Budapest, part III - Salvatore bar and Ferenc Liszt International Airport

After dinner, I walked back to the hostel, where I bumped into some of my hostel roommates again - a Chinese guy my age who had just finished a master's degree, and a German guy who was in Budapest for a seminar. There were a couple other people there as well but they didn't really stand out to me. I talked to them animatedly, but had to regretfully cut this delightful dialogue short as I was meeting up with Beniamin and I didn't want to be late for that. I also thought I could buy some more forints, as I was running short.

I walked across town slowly, as Salvatore Bar was about half hour's walking distance from the hostel. I wondered at how different Budapest seemed this time round - it was the same city, but different. Though of course, that was a different year, and a different me, and different places too. Budapest is not a small city and three days apiece is not enough to do it justice, if you want to walk all over the city.

I found Salvatore Bar, and the currency exchange office, which was right across the road and offered the best currency rates in town. After having being thoroughly ripped off at Ferenciek Tere, this was a welcome change. The Hungarian woman gruffly offered me my forints, and I took my newly minted HUFs and sauntered back into the bar and ordered myself two strawberry coladas to start my evening off. After I'd taken my first sip, I thought - yes, this is it, this is the reason I flew halfway across the globe.

I indulged myself rather that day, I must have ordered about 7 glasses of the stuff. Beniamin arrived, and we had a very nice chat. He's a good kid - we don't talk at all when we're in different cities, or during what I like to call the interludes - but whenever I'm in his city I message him and we see each other. We talked a bit about travel friends and I asked him if he'd met anyone else whilst travelling that he'd met up with, and he said, no, just footnote friends that he had on Facebook that he'd never see again. 'This is the third time we've met up,' he remarked, and we both grinned.

'So see you in two years,' he said, raising his beer.

'Not that long, I hope,' I said. The thought of being away from Europe for that long horrified me.

'Well - you don't need to be in Budapest, for us to meet up,' he said. 'You know how much I like travelling for cheap, and Budapest is such an easy starting point for most parts of Europe.'

'Thanks to Wizzair,' I grinned.

'Yes Wizzair,' he said, also with a chuckle.

I went back fairly early, somewhere around 10 or 11. Beniamin was kind enough to walk me back to my hostel, which I really appreciated. I'm still somewhat wary of wandering around European streets on my own well after dark, and the bar hadn't exactly been what you'd call a straight walk from my hostel. We had a good conversation on the way back, though. When I got back most of my hostel roommates were already on their beds, and the room was completely dark, but few of them were truly asleep - most of them were on their phones, the luminescent glare of the screens reflecting their intense faces. I grabbed my gear and went off to wash, then joined them in Intense Phone Perusal, and after about half an hour stowed my phone under my pillow and went to bed.

I woke up at around 7 or 8, and decided that I'd leave the hostel around 9. I planned to take the metro to the terminal station - Kobanya Kispest - where I could catch a bus to Ferihegy, and then my Wizzair flight to Stockholm. I wasn't very happy about being on two flights within 24 hours, but there was nothing else I could do about it. I walked around the Pest part of the riverbank for a bit before heading back to the hostel and packing up. Farewell Budapest for now! I will be back, and I know I'll be back. It would actually be difficult not to go back to Budapest, not least because Wizzair is headquartered there, and it's in such a central location. I arrived at the airport well ahead of time, and walked around a bit. The aiport Wifi was sketchy and not particularly usable, but the airport itself seemed to have been completely redone - it was swankier and larger and shinier than I remembered.

I saw THIS drink being advertised, and I bought it, and let's just say it did look like the pictures, but it tasted absolutely dreadful. I managed through get through about half of it, then threw the rest away because I didn't want to do that to my body.

On a brand new Wizzair jet, and oh I've missed this and you.

Stockholm, here I come!

Georgia? Of course I'd like to go there. I also need a damn visa.

Budapest, part II - Upon the banks of the Danube

I wandered some more upon the banks of Buda, and looked up at majestic Buda Castle, and then out at the Danube River, and wondered vaguely when I might be able to finally visit the Romanian-Servian border and see the Iron Gates. I've wanted to see that ever since I found out they existed, which was a little over two years ago.

