I've now had a traditional Norwegian Christmas meal from the east and the west. In the west, they eat lamb ribs that have been salted and dried, then soaked in water to de-salt and puff up. The side dishes are boiled potatoes and mashed turnip-like roots. As bizarre as this sounds, it's actually rather tasty. The drying and re hydrating of the lamb makes it less greasy and very tender. The turnip-esque mash was actually pretty good too. This is traditionally served with a dark beer and a high- octane hard alcohol called aquavit.
Tonight we ate a traditional meal from eastern Norway; three different kinds of pork, boiled potatoes, sauerkraut and mustard sauce. God bless mustard, it's the only thing that got me through the meal.
The meal started off with bacon, or at least what I was told was bacon. In reality it was pig skin. Pig skin that was tough as concrete on one side and slime on the other side. It was so tough that I had to chew it well or I'm certain it would have sliced my esophagus open. I took a little more than a taste since I thought it was bacon, and bacon is yummy. Skin is one thing I can't eat. It turns my stomach to even think about people eating chicken skin, let alone watch people eat it. The other part of an animal I just can't stand is the fat. I can get through a small bit of beef-fat if I have to, everything else is a no-go. Now I have a rather large helping of pig skin I'm going to have to ingest. I can't just not eat it, the pig skin is considered to be the best part of this particular dish. Throwing it away would be terribly rude. I tried putting it in my mouth slimy side down, slimy side up, anything to make it more tolerable. I choked down as much as I could, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible. There was still more I'd have to eat, but I had to save it for later.
The next thing that came around was sauerkraut. I really hate sauerkraut, but not wanting to be rude I took a small helping. Little did I know this was the best food I'd be eating during the meal.
Next came the pork, or what I'm lead to believe was pork. It's called medister, and I can't find any explanation for it online. That might be for the best, somethings are better left unknown. All the pork was grey. There were fatty slabs of pork meat, pork cakes, and pork sausage. Mustard sauce also came around which I promptly drowned my food in. When I was cautioned it was quite strong, I made an "oops" face and then made a comment that I love mustard and must have gotten carried away. I didn't care how strong it was, I knew this was going to be one of the only things to help me through the meal.
The slabs of pork were marbled with fat, making it a bit of a challenge to eat. I just couldn't choke down any more fat. I carefully carved the lean meat out with my dull butter knife not really minding how long it was taking. After all, there was no other food I was looking forward to eating. The pork cake was acutally pretty tasty, or maybe it was just by comparison. I didn't mind it nearly as much as the meat slab.
Only three things left to finish on my plate: saurkraut, sausage and the skin. In a stroke of genious I mixed the mustard sauce in with the saurkraut and used the saurkraut to mask the skin. It actually worked, the mustard took the sting off the saurkraut and the saurkraut masked the taste and texture of the skin. I never thought I'd be thankful for saurkraut, but tonight it was my best friend.
One thing left, the sausage. Luckily sausages are relatively soft, so not much chewing is invovled. I powered through the sausage and drank long and hard from my wine glass. And don't forget, this was a meal with the extended family, so I also had to paste a smile on my face and make conversation.
I think I have PTSD from this meal, I'm mentally exhausted from eating it. I was fantasizing about the Hungarian stomach throughout this meal. I would have cried with joy for the ability to trade.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Budapest Day 2- Castle Hill at Night and Meeting Kata
After emerging from the tunnels, I decided to walk about a bit before texting Kata to meet up. Buda at night is an absolutely surreal experience. The yellow-orange glow of the street lights reflecting off the untouched snow and the yellow, Baroque buildings made me feel like I was in a David Lynch film and not in the real world.
I could have walked around until my feet froze off, but Kata texted me asking if we should meet up. We agreed to meet up at the bottom of Castle Hill, I wanted just a bit more time in this place before I returned to the real world.
I made my way down the stairways of Castle Hill, this time unafraid since I was on the side I was familiar with.
Kata was waiting for me when I arrived at the square. She's a young doctor, and I instantly liked her. She asked me where I wanted to eat, and I said I was open to anything, but I'd really love to eat some real Hungarian food from a restaurant she likes. She said there was a small restaurant near her flat that she really liked.
On the way, I asked her questions about Hungarian health care and medical school and learned some very interesting things. I told her about the differences I noticed between Norway and the US making sure to highlight the good and the bad. I learned that Hungarian textbook writers get paid by the page, so they are rather long winded. Kata said she survived medical school by buying German textbooks and using those. They were literally half the size with the same exact info.
