Krampus, The Castle and Pus Sticks

"BB gun this year eh Gingersnap?  I think you'd better ask for some new ears instead" SNAP!

Things not looking too rosie here either

In Alpine countries during the Christmas season, they take the old "be good or Santa won't give you any presents" child control technique about 100 steps further.  Not only will you no longer get a Barbie Private Jet from good old Saint Nick, but you may in actual fact get a little visit from a more sinister Yuletide character.   He goes by the name of "Krampus", and he also has free access to everyone's living rooms on the night of December 24th.  Krampus is no softy either.  Forget missing out.  You are put either in a sack to be taken back to his lair to be eaten, or loaded into the bathtub he often carries on his back for the specific purpose of drowning naughty children.  He is also known to carry children off on a one way ticket to hell - another cheery option.  I bet those unfortunates really regretted not tidying their bedrooms after Mummy asked them to do so three times.  Hell for eternity does seem a rather intense response to that though.......According to a series of very popular 1800s postcards, other wholesome activities Krampus enjoyed were ripping pigtails out, leading children off a cliff, sadistic ear-pulling, putting pre-teens in shackles, forcing children to beg for mercy, and drowning children to death in ink and fishing out the corpse with a pitchfork.  And I thought it was all about gingerbread, eggnog and Ho ho ho's around here.

why send a baby Jesus card when you can go with this?

This is the kind of thing that terrifies me, and I know it's a mask

The first two weeks of December is when Krampus really gets centre stage in Austrian cities, and particularly on December 5th.  The streets are full of young men, totally pissed, dressed up like the scariest monster you can imagine.  They are rattling chains, whipping kids and young women with birch sticks, and generally being so terrifying that the streets run brown with the shit of fearful under twelves.  Sounds like a great party.  I'm in.  Jeeze, if we are blown away as to how successful we are in gaining child control with the calls to Santa, imagine if we started texting Krampus, and urging him to pay a visit.  The mind boggles with thoughts of child cruelty.  My meanness is already haunting me, as Valli panicked with a "Pleeeeease....Noooooo" with a little tear on her cheek when I got my mobile out yesterday.  I was only checking the time.

I just don't remember him from the Hobart Christmas Pageants

The tongue seems to be a theme here

Old City Bratislava

Speaking of haunting, I got my wish, and on our last day in Austria we decided to hire a car and visit Slovakia.  We headed first to Bratislava which was an hour away.  Amazing how you can drive for an hour and everything can be so incredibly different.  I'm not just talking about the language either.  The city seemed to still have that hangover from 40 years or so of Communist rule.  The grimness, the shabbiness, the poverty.  It made me realise again, just how affluent Austria is.  Startlingly obvious.  It's also interesting that it's been nearly 30 years since Slovakia broke free of the Iron Curtain, but still, the effects persist.  I liked it there though.  There are still some really pretty buildings and areas.  The Old City for instance is gorgeous. The Christmas market in the old town square was especially old fashioned and festive.  Crepes seemed to be a popular choice, as were meat and onions in bread rolls, authentic toffee apples, and more bloody mulled wine.

Chocolate crepe = 30 hysterical laps around a fountain

The sugar rush was undeniable.  And immediate

Iceskating in town - one day girls

There she blows

Aerial perspective

But, lets not lag too long.  I had a date with the ghost of the Blood Countess, and was running late.  I really didn't want to be stumbling over the ruin in the dark....I could fall through a concealed shaft onto a giant pile of the bones of 650 peasant girls.  It gets dark here early at this time of year.  By half past four it's already stumble time.  Cachtice wasn't that far from Bratislava - maybe 50 minutes.  As we drove into the town I spotted the ruin up on top of a hill.  It was huge.  At least we had an idea of what direction to drive in.  But surprise of all surprises, there was a small sign that said "Kastel".  So much for not being able to drive there.  The approach was eerie.  Very Blair Witch, with that grim spindly forest look.  My heart was actually racing (I told you I'm a complete history nerd).  We drove up to the former castle of Elizabeth Bathory, and what should greet us at the end of the road?  A wire fence, with about fifteen bits of shabby dirty paper stuck to the fence in a variety of different languages that simply said "The Castle is Closed".  Fuck.  They weren't taking any chances, there way no way you could have claimed not to understand the meaning of a fence, a large number of multi-lingual signs and a barbed wire side blockage.

