Category: Hungary

Nothing will ever taste as sweet as Hungarian blackberries.

I would never have known this had I not made the trip. The train ride from Bratislava to Budapest was not bad, long, or particularly smelly; which puts it ahead of the curve. Our arrival in Budapest put me face to face with the first money changers I had seen since South America. Given my lovely track record with their sort, I opted to walk the couple blocks to the ATM to get money to buy metro passes instead of deal with them.

We made it to the underground with money and luggage and left with much less money and unlimited travel passes for the next 72 hours. Considering how much we actually used them, we overpaid by about 12 euro. First lesson learned; Budapest is easily walkable.

The Mandala hostel, our target in Budapest, was relatively easy to find. Simply follow the street signs and don’t try to get anyone to give you cardinal directions; as with most places I have been, no one knows North from any other compass point. After much walking, we arrived at the hostel. Mandala is something I would highly recommend. Lockers big enough to put a full size pack in, decent beds, great staff, decent kitchen, and seemingly always full of characters.

Our first day in Budapest, we rolled out to meet up with Budapest Free Walking Tours. These are run by a couple of locals who decided that people needed to see a better side of their city. All their tours are free, as opposed to many other tour companies that offer a free tour and several pay tours. This is quite a point of pride with their company, though I think that the quality they provide is really the best part of their act. Make sure to go grab some wine with the guides after the tour. They know the answer to any question you might have.

Christina was a fabulously freckled backpacker that Justin befriended the night before and accompanied us on the tour. Afterward, we all rolled to the supermarket and picked up supplies to make sandwiches and chill out at the park with wild firespinning hippies and drug addled locals.

Unfortunately, we didn’t find any of the aforementioned crazies. We did find a dog that was supremely fond of cheese, some toys, and a good shady spot to people-watch.

Eventually, we returned to Mandala Hostel and grabbed our bags to roll out to a friend-of-a-friends place where we planned on staying for a few days.

Always have a pocket compass. I used it constantly, and it is worth many times more than the $10 I originally spent on it.

Once we made it to Zsofi, our new friend, and her apartment, things just started getting better. Immediately, she invited us to go wakeboarding the next day, then took us out to a good local restaurant and showed us the place to kick it with the locals and dance the night away. Which is exactly what we did.

Late nights became a pattern in Budapest.

The following morning, I wasn’t feeling so hot. Drinking and dancing can do that. Still, I soldiered up and we all met up with some great characters from Peru and Ecuador on the Charles bridge.

Omsck lake is one train stop outside of the Budapest metro train district. This becomes important when you are coming back in and a transport official reminds you that your unlimited local travel pass does not apply at that stop and you need to buy another ticket to get back in to the city. It is home to a Nudist beach, good wakeboarding, and a grouchy grocer that sells the some of the best peaches I have ever eaten.

The wakeboarding place was sparsely populated, as it was still technically the work week, and we got to attempt wakeboarding for much longer than the hour that we had paid for. The cable is run around the lake on a 0.7 kilometer track that runs at 30 kph. I nearly quit several times, as I could hardly function or see straight I was feeling so rough. Finally, I got all the way around the entire track a couple times, even catching air after unintentionally running over one of the jumps. Towards the end of the day, my head hurt so bad, I could barely open my eyes. Lucky for me, we finally got kicked off the course.

There is a much lauded bar named Szimpla, where one can sit in bathtubs, or old hollowed out cars and enjoy drinks and music and conversation. There are a great deal of people here; locals and travelers alike. I didn’t think it was anything interesting, and was much more satisfied with just about anywhere else in the city. Swing by to take a look, but don’t plan on being blown away; there is no chocolate pudding tub.

After two nights, Justin had to leave once again, though this time to head off to Italy and meet some gelato. That meant I was left to my own devices while Zsofi worked, and so I decided to sleep in. J

Near the Western Train Station, there is a large shopping mall containing the only Starbucks in Budapest. It also just about everything else you would expect to find in a mall, but not a szabó, the Hungarian word for seamstress. Sadly, I had ruined yet another pocket is my shorts and needed to have it repaired. Eventually, I found a seamstress who spoke English and was able to fix my pocket overnight. I also found some great spots to go jogging, a fruit and vegetable shop that I returned to daily, and a supermarket that really wasn’t all that super.

Budapest was a blast for me. Hungarian women have quite possible the highest per capita knockout bodies of anywhere I have ever been. It made each day just a little nicer that it would have otherwise been.

Zsofi and I spent a great deal of time hanging out. She was my personal guardian angel. I made breakfast almost every morning with fresh fruits and veggies from the shop down the road, croissants from the bakery and honey from a nearby farm. I have seldom eaten so well while on the road.

Her kitchen was well equipped and clean. All the cabinets were red lacquer just like her finger and toenails. We managed to work our way through some of the wine from her housewarming party, and I slept on a stuffed elephant pillow more often than not. The elephant and I were good friends.