I could easily write a small novel on such fascinating topics as needle recapping and the Hungarian residency program, but I have a feeling I'd be the only one interested in reading it. Instead, I think I'll jump ahead to my Hungarian dinner. There were two Hungarian dishes she recommended at the restaurant. Potato casserole or stomach. I decided to live dangerously and went for the stomach with a side of potatoes and a cucumber salad.
I can now safely say it's a myth that everything strange tastes like chicken. Stomach tastes like stomach. I have nothing I can even vaguely relate it to. It has a seafood-like texture and is very chewy. I honestly can't say if I like it or not, it was so new to me that all I can say is I didn't hate it. After eating it another two or three times, it's either going to be my new favorite food or it'll make me throw up.
The cucumber salad was also interesting. It had a sweet-cream dressing which was an interesting contrast to the cucumbers that were slightly vinegary. It was like a salad and a dessert mixed into one. Tasty, but strange. I can easily say that will become a favorite of mine one day.
We went back to her place for tea and more conversation. She told me that her apartment used to be her grandparents apartment. They lived in this tiny one-bedroom flat with four children. They were also jumping for joy when they acquired it. Their previous apartment didn't have its own bathroom, there was one bathroom per floor that was shared with the other tenants. The apartment is perfect for one person, but would even be small for a couple. My mom, brother and I have lived in some small places, but they were veritable mansions compared to this flat.
It really hit home for the first time how fortunate Americans really are. The poverty I lived in as a child and a teenager was nothing compared to the middle-class life in Hungary under Communism.
I could have walked around until my feet froze off, but Kata texted me asking if we should meet up. We agreed to meet up at the bottom of Castle Hill, I wanted just a bit more time in this place before I returned to the real world.
I made my way down the stairways of Castle Hill, this time unafraid since I was on the side I was familiar with.
Kata was waiting for me when I arrived at the square. She's a young doctor, and I instantly liked her. She asked me where I wanted to eat, and I said I was open to anything, but I'd really love to eat some real Hungarian food from a restaurant she likes. She said there was a small restaurant near her flat that she really liked.
On the way, I asked her questions about Hungarian health care and medical school and learned some very interesting things. I told her about the differences I noticed between Norway and the US making sure to highlight the good and the bad. I learned that Hungarian textbook writers get paid by the page, so they are rather long winded. Kata said she survived medical school by buying German textbooks and using those. They were literally half the size with the same exact info.
I could easily write a small novel on such fascinating topics as needle recapping and the Hungarian residency program, but I have a feeling I'd be the only one interested in reading it. Instead, I think I'll jump ahead to my Hungarian dinner. There were two Hungarian dishes she recommended at the restaurant. Potato casserole or stomach. I decided to live dangerously and went for the stomach with a side of potatoes and a cucumber salad.
I can now safely say it's a myth that everything strange tastes like chicken. Stomach tastes like stomach. I have nothing I can even vaguely relate it to. It has a seafood-like texture and is very chewy. I honestly can't say if I like it or not, it was so new to me that all I can say is I didn't hate it. After eating it another two or three times, it's either going to be my new favorite food or it'll make me throw up.
The cucumber salad was also interesting. It had a sweet-cream dressing which was an interesting contrast to the cucumbers that were slightly vinegary. It was like a salad and a dessert mixed into one. Tasty, but strange. I can easily say that will become a favorite of mine one day.
We went back to her place for tea and more conversation. She told me that her apartment used to be her grandparents apartment. They lived in this tiny one-bedroom flat with four children. They were also jumping for joy when they acquired it. Their previous apartment didn't have its own bathroom, there was one bathroom per floor that was shared with the other tenants. The apartment is perfect for one person, but would even be small for a couple. My mom, brother and I have lived in some small places, but they were veritable mansions compared to this flat.
It really hit home for the first time how fortunate Americans really are. The poverty I lived in as a child and a teenager was nothing compared to the middle-class life in Hungary under Communism.
Budapest Day 2: Into the Labyrinths
The labryinths are just amazing, and I'm so glad Boro suggested I go at night. Exploring them with only a lantern was magical. The labyrinths are one of those places you believe exist as a child, but you realize can't exist as an adult. While exploring the tunnels, I imagined I was in a Legend of Zelda or D&D game. There were so many nooks and crannies with fun little things hidden in them, it was quite easy to suspend disbelief for an hour.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Budapest Day 2- To the Buda Castle Labyrinths
The first thing I noticed in my Budapest travel guide was the Buda Castle Labrynths. I had no idea what they were, I just knew I wanted to go. Because of Boro's suggestion, I decided to go after 6pm. This meant I had to take the subway for the first time.
