If I Ever Have to Listen to Trance Music Again [BudaPest]

This past weekend I galavanted over to Hungary.

Again, these pictures are compressed, so some of them look downright terrible. Also, believe it or not, I managed to get my finger over my 12x optical zoom lens a couple of times. Fail.

Budapest was enjoyable. It wasn't as great as Prague, to be quite honest, but I am certainly glad I went. Additionally, Budapest is very pocket friendly.

Except for the Hungarians. Did you know that Hungarians in government positions make less than 550 Euros a month? Also, did you know that Hungarians have to pay 45% tax? Can you even imagine??

St. Stephen's Basilica.

It is a stone's throw away from the hostel I used.

I just want to say that I am super disappointed with my camera's performance in low-light situations. You could actually see the walls all around this stained glass - the lighting was lovely. But my camera is too dumb to figure that out.

At some point, when I have time and money, I'd like to make the big kid leap and get a DSLR...where's a sugar daddy when you need one?

Beautiful and ornate.

Bright color.

There was a sign saying something about not eating the berries...

So, you shouldn't eat strange fruits off of sidewalks in foreign countries? Oy, I have a lot to learn!

The "Love Lock" Tree - the bigger the lock, the more in love you are.

Communist housing is so legit.

The Danube.

so wide.

During Nazi reign, the Jews were lined up on the banks and shot one by one.

I loved this church - the tiles are gorgeous. 

I've never seen anything like it.

Parliament - either the largest or second largest in all of Europe...

The central market - with fresh foods and all that kinda stuff.

More tiles.

Fried pork fat [a Hungarian tradition...so I don't feel guilty], apricots, and the most delicious apple strudel I've ever eaten. 

The currency is the Forint, but this all cost less than approximately three euros. 

It's pictures like this that make me want to go all Spears and shave that mess off of my head.

BTW, this is how conversations in Europe go:

European: What is your name?

bRob: Brittany

European: huh?

bRob: BRITT-NEE

[yes, I pronounce my own name incorrectly. it's how we do in Da Souf.]

European: Oh, like Britney Spears!!

Exactly. Exactly like Britney Spears.

This conversation happens at least twice a week.

Anyone want to caption this photo?

The courtyard of the building my hostel was in.

Breakfast.

At the opera.

In Budapest, you can see operas for mega-cheap, but they are on break for the season. I was a little disappointed.

Dilapidated elegance - across from the opera.

The first non-communist statue in BudaPest. 

Some weirdly androgynous girl that is supposed to be a princess or something equally as insignificant.

"The Castle" that is not actually a castle, but is rather a palace turned art museum.

LAME.

What is with these Europeans calling things castles that aren't actually castles? Disappointment.

A rainy gray day.

On the Buda side looking across the Danube at Pest.

An incredible fountain. Note the dead elk at the top.

The chain bridge leading over to Pest.

There is an island in the middle of the Danube further north I wanted to visit [cool, eh?].

I felt safe 93% of my time in Budapest, but walking over to the island was a bit sketchy. It was a little dirtier, and when walking under and around some bridges, the homelessness in the area was very evident.

This might be a little crass to mention, but I also noticed human feces lying around.

At first, I was really disgusted, and while it is most certainly gross, it is notable that a lot of the bathrooms in Europe require payment upon entrance. And if you were homeless and only had some spare change, would you rather spend your money on food or using a proper bathroom?

It's sad that that even has to be a choice.

On the island, a giant fountain set to music.

Unfortunately, everything was closed on the island - the restaurants and whatnot. It was fairly deserted, whether because it was Sunday or because it was rainy, I'm not sure.

So I did the natural thing and went and played on the deserted playground and practiced using the self-timer on my camera.

I'm not super athletic or anything, but I am really good at swinging.

Not to brag, but I think if there were swinging Olympics, I'd go all gold medal on that nonsense.

glowy

hair

ankle

elbow

butt

An old synagogue in what I am guessing is the remnant of the Jewish ghetto.

I really wanted to try authentic Hungarian food, so I went on another long walk through the Jewish Quarter, looking for authentic restaurants.

I found one that was seemingly authentic, and I ate a three course traditional meal. I like to treat myself very nicely, you know.

The goulash was amazing. I don't even like vegetables, but I practically licked that bowl clean.

It came with a flag in the middle, maybe I wasn't as off the beaten path as I thought...

Paprika chicken with dumplings. I was hoping it'd be a bit spicier, but it was incredibly delish, nonetheless. Best dumplings I've ever eaten.

This was just gross. It had some weird mush in the middle.

See? That looks a little hole in the wall - ish.

At first I thought it was ridiculously amusing that they had the bathrooms marked on a street sign.

But then, an hour later, I really really would have appreciated a sign.

I was told there was a bathroom in the train station, but when I went in, I couldn't find it. So I finally went up to a lady working one of the kiosks. As soon as I started speaking English, she just snapped, "NO" at me. Thinking it might be a language barrier, I switched to German. She said even more sharply, "NO", made a face, and turned her back on me. 

That was the first time anyone had ever treated me so rudely in a foreign country - whether it was because I am American or because I don't speak Hungarian, I'm not sure [seriously, who knows Hungarian?]. I had to hold my tongue, for sure, and fight the temptation to use a couple of words  I knew would transcend any language barriers...

Then, some strange guy started speaking English to me in the subway and I pretended not to understand because a) I was exhausted, b) I had to use the potty, c) he seemed a little sketch. I realized afterwards I had just acted as rudely as that other lady had. It's funny, actually, the day before my devotional covered The Lord's Prayer, and it talked about how we shouldn't expect forgiveness for the same things we don't forgive others.

I saw a sign for fish pedicures and was intrigued.

I tried to sneakily take a picture of a girl getting a fish pedicure, but she looked up right after I snapped it. I kind of smiled and waved super awkwardly. What a doof.

It's a good thing I travel alone, I think, because anyone else would probably be super embarrassed by me. I embarrass me, to be quite honest...

I didn't really take any pictures of my hostel. I was really nervous about  going into a hostel by myself; however, it went just swimmingly. I slept in the same room as two nice older guys from Australia, and we even had a couple of extra beds in our room. 

I got to meet a lot of cool people on my last night. One guy, Giseppi, an Italian [not to be obnoxiously American, but could that name be any more stereotypical?], is a Nuclear Engineering major studying in London but currently working in Vienna. Two guys from Holland were traveling through on motorcycles on their way to Romania.

I love to hear the cool traveling stories people tell. Duke, one of the Holland-ers [?], once ate a rat fetus while backpacking through Asia, because the village chief offered it to him as this delicacy and it would have been rude to turn it down. Interesting [slash gross slash sad], ja?

Clubbing and drinking is a big part of the hostel scene, I found. I hung out with everyone until around midnight, but I passed on going out. I think they all thought I was pretty lame after that, but whatevz.

I'm old. I like to go to bed. I'm pretty okay with that.

The ride back was a little ridiculous. Wolfgang's smelly friend was also driving back, and at one point they switched cars. So Wolfgang's friend, who I am dubbing Smellatropolis, drove our tiny little car. And just to let you know, he drove it horribly. And messed up Wolfgang's car. I kid you not.

We didn't get back until 3am. Luckily, there was a really cool lady who lives in Munich but is actually Hungarian riding with us. She was incredibly talkative and funny. I actually understood probably 90% of her German - which is kind of funny, because it is her second language and I typically understand about half of what I hear. I think it might be because she and I have both learned formal German, as compared to dialect or slang.

Did you even read all of this??

I bet not.

Don't forget to take the quiz from the previous post!

-bRob