Notice the naughty boy behind the fence that says "Closed"

This is it....here I go

People had been over though.  By the looks of it, they'd pushed down the wire and hauled themselves in.  Pretty stupid really.  The fence didn't quite reach the other end, so it was easy to walk around the side of it with little effort.  Look, after making the journey, there was no way any line-toeing was going to happen.  "We'll just walk up a little way"  we said to each other.  We had to keep the car in sight as the rug rats were out cold.  It was definitely a bit spooky.  The light was fading, and the castle was so isolated.  Perched up on top of a high hill, you could easily imagine how Elizabeth Bathory had command of the surrounding country and it's inhabitants.  The tiny village of Cachtice seemed insignificant, almost cowering in the valley below.  It certainly was in ruins though.  I don't think it survived the final sacking it received in the early 1700s and since that time it has been left pretty much to decay.

I've got chills, they're multiplying

It was fascinating though.  I really love how sometimes you can just let your imagination go wild and try to reconstruct what it must have looked like in it's heyday.  While on Ghosthunters International, the stellar team of fearless paranormal experts actually gained access to the cellars and tunnels below the castle.  This is where the tortures were said to have occurred.  I didn't actually want to go down - just to see the entrance would have been chillingly satisfying enough.  We went under a small tunnel, and it opened up into the central courtyard of the old castle.  Chalky said to me "Imagine if an old hunchback came shuffling over?" and at that exact moment we heard voices.  Oh Jesus!  There was a small group of men standing in one of the corners of the courtyard.  We spun on a dime and tried to tiptoe out of there.  My boots were of the clomping kind.  Thus, there was a "HIE"!!! and the sound of thumping footsteps.  We bolted.  They were after us, yelling, and it wasn't a good thing.   We ran all the way down the hill as fast as we could, and squeezed around the fence.  I yelled "Unlock the doors, unlock the doors".  Chalks accidentally popped the boot.  Boot was slammed, doors were unlocked, engine was started and accelerator was stepped on.  As our car sped away into the gloom, we didn't even look back.  Valli and Cordi = asleep as usual.

Well, it wasn't exactly the unearthing of new evidence, apparitions, landing on bones, or viewing Elizabeth's walled up prison tower - but it sure was thrilling.  Where did those people come from? - That's want I want to know.  There were no parked cars there or anything.  Not one in the near vicinity.  It was strange.  On the way up to the castle,  we talked about how if it was in the US,  it would be a Horror Themed Disneyland or something.....rides, souvenirs, reconstruction, wax models of peasants on the torture devices complete with screaming soundtrack.  And in the gift shop - Lizzy  B fake blood capsules, and mini torture weapons for mantlepiece displays.  But here in Slovakia, nothing.  Barely even a sign.  As I've said before, the Cachtice villagers don't want the attention the castle brings.  There were two nasty incidents - namely a group of con artists who pretended they were making a movie about "The Blood Countess", and took advantage of not just young women who wanted to be actresses, but other villagers who'd scored a "role" too.  A man actually pulled his front teeth out so he would resemble one of the Countesses accomplices.  Dumb move dude.  Also, the townspeople in general, felt like real idiots, because they had provided the "film crew" with free accommodation and food for quite a considerable time.  I think it still remains a sorepoint, although it happened over 40 years ago.

The other incident involved the theft of the only known, and original portrait of The Bloody Lady herself.  It was stolen from the Mayors office about 15 years ago, never to be seen again.

Who knows - maybe they'll restore it to it's former impressive appearance afterall

But now, they might see the benefits of this association with the, so called, worst female serial killer in known history.  The castle is now closed for restoration until 2014.  Cachtice might get a Horror Theme Disneyland after all.  What a shame.  Hopefully the restoration work will only make the ruins safe for all the macabre obsessed tourists who like climbing all over it - I really could have been in danger of falling onto some 500 year old skeletons.  Anyway, it remains to be seen.  I'm glad we went there though.  It was fascinating.

It's all in the presentation - the cream is the tastiest thing in sight

The next day it was auf wiedersehn to the land of Krampus, Kasekrainer (cheese filled sausages lovingly referred to as "pus sticks" by the locals) and Sachertorte (I don't rate this either - as my friend says, there is nothing remarkable about dry chocolate cake with raspberry jam in the middle).  We were off to the first English speaking country we've been in for four months.  Thank fuckery for that.  I'm sick of being viewed as a pitiful dummy.  Can't wait to say "top of the morning" to everyone, and swan around eavesdropping on people's conversations again.  Also, if we do any trespassing here we'll be able to understand the abuse hurled at us as we run for our lives......ah the good times.

Pus Sticks - It helps to be pissed.  (I think that's the advertising slogan)