I've been avoiding the subway like the plague. Growing up with the horror stories of the New York Subways and not feeling entirely safe on the Olso subways, there was no way I wanted to ride the subways in some foreign country. This night I had no choice. I couldn't really ride the trams to my destination and I wasn't familiar enough with the bus system to take advantage of it. Much to my surprise, my fear was 100% unfounded. The subways were brightly lit, clean, and didn't have creepy people lurking about. The subways in Budapest are a joy to ride.
Unfortunately, the closest subway stop to the labyrinths was on the other side of Castle Hill, a place I haven't visited before. I emerged from the subway stop into a blizzard, I couldn't see anything. I ducked into a supermarket for a chance to consult my map after doing a quick walk around the block to get my bearings and the street names. Much to my dismay, I discover that there's no brightly lit public roads to the castle from my location. I have to go through the park. No website I visited warned of the dangers of the park, and it was only 6:30 in the evening, but I still wasn't all that crazy about walking alone through a park where I could be snatched away without anyone noticing. I don't like being in parks at night in my home town, let alone in a strange city. I didn't see any other choice available besides getting back on the subway and going back to Pest. I decided my best plan of action would be to walk along busy streets until I came to the park and make my assessment from there.
The park is long and narrow, so I didn't have a long way to traverse, it was also pretty well lit. I saw a gentleman get off the tram and start walking through the park, so I decided to follow him. A witness would help deter anyone from doing anything unsavory to me. I walk about eight paces behind the guy, enough distance that I don't freak him out but close enough he could hear me scream. About halfway through the park, the man starts picking up his pace and I realize I am freaking him out. Safety comes before politeness however, so I continue to keep pace with him. That he's a bit freaked by someone eight paces behind him concerns me even more, is this park really scary at night?
When we reached the other side he hurried across the street while I paused a moment to figure out my next move. There's no streets I can see that lead up Castle Hill, just a dark, stone stairway. Alrighty then, up the stairs I go. The good part about the stairs is they are quite narrow and I can see all the way to the top. The bad part is there's only two exit points, the top and the bottom. I hurry up the stairs as fast as I can, keeping an ear and an eye out for anything that looks suspicious. I reach the top only to find another staircase.
This staircase is in the open air, and I can see from pristine snow that no one has been up the stairs for the past few hours. The lack of people comforts and unnerves me. I'll easily be able to see or hear anyone coming, but there's no outs if someone does come. I'm not the best at running down steep, slippery steps. At this point there's only one course of action, onward and upward. When I reach the top of the second set of steps I recognise my surroundings and realize I've made it. I'm on Castle Hill, safe and sound.
I'm comfortable on Castle Hill, I know the layout and I've seen the faces of the people in that area of town. I know it's a friendly area. The park might have been just as friendly too. I hadn't read anything that would lead me to believe otherwise, but I don't like to guess. If I'm not sure of an area either at home or abroad, I treat it like it's dangerous. It's especially hard when I don't have a feel for the place and my spidey-senses aren't working properly.
I've been avoiding the subway like the plague. Growing up with the horror stories of the New York Subways and not feeling entirely safe on the Olso subways, there was no way I wanted to ride the subways in some foreign country. This night I had no choice. I couldn't really ride the trams to my destination and I wasn't familiar enough with the bus system to take advantage of it. Much to my surprise, my fear was 100% unfounded. The subways were brightly lit, clean, and didn't have creepy people lurking about. The subways in Budapest are a joy to ride.
Unfortunately, the closest subway stop to the labyrinths was on the other side of Castle Hill, a place I haven't visited before. I emerged from the subway stop into a blizzard, I couldn't see anything. I ducked into a supermarket for a chance to consult my map after doing a quick walk around the block to get my bearings and the street names. Much to my dismay, I discover that there's no brightly lit public roads to the castle from my location. I have to go through the park. No website I visited warned of the dangers of the park, and it was only 6:30 in the evening, but I still wasn't all that crazy about walking alone through a park where I could be snatched away without anyone noticing. I don't like being in parks at night in my home town, let alone in a strange city. I didn't see any other choice available besides getting back on the subway and going back to Pest. I decided my best plan of action would be to walk along busy streets until I came to the park and make my assessment from there.