The backup plan Justin and I made for retreat to Mandala was never an option.

Zsofi had a way of getting me to relax and just talk. We slept far too little because we would simply be in the midst of enlightening and engaging conversation until just before sunrise almost every night. Eventually, we started falling asleep mid-sentence on the couch once the days caught up with us.

I read that Hungary was famous for wines before I got there. I was quite happy with what I sampled for the most part, but I feel I need to mention one in particular. Etyeki Kuria. The bottle of Pinot Noir 2008 that we had over dinner one night was the best wine I have ever had. Sadly, A couple days later we bought another bottle of the same and it was not as good. Perhaps, the winery is a little unreliable. I dunno.

Friday was the National Holiday for St. Stephen who initially unified the country some time around the invention of peanuts. Everyone took the day off, and we went back to the Omsck lake to do more wakeboarding and I finally stopped trying to make it around the last corner on my face, successfully completing many laps, before they cut me off. Thankfully. I was getting pretty tired.

Saturday, Zsofi and I rolled out to a city called Siófok, on the shore of Lake Balaton. This place was pretty cool. There are a great number of wineries in the area and a great deal of food that is terrible for you. A common ‘peasant’ food is bread smeared with lard and topped with garlic of onions.

I had a blast. We met up with some of Zsofi’s friends and spend the next day and night hanging out with them. I have rarely if ever felt so immediately at ease with a group of friends outside of San Francisco. Conversation was easy, everyone spoke English, and it just clicked. I am so grateful.

Late that night, I ducked out for some dinner and left my camera on the table. Robin saw an opportunity for excellence and seized it. Good Man.

The next day we all went over to the Wakeboarding setup on Lake Balaton that is 1 km in circumference and was broken. So we just hung out and talked and played Frisbee in the lake until the others had to go home. The wakeboarding cable started running about 5 minutes later, so Zsofi gave it a whirl while I played Peter Parker: Cameraman.

FYI: It’s not that easy to catch a train from Balaton to Budapest on a Sunday.

Luckily, good company can make waiting for things just as fun as doing things. On the train back, I pulled out the iPod and a splitter and we watched Alice in Wonderland; sweating in the late summer heat the way that a metal train car will deliver it.

Pro Tip: if you are going out to dinner in Hungary, make sure you do it well in advance of 10 p.m. All the restaurants shut down, and you are left with very few options, quite possibly being forced to eat chicken liver sandwiches on a streetcorner somewhere.

If you are there in season, mid-late summer, find blackberries. I can express how important this is without a great deal of body language, so just trust me.

Find blackberries.

This is the single most sublimely sweet treat I have ever had. Like no blackberry I have ever tasted, they melt like butter, with only a hint of their trademark bitter aftertaste. Perhaps, the greatest meal ever eaten by anyone in Budapest was the night when Zsofi brought home a beautifully ripe Israeli mango and we mixed it with a fresh batch of blackberries in our mouths. Heaven help me!

Sadly, even great things like Budapest must come to an end. I was leaving for Serbia and Zsofi was leaving for London, so we took the last night to roll out to Budepest’s famous spa! It’s not like an American spa or bathhouse, it is more like a hamam, with less abuse from big men in diapers.

The next morning we grabbed a taxi and said our goodbyes on the steps of the train station. I wandered around a bit trying to get some credit put on my cellphone, but as I had spent all my local currency, the store owners would have none of it. Finally, I just slunk off to board the train. During my routine check of all my pockets to make sure I had everything I needed, I noticed something was missing.

My little black moleskin. My lifeline. The train was leaving in 1 minute.

Disclaimer: What I did next is always a bad idea.

I took a second to make sure my bags were all locked up as I usually keep them, so minimal item loss is possible, and took off running with a speed born of madness. I yelled to the conductor that my passport was missing and ran bulldozerlike through the station and back to the shop where I had tried to recharge my phone. Luckily my notebook was right on the counter and I grabbed it, turned around and started running again.

I didn’t even pause at teh ticket gate, just blew past them figuring I was faster than they were if they gave chase. The conductor was no in sight as I neared the train and my eyes kept playing the optical illusion that it was moving away. The rear door was still open and I jumped full speed into the opening, quite nearly scaring the ticket checker into urination as he was waiting on the doors to close behind him. The Irish and Serbian couple I was sharing the coach with were surprised to see me. I just laid my head back, considered what a stupid thing I had just done, and closed my eyes as the train jerked into motion.

Riding the train through the Hungarian countryside, so much was familiar. The hay rolled up in giant bails. Fields, tractors, and farmland; all remind me of places from my youth. The noise from the train was less than peaceful, so I put in my iPod and just enjoyed the view.

The middle aged woman across from me talked in a pleasant manner with her hands. Enthusiastic and smooth her hands accentuated words I couldn’t hear as she filled the cabin with good vibes. Snacking on the grapes i brought with me, I let the miles roll off and remembered the blackberries.