Middle-aged, Hungarian friends? Yes please!

So, the train ride to Budapest…first of all, it was supposed to be a 7-hour ride, which both Ruth and I were quite excited for, because we both have really taken to the joys of train travel – the rolling European scenery, the quiet time to read and write and think and listen to music…all was well until we crossed the Czech border, not directly into Hungary, but into Slovakia, which unfortunately our Eurail passes don’t cover. So, come Bratislava, we got booted off the train, a rude awakening amidst our peaceful ride, but an adventure, to say the least! We had four hours in the Slovakian station, then, before the next train to Budapest, which we passed in a SUPER sketchy waiting room, playing scrabble, reading (I am reading “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay” which has wonderful references to Prague that are so much more exciting to read when you have actually seen a place), and having a Cultural Experience in the Slovakian public restrooms, aiee…

Our delay put us into Budapest at 10:30 at night, at which time we had our first not-so-awesome moment…aside from the train station being deserted and sprinkled only with assorted sketchy characters trying to sell us things, the directions to the hostel we had booked were pretty useless, the public transportation was confusing, no one picked up the phone when we called the hostel the first time, our own cell phones cut out the minute we DID reach them, it was freezing outside the streets generally deserted, no one spoke a word of English, and this super-sketch dude with long scraggly hair, a trench coat, and major beer breath came around for the third time to harass us to stay at his hostel. This was my “Aha, I knew backpacking in Europe couldn’t go perfectly forever” moment.

And then things started looking up. Turns out Mr. Super-Sketch was actually a really decent, genuine human being, bent on helping us out…admittedly, a salesman at heart as well, just looking to fill up the beds in the hostel he worked for, but a seriously nice guy – a 44-year-old Transylvanian, in love with beer, cigarettes, and Guns ‘N Roses, going by the name of Ziggy. Trusting our intuition (though still paying close attention to our doubts and qualms), we decided to forfeit our other hostel’s reservations and follow Zig a few blocks away from the railway station. Despite a seriously creepy looking exterior to the building, we went inside to discover a stunningly cute and wonderful hostel inside, reminiscent of a little ski cottage, only a couple rooms, all extremely cozy, where we did wind up staying the following three nights. We shared a few beers with Zig the first night, already making humor out of how sketchy we thought he was, and lamenting the fact that people have to be so suspicious of strangers, thanks to the world today.

The following day, Ruth and I spent six straight hours in the thermal waters of one of Budapest’s most famous bath houses – one of the most relaxing experiences of my life, sitting in a number of thermal pools, ranging from a cool whirlpool to hot Jacuzzis, and a crazy menthol steam room. It was incredible to just sit back and relax completely, to get to talk with Ruth for hours, to not have to walk anywhere or be anywhere or do anything. Perfect.

That night, though, we made up for our decadent lethargy :) by going out for a night on the town with Zig, an American in his thirties named Andrew who was also staying in our hostel, and another older Hungarian guy – Ruth schooled Zigs in pool, and we had a mostly good time, minus Zig getting a little alcoholic-sad, evidently because he had decided in his drunken state that he was in love with me…which, of course, I wasn’t all too keen on, despite thinking him a very nice person. Later, we went back to the hostel, Ziggy passed out, and Ruth and I stayed up until the wee hours playing poker with Andrew and a charming Australian guy named Danny who moved into our six-bed room at the hostel as well that night.

The following day, Ruth and I went out in the city to see a few of the sights – Parliament’s building, the castle, the chain bridge over the river, the caves underneath the castle, etc…Budapest is a pretty gray city, overall, not nearly as beautiful as Prague, and it has a kind of universally deserted, almost surreal feel to it. I’m sure that’s partially due to the time of year, but I was none too fond of it. The people we met were really what made our few days there…

With that said, our last night in Budapest was pretty fantastic – we went out with a whole crew of older guys this time, all in their thirties and forties, ranging from the previous night’s crew to a host of new folks, Hungarian, Canadian, basically from all over, for drinks, copious amounts of foosball, jukeboxing and a little dancing, and general good times. Still, a little sketchiness given Zig’s obsessive ardor for me that increased in direct proportion to how much alcohol he imbibed, but overall, it was a decent, fun-loving, crazy group of guys with whom to spend our time in Budapest. They all came to the train station at 10 a.m. the next day for a morning beer (I’m telling you, these Eastern Europeans observe a never-ending happy hour in their day-to-day lives) and to see Ruth and I off on our train to Vienna, accompanied by Danny, who decided to take the train with us and chill for a night in Vienna as well before going on his merry way.

Oh, life! Athens, here we come…