The park is long and narrow, so I didn't have a long way to traverse, it was also pretty well lit. I saw a gentleman get off the tram and start walking through the park, so I decided to follow him. A witness would help deter anyone from doing anything unsavory to me. I walk about eight paces behind the guy, enough distance that I don't freak him out but close enough he could hear me scream. About halfway through the park, the man starts picking up his pace and I realize I am freaking him out. Safety comes before politeness however, so I continue to keep pace with him. That he's a bit freaked by someone eight paces behind him concerns me even more, is this park really scary at night?
When we reached the other side he hurried across the street while I paused a moment to figure out my next move. There's no streets I can see that lead up Castle Hill, just a dark, stone stairway. Alrighty then, up the stairs I go. The good part about the stairs is they are quite narrow and I can see all the way to the top. The bad part is there's only two exit points, the top and the bottom. I hurry up the stairs as fast as I can, keeping an ear and an eye out for anything that looks suspicious. I reach the top only to find another staircase.
This staircase is in the open air, and I can see from pristine snow that no one has been up the stairs for the past few hours. The lack of people comforts and unnerves me. I'll easily be able to see or hear anyone coming, but there's no outs if someone does come. I'm not the best at running down steep, slippery steps. At this point there's only one course of action, onward and upward. When I reach the top of the second set of steps I recognise my surroundings and realize I've made it. I'm on Castle Hill, safe and sound.
I'm comfortable on Castle Hill, I know the layout and I've seen the faces of the people in that area of town. I know it's a friendly area. The park might have been just as friendly too. I hadn't read anything that would lead me to believe otherwise, but I don't like to guess. If I'm not sure of an area either at home or abroad, I treat it like it's dangerous. It's especially hard when I don't have a feel for the place and my spidey-senses aren't working properly.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Budapest Day 2- St Stephen's Basilica
This church is home to the 1000 year old, mummified right hand of St. Stephen. Stephen I is commonly thought of as the founder of Hungary and was responsible for expanding Christianity in Hungary.
Outside the Basilica, I did a patently stupid thing, and checked my travel guide. I was hungry and couldn't remember where a good restaurant was. Up until this point, I'd been very good at ducking into a cafe, or even a grocery store to check my book. I figured I'd be safe from pick-pockets with my back to the wall and one eye always on the look-out. I also made sure I was within eyesight of the woman in the ticket office and the one in the souvenir stand. That's when a man approached me.
"Do you need some help?"
"Oh, no. I'm just fine. I just left the church," I start casually putting my book away. I'm very careful to not look like I'm worried or threatened, that everything is fine, this guy really hasn't been lurking around and isn't obviously not interested in the basilica.
He sees I'm starting to pack up and leave, immediately takes a step back "It's fine, you can stay here. That's no problem." Yes, I'm sure the leather jacket, track pants and Adidas shoes are part of the St. Stephen's Customer Service uniform. He's trying to set me at ease, which makes me all the more wary. "Where do you come from?"
Don't say America, "I come from Norway."
"Ah, I lived there before. God dag, god dag. Do you come from Bergen?" At this point I wonder if he's one of the beggars that are a frequent site in Norwegian streets. Nearly all the beggars in Norway are from Eastern Europe and Russia. With the cost of living, one of these people can literally beg for a few months in Norway and make more money than they would in their home country.
"Tusen takk," I reply and decide to switch to Norwegian. "Nei, jeg kommer fra Oslo. Hvor bodde du i Norge? (no, I come from Oslo. Where did you live in Norway?)" I have my doubts that this guy knows more than the two words he's just spoken to me.
"Ah, Oslo. That's a beautiful city," I knew it. "Are you lost?" The million dollar question.
"Oh, no. My friend wouldn't come with me to the church, so we agreed to meet in a hour at a cafe. I just couldn't remember the name of it," lying and not looking nervous have never been my strong suits. Fortunately, when my safety depends on it, I am capable of Academy Award- winning performances.
"Okay then, have a nice day."
He was most likely one of those people I'd read about on the State Department's website who lures unsuspecting travelers to tourist trap restaurants where you'll pay literally hundreds of dollars for a glass of wine. Still, it was enough for me to learn my lesson.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Toddlers are Wierd
*This is a time- out from my Budapest stories. I promise, I'll finish them.
I'm in the bathroom and Magnus comes in.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"I'm using the toilet."
He pulls up a chair and sits right in front of me, almost knee to knee.
"Are you pooping?" he asks very interested.
"No," I also realize that the toddler and I have gotten to the place in our relationship that being interrogated by him about my bathroom habits is no longer akward.
"I'm pooping."
Hoping I misheard I ask, "You need to poop?"
"I fart-pooped."
"Oh."
