.

This was another one of the best decisions of my life.

It was a challenge. I was scared. I was out of practice with hiking up hills and with exercise, period. Would I give myself a heart attack? Would I slip, fall, and break a limb, with no one coming by any time soon to help me? I could still hear the animals in the village, so I supposed I could call for help and someone would hear. But still. I had no idea what kind of animals were in these mountains. Would this little trail end before I got to the castle, leaving me stuck to make my way back down, which is even scarier and harder than going up?

But I did it anyway. About halfway up, I remembered to be amazed at where I was and I stopped being scared. There was no rush. I could take a break every 5 minutes if I wanted to – and I did. I needed to. My heart was pounding pretty much the whole way up. I don’t exercise much! While hiking, I made sure to not look up or down to avoid tripping on something. But when I stopped for my breaks, I basked in the view below – this small fantasy town looking more and more picturesque as I got further up – and the view above – this castle that I’d been reading about, in fiction and non-fiction, for over 20 years.

For a while, the trail went through a wooded area. Then, near the top of the mountain, there were no trees and I could clearly see both above and below. You can see the exposed part of the trail in the picture that accompanies Wikipedia’s article on the castle – zoom in on the picture and look to the right.

Near the beginning of the trail, looking back toward the villege.
Zooming in on the castle about halfway up the steep trail.
Looking back down to the village near the top of the trail.
Looking off in the distance near the top of the trail.

When I got to the top, and pulled myself up that final ridge to where I could stand firmly on relatively even ground, and had my first full view of the castle, I was elated. I remembered that this is what I used to love about hiking up mountains – something I did from time to time with my ex on much smaller mountains when we lived in Quebec’s Eastern Townships: that feeling of accomplishment and elation that comes when you reach the top. Combined with being so close to the castle that I could walk about 20 steps and touch the outer wall, this feeling of having climbed up the mountain after flying overseas to get there made me feel like I was on some kind of pilgrimage. Given my 20 year plus obsession with Bathory, I guess I was.

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I took a few minutes to sit on a bench nearby to take a breath before going in. It was then that I saw that a small sign pointing to a trail with “Višnové”. If I would’ve continued on the original path, this is probably where I would’ve wound up. Although I had panicked because the trail seemed to be going away from the castle, it probably wound it’s way up the mountain in a more gradual way. For a minute, I called myself a bonehead. But really, I didn’t regret coming up the harder way. After all, it contributed to my feeling of elation.

At this moment, I got a Facebook message from my friend, S. I was surprised, considering it was likely about 7AM in Montreal (it was noon or so in Slovakia, after Canada had sprung forward on March 13 but before Europe was springing forward on the 27th). I sent her a pic of where I was, and it apparently shows quite well the state of mind I was in at that moment.

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Before entering, I ate a banana since I knew it was going to be a while before my next meal and breakfast already felt like it was a long time ago. I thought about Bathory and how she was possibly framed, but that even if she was, she was probably pretty horrid to her servants and others. I thought about class. I thought about restrictions on sexuality. I thought about her victims – all the possible ones, in case she *wasn’t* framed and really did torture and kill over 600 young women. I hoped that all these people had found peace somehow. Even though there are people who like to say the castle is haunted, I didn’t really feel anything ominous. Of course, it was a sunny and warm day. I might have felt different if the day were gloomier, or if I were here in the evening or at night.

I went through the castle gate and tried to imagine what it would’ve looked like 400 years ago. I wandered around a bit in between the gate and the actual castle, and climbed up to walk along the wall taking in the view and already going on a picture taking rampage. I like to take a lot of pictures – what I’ve been posting on these travel logs is the tiny little tip of the iceberg! Often, I have multiple pics of the same thing, but from different angles. I like weird angles or point of view shots. I particularly like views that are through openings – and already, I was seeing a lot of windows in this wall with amazing views of the landscape. I also saw the two people that had passed me on the main trail earlier, which confirmed that that original trail did, indeed, lead to the castle. Oh well.

I finally went into the castle itself, wondering where the official entrance was. As soon as I had walked through the main door, I saw a little wooden shack, and saw a little window slide open. Two friendly faces looked out at me, and when I recited my memorized Slovakian phrase apologizing for not speaking Slovakian, the first face nodded in recognition and I realized they were probably the person that had answered the phone earlier. It was only 2.5 Euro to get in, and I got a handy dandy information sheet in English about Bathory. They also told me that I could enter the shack from the side to see what souvenirs they had. I said I would stop in on the way out, and off I went to explore.

The first thing I checked out was a little building that appeared to be a more recent construction, but made out of stone with a wooden roof to match the castle decor. Inside, there was a guestbook (which I signed, of course, along with an indication of where I was from!) and a series of about 20 panels with the history of the castle, including much information about the different owners of the castle. Of course, the Nadasdy and Bathory families were the most prominent among these. There was information about where Ferencz Nadasdy, Elizabeth Bathory’s husband, and Bathory herself were from, their coat of arms, and some important visitors such as Vlad Tepes. The informational texts were in 3 or 4 different languages: Slovakian, German, English, and … I’m not sure what the fourth was or even if there was a fourth…but if there way, it may have been Hungarian. It was interesting to see how the names were spelled in different languages. There were also plenty of images. I took a lot of pictures of these, especially the ones involving Bathory. I posted a few here. The last few panels were about Bathory’s crimes. Although there was some acknowledgement that the stories may have been exaggerated, marketing being what it is, there was a lot of implication that it was true and that we were in a grisly location indeed. However, I did find out from these panels that, although there were some “evil deeds” done in the castle itself, many of Bathory’s crimes are said to have occurred down in the village of Čachtice in the Nadasdy mansion.

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Sensationalist imagery maybe? Also an attempted panoramic shot with my phone.

Once I was done there, I went back out into the sunny day and explored the ruins. According to the history of the castle, it was attacked and left to decay in the 17th century. Still, quite a bit of the castle’s structure remains. Enough so that it was apparently used in quite a few films. The view from the castle is quite stunning in all directions. At one point, I was by a ledge where I could look down on Višnové and hear the braying animals as well as the humans who were calling out to them. I imagined what this might have been like over 400 years before, when Bathory lived here. I felt transported back in time for a moment.

I had arrived early enough in the day that there weren’t that many people yet, but there were a few others walking around, mostly in pairs. So it was nice and quiet, which was perfect for me. I enjoyed all the little details, like the old windows and other openings, archways, underground areas which could have been used as storage or . . . ?, and, most of all, how the grass had grown in among all these things.

The newer construction with all the information panels.
View from inside the main entrance.
Underground.
Underground
View from underground.
Višňové
Višňové
Underground area.

I probably spent about an hour slowly looking around, enjoying the peace and quiet, contemplating time itself, basking in just being there, savouring the moment. Eventually, I felt I had explored enough. I wanted time to explore the village of Čachtice as well. It was time to say goodbye.

On the way out, I stopped by the shack and went in to get souvenirs. I’m not usually a souvenir person, but this day being a highlight of my trip, I wanted something. I wound up getting a bunch of fridge magnets and having a nice conversation with the person who worked the souvenir counter. For the first time on this trip, someone asked me where I was from. And when I replied Canada, the person said that they had been to Vancouver and that their sister lived there! Cool.

With that, I walked away from the castle, serene and completely satisfied with my visit to where Bathory spent her last days. The hike up the hill had been worth it!

Next, I visit the town of Čachtice!