Say it slowly tour Day 25: Postcard from Budapest

If Mick Thomas is right, and “there’s no point writing postcards on your bad days”, this is a pretty pointless entry.

Last night’s train ride was pretty ordinary. Second class carriages slept six, two rows of bunks three high, in a space a little smaller than the average bathroom. I wasn’t expecting the hilton on rails, but in a space that size, I’d hope the airconditioning worked. It didn’t, I tried to make it work, even got the otherwise underworked conductor guy to have a go. Nope. You’d think that the steamed up windows would give someone a clue? Nope. I managed eventually to prise the window open a little, trying to find the balance between prevention of asphyxiation and excess noise.

While we’re talking about the staff on the PKP train from Krakow to Budapest, can I mention how they give useless a bad name. Imagine a non-smoking night train full of folks trying to sleep. Then insert long, regular, loud conversations between two smoking staff members in the carriageway. Did wonders for my attempt to sleep, as buckets of sweat poured off me.

Finally got about 4 hours sleep, plus some dozing. Made for a happy, shiny person to step off the train, still sweaty, to be confronted by pushy old women with spare rooms for 10 euro a night, and pushy taxi drivers. I’m not looking to stay at anyone’s grandma’s house. Similarly, having no where to stay, I don’t need a taxi to take me there.

So the experiment of arriving at a place without a fixed address wasn’t an unconditional success. It wasn’t a failure either, to be fair. I wandered down a couple of streets, eventually found a hostel cramming 12 to a room, without wireless. But given that total failure would mean sleeping under a bridge (or caving and throwing my visa card at the holiday hotel, damn the expense) I can say i  did okay. Also booked a return train to Sarajevo at the station, as it’s impossible to do online (I worked out how to get the price, but there’s no purchase-give-us-money button). It’s weird, basically an open ticket with a 2 month expiry. Just rock up and hop on any day.

Hostel couldn’t check me in until 2, so dumped the big bag (forgot to change clothes…sigh) and headed out to see Budapest. I’ll say that Budapest in the rain doesn’t give a shit about any tired cranky travelling white guy. It just don’t.

Found a cafe with wireless (where I am now, back for another fix: tea, water, triple choc muffin and the innernet). Ended up drained, “emotional”. I guess it’s the up and go thing, the organising myself on the fly, the realising that it’s been 24 days since I saw Liz, the dog, the cat, slept in my bed, pottered around my/our house… and except for seeing Liz I’m not even half way through my trip.

I get to see Liz next weekend, in Venice, and then spend two weeks with her. I can’t find words to say how much I’m looking forward to this.

I think I’m  just getting tired, and homesick, and a little over carrying everything from place to place. I love travel, but I’m not a born solitary nomad. I enjoy the plusses that travelling alone has: I only every have to convince myself where to eat. The loneliness does get to me, the inability to share what I’m seeing, what I’m eating, what I’m doing.

Travelling through non-English speaking places also throws up it’s own challenges and aggravations. Walking into bookstores, seeing familiar titles in languages I can’t read: entire bookstores full of contents that are lost to me. It’s not walking into a bookstore and being unable to find what I want, it’s walking into a bookstore and finding nothing i can read. The novelty wears off  pretty quickly.

Travel is great, I love it, but some days I don’t.

This afternoon i took myself off to the Gellert thermal baths. Once I got through the frustrations of getting to the water (there are no instructions, and a lack of knowledgeable helpful assistance, plus the chance that a mistake puts your privates into the public realm) it was wonderful.

There are two big pools in the section for males (maybe in the female bit too, but I didn’t get to go look there), one 36 degrees the other 38. The 36 pool seems hot, but after a while becomes a good temperature. Then it’s time to hop into the 38. Going back into the 36 is cooling down. Much relaxing. Towards the end I was falling asleep, woke a couple of times to nostrils full of 36 degree water.

There’s also a steam room, set at about 3000 degrees, or at least feels like it. Within minutes my skin was turning pink. Hopped out pretty quick, into the cold bath, and was  superheated to being able to go in  past my knees before sensation kicked in again.

Followed this up with a 30 minute “aromatherapy” “relaxing” massage. There was no aroma therapy, no smells at all. The relaxing bit might describe the feeling after being solidly pummelled for half an hour. I do feel good and relaxed now, but wouldn’t be surprised to wake up tomorrow covered in bruises. I was hoping for a gentle little japanese woman walking on my back, instead I think I got rolled by Jeremy Clarkson’s ego.

It was raining worse coming out, visibility on the Danube was down to a bridge in either direction. Am chuffed to have now seen the Danube — not the Blue Danube, this bit is kind of a murky light brown.

Wandered back through Vaci st, the main tourist drag, and allowed myself to be guided into a reasonable looking cafe. Started with the bean soup (loaded with kidney beans, sausage, meat bits and mushrooms). This arrived in it’s own little cauldron stand, a big ladle, and my very own big shappow soup plate. There was enough for about 2 bowls worth. A hint of paprika, salty meat broth, all good. And no pig fat with the bread (probably not a bad thing to cutt down on).

Mains was a simple local dumpling noodle thing with egg — a bit like scrambled eggs with lots of small gnocchi. Solid, hearty, was just what I needed.

Am working on getting the hungarian for thank you, but it’s getting a little confused in there. I can see the difference it makes to ask the waiter/server what the word is, and then repeat it back, I think they like to see folks making an effort. Better than the average USian tourist anyway…

Early night, will get to snoring before the other  11 dorm occupants can start up. I’ve got ear plugs.

To be fair, I think neither Budapest or me had the best day today. I’m aiming for better tomorrow.