Boarding Now On Flights of Fancy

The cheap-flights craze has critics. Many say the publicized fares -- often advertised for literally a few dollars -- are deceptive because they don't include considerable taxes and fees. The least expensive flights tend to leave around 6 a.m., and hour-long bus rides to outlying airports at that hour can dim the appeal. These carriers also have minimal staff and rely on online booking; they often charge per-minute rates to talk to an airline employee by phone. And a growing chorus is saying emissions from increased air traffic are harmful to the environment.

But the boom goes on, especially in the 10 countries -- including Slovakia -- that joined the European Union in 2004. In the first year after Slovakia joined, air passenger traffic to Bratislava soared by more than 70 percent, bringing in hundreds of thousands of new travelers, airport officials said.

One recent Friday afternoon at Stansted Airport, 35 miles north of London, Louise Ashford, 19, a British college student in the check-in line for a Ryanair flight to Bratislava, said she was going because "it was the most interesting cheap flight I could find."

Ashford said she had visited Paris, Amsterdam, Rome, Nice and Malaga, and read on the Internet that Bratislava -- in a country that was part of the Soviet bloc until 1989 -- "has cool architecture."

As she walked onto a Boeing 737 jet, four of her male friends practiced saying, " S tyri piva " -- Slovak for "four beers." Edd Claringbold, a zoology student at Nottingham University, said he could easily spend $180 on a night out in London, and that was his total budget for the long weekend in Bratislava -- flights, $1 beers and $10-a-night hostel included.

"It's cheaper to fly out of London than to stay in London," agreed Ashford, settling into a seat -- there are no seat assignments -- in Row 27. "We are saving money by going abroad."

Ten rows ahead, Rozario Chivers and his girlfriend, Jenny Savander, were also eagerly awaiting their first night in Bratislava. "I don't know much about the city. A friend of a friend said it was good, and so off we go," said Chivers, 35, a Web site designer. With $72 roundtrip tickets, he said, he thought it was certainly worth a long weekend.

Bratislava, which was part the former Czechoslovakia until 1993, has a small, charming city center with grand, centuries-old buildings, an ancient stone castle and new high-end restaurants with white-linen tablecloths. Mayor Andrej Durkovsky said that a couple of years ago tourists were typically "senior age tourists mostly from German-speaking countries coming here by boat" and leaving the same day. But now, he said, the city, and particularly its hotels and restaurants, are "cashing in" on planeloads of tourists who "are discovering Bratislava, putting it literally on the international map."

Barbara Lisa is among the locals who started a company in response. She runs Stag Bratislava, which caters to the fast-growing custom of British men going abroad for bachelor parties. She arranged weekends for 2,000 of them last year and estimates that several thousand more booked through other tourist companies. The men in one memorable group dressed as Superman, Batman and other comic book superheroes.

"This is very good for Bratislava," said Lisa, who expressed confidence that Burridge and his good-natured friends will get the word out about her city. Right now, she said, many foreigners can't locate it on a map: "When I would say I am from Slovakia, people would say, 'Czechoslovakia? Yugoslavia?' "

On the weekend Burridge and his friends were in town, Lisa and her cadre of female guides shepherded five groups of British men who picked from activities ranging from "steak dinner with stripper" to driving a Soviet-era tank. Burridge's group decided to go a shooting range where they fired Glocks and Scorpion submachineguns. After shooting, they raced go-karts and, between beers, chatted about how much fun it was to be spending a weekend 800 miles from home.

That night, Burridge was dressed as a woman again and his friends each wore dramatic black wigs for a trip to Charlie's disco, because, as one explained, "We all have to look foolish."

Burridge, who was born in Wales, where there are more sheep than people, was ordered to carry an inflatable sheep around for the night.

Even though Charlie's was dimly lit, the locals eyed them up and down as they ordered vodka drinks. "It's about fun and doing things you won't do again," said Burridge, his blonde wig slightly askew.

The next morning, as he headed to the airport for the flight home, he said he was a bit under the weather. But, he said, "I want to get married after this."