More on Budapest...

1- Continuation of an already long rant on impressions gleaned from time spent in Budapest...
2- What we DID see...
3- International public bathing...
4- Beyond the city's walls...
5- I'm WHERE???
6- Money well spent...
7- Diamond in the rough...
8- Out of the line of fire...


It takes all kinds.. I finally came to realise the expanse of truth beneath those words while travelling with a random lot of Australians last winter. And on that note, if you're reading this, Beau, you worthless son of a Mandurahn soul-chomping 2-bit career facility, I miss you, brother. Europe's just not as lively with you on the exact opposite face of the globe. And I find more and more, that when you see the world, no matter where or how much of it, as a tourist, Paul Kelly's right: Every stinking city is just the same. Budapest certainly has its elements that are indigenous, but it also has McDonald's, they play Shania Twain in the local restaurants, and a second class train ticket buys the same seat no matter the destination. So, as Beau, Sean, Sharon, and I discovered, eat at the restaurants without English names or menu (preferably, you'd ought to learn a few elemental dietary terms in the local dialect first. I did figure out that 'szalt' is Hungarian for cheese, and 'szendvich' is pretty obvious); spend some time in a park, watching the locals, ride the metro/tube/subway to the end of the line. Celine and I spent nearly all of our time trying to find teh recommendations in her 2005/6 Routard Guide (Chakun sa Router-- "Find your own way"). Unfortunately, it's already outdated. Prices have changed (For the betterment of the host nation only apparently), construction has moved, obliterated, or otherwise masked necessary landmarks, and the Art Deco exhibit at the Decorative Arts Museum that we were really excited to see has been replaced by the temporary Hungarian "Collectors and Treasures" exhibit. The TUrkish baths were twice the price we were prepared for, and thus out of our price range, and we spent teh better part of 2 days hoofing it nowhere.

The Dohany Synagogue was quite nice. Pronounced 'Do-hein' (and named for the street it's situated upon, itself named in turn for a type of Turkish tobacco), it's the largest in the world by constituents, second largest in size (after Messiah in New York). An otherwise sunny Wednesday turned sour with a sudden, unforeseen rainstorm that left us soaked and dampened, but it soon cleared again and the resultant muggy, humid steam left us vaguely dry from the heat fighting to escape our drenched persons. We ended the day having seen an Orthodox church housed within a cave on the older city's side of the Danube, the synagogue in Pest, and countless thousand of footsteps placed variously through the Hungarian urbanity.

We re-crossed the Danube on a bridge whose middle-most support was laid upon Margit Island, the local mecca for joggers. Dusk as it was, there were quite a few out, as it seems that Hungary is full of people concerned about their health and appearance. This was obvious at the Turkish bath we did finally partake in on Thursday, though most of the other patrons were octogenarians. Though the Ottoman Turks ruled what the Romans in their turn had called Pannonia, Hungary has ben under Christian, or at least non-Islamic, rule for a good three-hundred years, whereas the Baths within the city park are no more than one-hundred and forty years old at best. But the Ottoman empire and its ruling sultans still hold a reputation for opulence and luxury. We took my own advice our last day in Budapest, and rode one of the metro lines to its terminus at Mexikoi Ter (Mexico Station, I suppose), in the city park. This public green space contains the aviation museum, the agricultural museum, a lake, a carnival with rides, a zoo, and the aforementioned baths. We were so far from the typical backpacker's and tourister's centre that we heard no English for hours, but the hot mineral waters within the Moorish and neo-Classical structure wer certainly a relief from the harsh embrace of a backpack. It was only after a wrong-turn down a random corridor as we were trying to leave that we spotted the outdoor baths-- two of more acres of thermally enhanced aqual delight in open exposure to the still-warm September sun... And we were already running late... Ah, well. C'est la vie, ganas no ganas.

It was in the city park that I truly began to value Budapest in and of itself. And as the train carried us out of the city, making its way upriver to Bratislava, the tracks followed the course of the Danube through a chain of low-lying, green clad mountains, and my appreciation for Hungary increased all the more. The countryside was magnificient, and further enforced the tickling notion in back of my mind that if I really want an appreciative assessment of Europe, I'm going to have to escape the urban scene and find a locale more akin to what I've been accustomed.

Well, it's about 12.30 Saturday morning as I'm typing this, and perhaps you've picked up on some important words over the past few paragraphs, to wit: 'last day in Budapest,' 'Thursday,' 'train,' 'Bratislava;' all words that hold a great deal of weight. Those familiar with my original plans might recall that I was to've flown from Budapest to Greece on Thursday evening. That fell through, and by the time I got to looking for a flight back to England, the price was well past outrageous. I couldn't fly out any earlier than Friday, and flights got no cheaper before next Friday, which meant that I could fly immediately, or stay in the same hostel for a week and then fly cheaper, and the price would be pretty well equal. Well, Budapest was nice, but I saw no sense in staying, and am too cheap to go wasting money on a flight when I have no deadline, so I just opted to follow Celine back to Slovakia, where she's doing some cultural research for Rotary Club of France. We boarded the [wrong] train at 4.15 pm in Budapest on Thursday, still dripping from our recent time in a sauna, were kindly, and quickly, assisted by some charitable locals to the correct coach, and found ourselves in Bratislava at around 8 pm.

Celine, having already been in Slovakia for 2 weeks, had a contact to stay with. Her contact picked her up at the station, and I was left to my own devices. I went and got a few thousand crown from the cashpoint (by the way, Eastern Europe is highly affordable, no matter what currency your exchanging. You can get 30 crown for a dollar. 30 crown (koruni), in Bratislava, will buy you a ticket to the clock museum, a pint of beer, 2 McDonald's cheeseburgers, or 3 scoops of gelati. 90 crown will get you into a ballet...

Any rate, local money well pocketed, I stepped out of the station to see if I could make use of some suggestory directions from Celine for a cheap bed, but had no luck, so stepped back to the safe light of the station, and was met by a local chap who runs a guest house. I was afraid he was a bit shady, but bottom line was that I was tired, in need of food and company, and a cheap bunk, and he offered all for the best price I saw advertised. Yuray turned out to be a genuine good local soul, and his guest house, a converted block of flats, already contained, when I arrived, 3 North Ireland blokes, a couple from Spain, a Japanese girl, and half a dozen Germans. Laundry and internet are free, and overall, it's been a good experience.

Oh, and yes, for all who were worried, you did hear correct, there were some fairly intense riots in Budapest while I was there. I had no idea of their occurrence until they were well over and dealt with, and I felt no repercussions nor even negative vibes resultant during my entire stay. Thanks for your prayers, sorry you were worried, but you actually knew what was going on before I did.

Any rate, hope I've said something enjoyable. Currently, the Weblog is about 48 hours behind the spiral notebook, but I'll do my best to keep y'all informed. I hope you're well.

Love someone today.