We're still at that lovely stage of toilet training where accidents happen.
I'm in the bathroom and Magnus comes in.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"I'm using the toilet."
He pulls up a chair and sits right in front of me, almost knee to knee.
"Are you pooping?" he asks very interested.
"No," I also realize that the toddler and I have gotten to the place in our relationship that being interrogated by him about my bathroom habits is no longer akward.
"I'm pooping."
Hoping I misheard I ask, "You need to poop?"
"I fart-pooped."
"Oh."
We're still at that lovely stage of toilet training where accidents happen.
Budapest day 2- Castle Hill Walk with Boro
Boro and I decided on a walk around the city. She wanted to take me to Castle Hill. It's a touristy part of Budapest, but she said she also enjoys it. After seeing it, I understand why.
Castle Hill is surreal. It's like walking around in a movie. I don't know how else to describe the place. From the cobblestone streets to the Baroque architecture mixed with Art Nouveau, the place doesn't feel like it should exist.
She told me what she knew of the history of the city, and patiently fielded my endless questions about every interesting nook and cranny I happened across. She also shared with me her observations of cultural differences. She noted that German tourists are only interested in taking pictures of the famous landmarks and Japanese tourists mainly take pictures of themselves. I asked her what Americans take pictures of, and she said I was the first American she's shown around so she's not sure yet.
She also told me of one of the more interesting traditions in Budapest. Every year the university students must polish the balls on a bronze statue of a horse and rider. The student with the highest greades goes first, then the person with the next highest grades, ect.
After that, we walked over to Fisherman's Bastion. Absolutely beautiful and it's probably one of the best lookout points in Buda.
One of the interesting things Boro pointed out at these land marks was the small brass representations of the monuments. This is for blind people, so they can still experience these historic sites.
While we were up there, she took me to the Marzipan Museum. It's actually more interesting than it sounds. Hungarians are very creative with this confection.
Below Fisherman's Bastion is a park. Again I got a feeling of "this place just can't be real."
Keep in mind, this is winter. There's been several snow storms since I've arrived.
That sculpture is a depiction of characters from a Hungarial Fable. Boro tried to remember the name, but couldn't.
Out of the parks, she next led me up to the Mary Magdalene Tower.
This church was destoryed during an air raid in WWII. The remanents and reconstruction are left as a memorial.
After that tour, Boro took me on a wild bus ride to Deak Square in Pest. She was going to have to be going to class shortly, and she wanted to drop me off somewhere interesting. We said our farewells at the subway station at Deak.
It was an akward parting since Hungarians seem to say goodbye differently than Americans. I said my thanks and goodbye, yet she still stood there. I realized there was some social ritual I was missing, so I offered my hand for a handshake. I didn't know how she'd feel about a near stranger suddenly hugging her or if that was even what she was waiting for. She took my hand but still stood there, now starting to feel akward herself. I lightheartedly joked that Americans must not know the proper way to say goodbye. She laughed and waved goodbye as she left for the subway.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Budapest- Day 2
After waking up and getting dressed, I headed out for the rendezvous I had planned with a girl from Couch Surfing. I originally figured I had time to walk to the Kerepes Cemetery and see the Foucault Pendulum before I met up with Boro. I got off at the wrong tram stop, but I was able to take some beautiful pictures and get a coffee at a local coffee shop.
This left me just enough time to walk up the street to the cemetery and take the tram back to the plaza. I was also unable to find the pendulum. The walk in early morning Pest was nice though. It gave me a chance to people watch. I also had a free minute to jump on the Internet in McDonald's and email some friends.
McDonald's is actually kind of neat in Budapest. It's a cross between a traditional McDonald's and a Starbucks with cheap Internet access. It's strange to be able to get a surprisingly good macchiato and a fresh-made croissant with your egg McMuffin.
Boro showed up almost exactly on time. After introductions, she took me on a tram to Castle Hill.
This left me just enough time to walk up the street to the cemetery and take the tram back to the plaza. I was also unable to find the pendulum. The walk in early morning Pest was nice though. It gave me a chance to people watch. I also had a free minute to jump on the Internet in McDonald's and email some friends.
McDonald's is actually kind of neat in Budapest. It's a cross between a traditional McDonald's and a Starbucks with cheap Internet access. It's strange to be able to get a surprisingly good macchiato and a fresh-made croissant with your egg McMuffin.
Boro showed up almost exactly on time. After introductions, she took me on a tram to Castle Hill.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
First Night in the Hostel
I get back to the hostel fairly early, but I've had a long day. I'm ready for bed. I'd bought provisions at the supermarket for breakfast for the next few days and water since I'm not longer sure the water is safe to drink in this country.