One problem I had - one of the few, I'll admit - is my lack of emotions, and too much detachment. I don't really want to believe that this is what two years of graduation and work have done to me. Two years ago I was fresh faced and bursting to the seams with curiosity and vivacity. Apparently I still retain vestiges of that old energy - as told from various random strangers all over central and eastern Europe - but I know it's not the same anymore, that I'm not the pristine, eager 22 year old I was in 2014. I spent the first part of this trip in a happy daze, savouring the fact that I was in Europe again, the second half of this trip moping a bit over You Know Who because perfect measure of hope and despair, and then the third half of the trip half drunk, or nursing Baltic booze-induced hangovers whilst valiantly taking pictures of tourist hotspots. Of course, artistic licence and exaggeration, so please take all you see and read at face value. Still, though - it was slightly disconcerting to have no other thoughts other than vague mental commentaries on the buildings and the scenery and the people passing by.

No matter. I found a restaurant I'd wanted to visit, and I went there with a Chinese girl from the hostel. I didn't have much to say to her, and she didn't have much to say to me either. Our personalities didn't exactly clash, but we just didn't click. And that happens a lot, which is a relief in some ways, because it's exhausting, being perpetually engaged and switched on. She was six or seven years older than me and was in Budapest for her master's degree. Why Hungary and why Budapest, I'd asked. She said it was much cheaper here than in western Europe, which I could readily believe. She was another of those people you find in hostels, the sort who are students or 'young professionals' - hobnobbing in hostels whilst they find a place to put their feet up. I could say something here - quite a lot in fact - but this is a public domain, so I will not be forthright and honest and provocative. I shall only say this: I am a little pleased with myself. That is all.

The restaurant served delicious food, although it was a MASSIVE serving that neither of us could finish, which was a real pity. Very hearty Eastern European fare - lots of potatoes and pork. And as always my favourite goulash soup in the world. No one does goulash like the Hungarians do.

To be continued..

Budapest, part I

I hopped onto a Regiojet express as I mentioned, and bussed it to Budapest, going by Bratislava. On the way I met a lovely Norwegian girl, and we talked without pause from Slovakia from Hungary, which made the journey go by much faster. I remembered wondering if I had already used up my 'amazing people' quota by meeting her. As we talked, I watched the Slovakian, and then Hungarian countryside roll away beneath the regiojet, and happily thought: Yes, I'm back.

Budapest was my first stop, and I'd chosen to go there, or come back, for three reasons: a) there was a simply amazing cocktail bar that served the best strawberry coladas I'd ever tasted; b) there was a 14 EUR flight that I wanted to catch from Ferihegy airport to Skavsta; and c) I really liked the city. 2 years ago I wrote that Budapest and Prague were the most beautiful cities I'd ever been to in Europe, and that if I had the chance I would come back. Prague; not so much, but Budapest, a thousand times over.

I got off at the Stadion stop and took the metro to Ferenciek tere, where my hostel was located. When I got off, I - I'll never forget this - I kind of gaped around the square, and then spent about ten minutes drinking in my surroundings happily. Europe once more; my very first European city after two years, then, and the feeling was so profound that for some time I was speechless. Budapest was the same, but somewhat different, and I thought to myself, well - I'll have to visit some more cities again, because you have a different experience of the city every time you go, it seems.

I located my hostel and checked in, then went out. I didn't have much of a plan; I thought I'd stroll upon the banks of the Danube and go to the cocktail bar again (of course), go to some restaurants for their famous goulash which I'd missed, and then meet up with Beniamin, the Hungarian boy I'd met two years ago in Gdansk. Travel after all is about making yourself happy; and I like to take it easy. For me, being back in Europe was enough. No fancy trips; no sweaty hikes up Gellert Hill. My favourite building as always was the Hungarian Parliament, which in my own opinion is probably the best-looking work of architecture in this part of the world.

Strolling on the Pest side of the Danube.

I decided to cross the river, and I mused upon the Danube, which was rather more turquoise than the murky brown I'd remembered it being back in 2014.

And of course, this is what I came for.

But then of course the sun had to go in.

Flight/ Wien flughafen

SPAR, how I've missed you!

This is an extract from the travel diary I kept with me.

Monday night, upon the CA flight.

Here I am again, like I always am. It's been two years since I was last seated on a long haul flight. Travel is apparently an activity for either the very young, or the old. Not sure which side of the spectrum I belong to. I'm not particularly young anymore, though a lot of people would have me think otherwise, and apparently I LOOK young. For the past four years or so I've been perpetually stuck at the age 21, apparently.

This is a direct flight, O joy - 12 hrs 25 mins, all told. No transfer - that's why I did this. No annoying layover at Hong Kong or Bangkok. Honestly, just the thought of transferring flights is enough to make me feel physically uncomfortable. I spent so much of my childhood in airport terminals and it wasn't exactly what you'd call fun.

