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About Banska Bystrica

So here’s the pitch, bear with me. You’re this loner, right? Kinda like Adam—tall, pale, too cool for life. But instead of guitars, you’re dodgin’ cops, lookin’ for a hooker in some gritty city. Maybe Detroit, ‘cause Jarmusch loves that decay aesthetic. You’re wanderin’, hearin’ that line in my skull—“When you separate an entwined particle…”—and I’m thinkin’, yeah, this guy’s entangled, alright! With dames, with trouble, with his own damn misery. Pretty, pretty good setup, huh? I’m pattin’ myself on the back already.

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Then, I decided to check out the Modra pottery shops. OMG, the stuff there is gorgeous! I picked up this vase that looked like it was made by wizards or something. But then, I dropped it. Yup, shattered into a million pieces. I was like, “Nooooo!” The shop owner just stared at me, and I felt like a total klutz. I offered to pay, but she just laughed it off. “It happens,” she said. I mean, who breaks pottery in a pottery shop? Me, apparently.

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