I had read that the water was safe to drink in Hungary, but I noticed they didn't put ice in my drink when I ate dinner. I decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so I bought a large bottle of water. Hungarians seem to like fizzy water. This is a fact I was unaware of when I bought my liter bottle. Fortunately, their fizzy water doesn't have that weird salty taste like American tonic water. I figured I could live with it. I also figured it would go flat within 24 hours and I'd have regular water.
When I returned to the hostel, I was reminded of the owner's chain-smoking habit. Now that the windows were closed, the smoke was much more noticeable. Crap. I'm allergic to smoke. This was actually something I hadn't planned on encountering. I forget that not every country has the same anti-smoking laws that we have.
I closed the door to the room and opened the window to give the room a chance to air out while I gathered my toiletries and my night clothes. This was my first good look at the bathroom. The shower was better than expected, but I knew I wouldn't be getting into it until I was desperate for a shower. I did bring along baby wipes and a wash cloth just in case, so I'd be able to last a few days without becoming too stinky. Funky showers are the one thing I don't handle very well. I can sleep just about anywhere, eat just about anything, but I really have a hard time taking a shower in a funky place.
I don't really trust the lockers so I retrieve my bike chain so I can chain my backpack to the head of my bed. I also pin my passport and emergency credit card to my long sleeve shirt and put a t-shirt on over it. This first night, I also decide to leave my boots next to my bed. Just in case.
I laid down in my sleep sack and felt bed springs. They aren't uniformly poking up, however I have a huge spring poking me in the upper back. I look at the other beds. The look like they've got better mattresses on them, but I wouldn't be able to chain my backpack near my head. I could chain my backpack to the bedpost, but I can sleep through almost anything. I could easily wake up to a bike chain only if I sleep in one of those beds. I figure the top bunk mattress will be the same as the bottom bunk, so I don't even bother checking. Instead I curve myself into an S shape to avoid the pointiest springs.
The other person staying in my room arrived at some time in the night. She was a young Chinese girl who was more paranoid that I was. She woke up several times in the night and checked to make sure she had her keys around her neck and did several inventories of her locker during the night.
There was also a very boisterous French-sounding girl that arrived later that evening. She wasn't staying in the hostel as far as I could tell, and I also figured she didn't want a room since she didn't stay. I kept hearing her say in heavily accented English "And they told me to come back tomorrow?"
Between the frustrated French, the paranoid Chinese girl, and the springy bed I still managed to get a decent night's sleep.
I had read that the water was safe to drink in Hungary, but I noticed they didn't put ice in my drink when I ate dinner. I decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so I bought a large bottle of water. Hungarians seem to like fizzy water. This is a fact I was unaware of when I bought my liter bottle. Fortunately, their fizzy water doesn't have that weird salty taste like American tonic water. I figured I could live with it. I also figured it would go flat within 24 hours and I'd have regular water.
When I returned to the hostel, I was reminded of the owner's chain-smoking habit. Now that the windows were closed, the smoke was much more noticeable. Crap. I'm allergic to smoke. This was actually something I hadn't planned on encountering. I forget that not every country has the same anti-smoking laws that we have.
I closed the door to the room and opened the window to give the room a chance to air out while I gathered my toiletries and my night clothes. This was my first good look at the bathroom. The shower was better than expected, but I knew I wouldn't be getting into it until I was desperate for a shower. I did bring along baby wipes and a wash cloth just in case, so I'd be able to last a few days without becoming too stinky. Funky showers are the one thing I don't handle very well. I can sleep just about anywhere, eat just about anything, but I really have a hard time taking a shower in a funky place.
I don't really trust the lockers so I retrieve my bike chain so I can chain my backpack to the head of my bed. I also pin my passport and emergency credit card to my long sleeve shirt and put a t-shirt on over it. This first night, I also decide to leave my boots next to my bed. Just in case.
I laid down in my sleep sack and felt bed springs. They aren't uniformly poking up, however I have a huge spring poking me in the upper back. I look at the other beds. The look like they've got better mattresses on them, but I wouldn't be able to chain my backpack near my head. I could chain my backpack to the bedpost, but I can sleep through almost anything. I could easily wake up to a bike chain only if I sleep in one of those beds. I figure the top bunk mattress will be the same as the bottom bunk, so I don't even bother checking. Instead I curve myself into an S shape to avoid the pointiest springs.