Things I am looking forward to: seeing #1b again. Very much so. I think I will spend a lot of time with this journal during this trip. Probably should have brought the other journal, really, the one with more pages. Yawn. The plane's moving now. Time for airline magazines.

I arrived at Wien flughafen right on time at 6am. It was much colder than Taipei, but I've been in Vienna before, and I'd anticipated that. I stepped into the flughafen and looked around, and something deep within me settled with delight, and I felt as if I'd gone home. I spent the first twenty minutes walking slowly towards the Ausgang in a happy sort of daze. I felt as if I'd come home, as if I'd been reunited with a long-lost lover. I drank in my surroundings happily: the cold damp Austrian air, the shiny granite floor, the German, and the rain and dark clouds. It's always raining in Vienna but I like that. I loved everything. I looked around, al most overwhelmed by my emotions. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed Europe and all of this, till now. I wondered if I'd ever loved anyone like I loved Europe. I went into the toilet and - this might be a little disgusting, but still - I smelt the sharp, acidic smell of detergent and disinfect and was reminded overwhelmingly of England and university there. I think they used the same brand. This, I whispered to myself in absurd delight, this is the smell of Europe.

I wasn't going to stop at Vienna, but straight onwards to Budapest. I'd booked a regiojet that would go first to Bratislava, and then to the Hungarian capital - the pearl of the Danube, they call it. I found the bus station (bussterminal) and then went back into the airport SPAR where I wandered the aisles in a sort of ecstasy, drinking in Europe and the fact that I was here, and that this would be mine for the next weeks to come. I got a Starbucks, dug some EUR change out of my pocket, and sipped away, feeling happy as a clam. Then I got onto the regiojet, and made myself comfy, plugged in my phone to charge, and felt a great peace of mind settle over me that I hadn't experienced in a long long time. I thought of all the people I was going to meet and all the places I was going to visit, and above all, I savoured the sensation of being here again, of being out here again, of being on the road and footnote friends and filtering people and all that bass that sometimes gets old but is also sometimes worth it.

Continental #5/ Baltic boogaloo, Prelude

Tallinn, Estonia. And yes, this is the Baltic Sea. 

I'm fresh off the plane and I have a diaryful and a mindful - and a heartful, too - of thoughts and emotions and feelings. And yet this time I am neither melancholy, nor am I clear conscienced.

Fresh off the boat, but off the boat nonetheless, and I can now say with all certainty that, looking back, this was my best trip out of all of them. I am two years older than I was last time and certainly feel older too (and in a bad way), and yet it was a much better experience overall. I met more people, and I met a much higher percentage of people I clicked with. And yet I think I've become less pleasant in the past two years that have elapsed. I certainly wasn't on my best behavior this time. What was it I said to someone - I'm usually a very nice person when I'm sober, I said, but after mulling it over a bit, I realised that in some cases I'm still not a particularly pleasant person even when I am sober. It depends on the person in question and my mood that day. So many people have told me what a nice person I am and how easy it is to talk to me, and my response is always that I'm nice to nice people. That's a direct quote from Jason, but it's oh so true. I'm sure - in fact I am positive - that a lot of people thought I was an absolute and utter tit. I'm not sorry about that, because a) I am generally unpleasant to idiotic people because ain't no one got time for that, and b) I'm not a hippie and it is not free love for all.

This trip also went much more smoothly than continental #4. I seem to remember a lot of stupidly early or late buses and trains, and lots of rushing around. None of that happened this time - well, I did have two early buses to catch, one in Brno and one in Krakow - but that was it. Everything else went perfectly, and again - to paraphrase Kurt Vonnegut - everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. I think I've reached that stage in life where I've really stopped giving very many f*cks because life is - I won't say too short, but it is not meant to be wasted on superfluity. I also let myself go rather during this trip - and that's a good thing, because I've filtered out all the bad and all that's left is the wonderful.

I don't know when I can write full updates, and this will probably have to do for the time being. I'm going to be very busy within the next few days and weeks or so. The beginning of a beginning and the end of an end. Watching Kingsman on my flight back - my direct flight. I love direct flights. I cried with laughter when watching that, there was a lot of hilarious English swearing involved. Funniest movie I've watched in a while. I'll probably try to watch it again when I have time and energy to waste.

Isms? Home is where the heart is. Europe, always Europe, the old world. My love affair with you continues - or rather, it never ended. I'm not sure where my heart is and that's why I travel - because I want to find my heart. And most of all, finding the perfect balance between hope and despair - those are the moments I live for.

Wien flughafen. That feeling when you realise that you don't need a visa to go to any of the cities on the flights departure board.