The other person staying in my room arrived at some time in the night. She was a young Chinese girl who was more paranoid that I was. She woke up several times in the night and checked to make sure she had her keys around her neck and did several inventories of her locker during the night.
There was also a very boisterous French-sounding girl that arrived later that evening. She wasn't staying in the hostel as far as I could tell, and I also figured she didn't want a room since she didn't stay. I kept hearing her say in heavily accented English "And they told me to come back tomorrow?"
Between the frustrated French, the paranoid Chinese girl, and the springy bed I still managed to get a decent night's sleep.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Budapest- My First Walk
My first stop on my trip was the Hungarian Parliament. Hungary is a Parliamentary Republic with a president and prime minister. It's the oldest legislative building and the second largest Parliament building in Europe.
There's several memorial statues in front of and to the side of the Parliament building in Lajos Kossuth Square. My favorite was the Károlyi memorial. He was Hungary's prime minister from 1918-1919 during a brief period of democracy.
I also took my first look at the famous Danube and the Margaret Bridge.
I wandered around Parliament a bit more before it started snowing hard.
I found refuge in the Ethnographic Museum where a holiday fair was happening. The Hungarians have a real talent for arts and crafts. Unfortunately, most things looked too fragile to survive the trip home.
The snow let up enough I was able to continue my journey.
I walked to, then across the Chain Bridge, the most beautiful bridge in Budapest.
On the other side of the Chain Bridge is the base of Castle Hill. The Palace is in the top, left of the picture.
As I'm walking I'm starting to feel safer. There's children out after dark, and the children are acting like children. There's couples braving the cold weather for a stroll along the Danube and several tourists.
By the time I reached the Margaret Bridge, the cold was too much for me tolerate any longer. I dined on Turkish gyros and went back to the hostel.
This is a link to the rest of the photos I took on my first day, complete with captions.
There's several memorial statues in front of and to the side of the Parliament building in Lajos Kossuth Square. My favorite was the Károlyi memorial. He was Hungary's prime minister from 1918-1919 during a brief period of democracy.
I also took my first look at the famous Danube and the Margaret Bridge.
I wandered around Parliament a bit more before it started snowing hard.
I found refuge in the Ethnographic Museum where a holiday fair was happening. The Hungarians have a real talent for arts and crafts. Unfortunately, most things looked too fragile to survive the trip home.
The snow let up enough I was able to continue my journey.
I walked to, then across the Chain Bridge, the most beautiful bridge in Budapest.
On the other side of the Chain Bridge is the base of Castle Hill. The Palace is in the top, left of the picture.
As I'm walking I'm starting to feel safer. There's children out after dark, and the children are acting like children. There's couples braving the cold weather for a stroll along the Danube and several tourists.
By the time I reached the Margaret Bridge, the cold was too much for me tolerate any longer. I dined on Turkish gyros and went back to the hostel.
This is a link to the rest of the photos I took on my first day, complete with captions.
Budapest- The Hostel
I was pleased to find out that the hostel was very easy to find and just a short walk from where I was eating. I was buzzed into the building and wandered up to the second floor where the hostel was located. A chain-smoking but pleasant guy is waiting for me in front of the hostel. He shows me in and to the room I'll be staying in.
I was happy to see the room was clean and there was only one other person staying in the room at the moment. I chose to stay on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed, then I was shown to the lockers in the other room. The hostel owner gave me a lock, which I didn't use, and told me I could pick any locker I wanted.
Upon close examination of the lockers I noticed they had cardboard backs that were held in place by staples. One locker had the back pried off it in the bottom corner. I chose the locker that was butted up against the wall, used my own lock, and decided I'd keep my valuables on me. I brought a bike lock to chain my backpack to my bed, and was now thankful for my preparedness.
After getting settled, I left the hostel for my first walk around the city.
I was happy to see the room was clean and there was only one other person staying in the room at the moment. I chose to stay on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed, then I was shown to the lockers in the other room. The hostel owner gave me a lock, which I didn't use, and told me I could pick any locker I wanted.
Upon close examination of the lockers I noticed they had cardboard backs that were held in place by staples. One locker had the back pried off it in the bottom corner. I chose the locker that was butted up against the wall, used my own lock, and decided I'd keep my valuables on me. I brought a bike lock to chain my backpack to my bed, and was now thankful for my preparedness.
After getting settled, I left the hostel for my first walk around the city.
Budapest- The Arrival
I arrived in Budapest in the early afternoon, exhausted from the extraordinarily long travel to an airport less than 10 miles away from me. Apparently the Norwegians don't believe there is a need to operate the ferry across the fjord before 10 a.m. even though there's two very active airports on either side. Budapest Airport Terminal 1 is small and easy to navigate. I quickly exchanged my money, bought my train ticket and was on my way to the train.
Waiting for the train, I was a bit uneasy. I'm committed now. I'm in the country, there's no turning back. I'm also quite ready to get on with my adventure. I picked this tiny little country in the middle of Central Europe, I'm excited to see exactly what I got myself into.
The train arrives and I get on. I now realize I'm really not in Kansas. This train looks like it came straight out of Soviet Russia and it's crammed full of people. There's lanky Russian looking guys smoking in the entrance way, and people lining the hallway that's so narrow I can barely squeeze past.
I was to afraid to take out my camera and start taking pictures. I did, however, find a picture online of an identical train car.
The train I rode in was older, more decrepit, and smokier, but this pic gives an idea.
I find a place to stand next to a large woman in a white coat who doesn't look like the kidnapping type. I stand with my face to the window, my back to a wall between the compartments, and I'm glancing out of the corners of my eyes to either side looking for potential danger and escape routes. I'm grateful I brought my sunglasses along so my eyes now can't betray my fear. I figure the chances of being physically harmed are actually pretty low, but my chances of leaving the train with my backpack are very low as well. Ah well, I really don't need my digital camera and my iPod. My cash, debit cards and passport were safely pinned to clever spots inside my clothes so I'll be able to leave the country with minimum hassle and won't starve.
Eventually enough people leave the train that I can take a seat in a compartment. Now that I have a chance to actually look around at the people riding the train I realize that there's many non-scary people on the train too, old ladies with knitting, other travelers and young students reading books. I allowed myself to relax, but just a bit.
I arrive at the Nyugati Railway station and exit the train without incident. I don't want to look like I don't know where I'm going so I walk confidently out of the train station in search of food. The main roads in Budapest are very busy so there's underpasses for pedestrians to use. They also have subway access. I need a nice safe place to get my bearings, find out where the hostel is, and eat something.
A Burger King with indoor dining is in the underground area. Awesome, my first meal in this new country will be good 'ol American-style fast food.
Waiting for the train, I was a bit uneasy. I'm committed now. I'm in the country, there's no turning back. I'm also quite ready to get on with my adventure. I picked this tiny little country in the middle of Central Europe, I'm excited to see exactly what I got myself into.
The train arrives and I get on. I now realize I'm really not in Kansas. This train looks like it came straight out of Soviet Russia and it's crammed full of people. There's lanky Russian looking guys smoking in the entrance way, and people lining the hallway that's so narrow I can barely squeeze past.
I was to afraid to take out my camera and start taking pictures. I did, however, find a picture online of an identical train car.
The train I rode in was older, more decrepit, and smokier, but this pic gives an idea.
I find a place to stand next to a large woman in a white coat who doesn't look like the kidnapping type. I stand with my face to the window, my back to a wall between the compartments, and I'm glancing out of the corners of my eyes to either side looking for potential danger and escape routes. I'm grateful I brought my sunglasses along so my eyes now can't betray my fear. I figure the chances of being physically harmed are actually pretty low, but my chances of leaving the train with my backpack are very low as well. Ah well, I really don't need my digital camera and my iPod. My cash, debit cards and passport were safely pinned to clever spots inside my clothes so I'll be able to leave the country with minimum hassle and won't starve.
Eventually enough people leave the train that I can take a seat in a compartment. Now that I have a chance to actually look around at the people riding the train I realize that there's many non-scary people on the train too, old ladies with knitting, other travelers and young students reading books. I allowed myself to relax, but just a bit.
I arrive at the Nyugati Railway station and exit the train without incident. I don't want to look like I don't know where I'm going so I walk confidently out of the train station in search of food. The main roads in Budapest are very busy so there's underpasses for pedestrians to use. They also have subway access. I need a nice safe place to get my bearings, find out where the hostel is, and eat something.
A Burger King with indoor dining is in the underground area. Awesome, my first meal in this new country will be good 'ol American-style fast food.
Budapest- Prologue
I've been uploading pictures of my trip to my Picassa account so I can share them. My hope is to share stories along with the pictures.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Oslo Graffiti
This is another Banksy-esque graffiti I spotted in Oslo on the way to the bus station to begin my journey to Budapest.
Halloween in Norway
Halloween is a very new holiday here. This is the first year the children carved pumpkins. I also showed them how to clean off and bake the seeds.
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