Budapest drama

Talking of tips, here's one that's worked 3 times out of 3 for me; if you are in a European country that doesn't use the euro and you're not sure about the conversion rate, go to a kiosk at a train station and look at how much a bottle of coke costs - that cost tends to equal around one Euro. In the Czech Republic, a coke was 23 Kc, and the conversion rate is around 24:1. About 5 Polish Zlotys is equal to a euro, which is what a coke cost in the station. It's 300 florints for a coke in Hungary, and you get about 330 to the Euro. I'm not saying it's full-proof and works for everywhere, just that it's been a good barometer for me on this trip. Tell your mates.

It's been 32 degrees in Budapest. Hot. The station into which all the international trains come isn't anywhere near the centre, and, not seeing any clear public transport links, I decided to jump in a taxi and try not to worry about the cost. The cost was the least of my problems, as the driver was an absolute nutter who slung his cab in and out of the tightest gaps and almost-gaps through the traffic of lunchtime Budapest. He took great joy in pointing out 3 different Ferrari's to me which I was very grateful for, but would have been more grateful for a guarantee that I wasn't going to die. I should have been worrying about the cost after all it turns out, as it was £20 for the arse-squeaking privilege.

After sorting out my stuff at the hostel, I walked over the Margaret Bridge to the Buda side of the city and took what felt like a million steps in the heat up to Buda castle. Its a nice place to be, with some beautiful architecture and a fantastic view over the city, and I think I unintentionally but successfully photobombed about a thousand different tourist snaps. I also got to see changing of the guard at the Presidential Palace, which is nowhere near as grand and massively pompous as our own, but equally as rifle-spinningly silly to watch.

The parliament building

At the castle

Jesus on his horse. Or someone, at least

My tour of some of the other landmarks wasn't so successful. I walked back to the Pest side of town over the Szechenyi bridge and up to the cathedral, but it was closed for a concert. Heading north, I made my way to the parliament building, which is totally cut off while they're doing major renovation work to the surrounding grounds. I mentioned in my last post about how it's a small world...well sometimes it's too small; at Katowice, waiting for my train to Bratislava, there was some hippie div on the platform playing with one of those diabolo things. I've just seen the same arse pissing about with it on the lawn outside the American embassy here. Maybe they'll shoot him.

Strictly for arseholes.

There was a pub crawl setting off from my hostel of the ruin pubs, which are a bit of a social landmark, and I thought it would be a good way to see something I had been recommended and also to meet some people. Unfortunately the girl at reception told me the wrong start time and I missed the set off by 15 minutes. I was absolutely gutted, as, having kept myself to myself in Bratislava, I was really up for some human interaction. I went for a bad-tempered walk instead, hoping to at least see the ruin pubs, but I realised after a little while that they were a hell of a long way away, and I felt a bit pathetic walking around on my own. I bought some cans of beer (much less pathetic) and headed back to the hostel.

Sunset on the Danube

When I got there at around half 10, everyone who hadn't gone on the pub crawl was sitting round playing drinking games and having a whale of a time. For fucks sake! I'd missed out on the pub crawl and now I was the outsider here too. I sat in my dorm room seething for about 10 minutes, until NO! I thought, I'm not going to be intimidated by 12 strangers, I'm going out there and muscling my way in! I didn't stride up to them as powerfully as I would've liked, and my 'hello' to everyone was a little sheepish, but at least I'd asserted myself. 3 hours later I was at a rooftop bar listening to repetitive trance music.

The club. Sponsored by Spar, weirdly.

I didn't get to talk to everyone in the group, but everyone I did chat to was awesome. There was Alastair and Rebecca, a couple from Scotland; Matt the Canadian, who said 'eh' a lot; Max the Arsenal fan from North Carolina, but we won't hold either against him, and a group of student lasses from Sheffield. Obviously I refused to tell the girls my age, but the general consensus between them was that I was 23, tops. I shall marry each and every one of them.

Once the rooftop bar kicked out, we managed to find a bar with no roof at all. They definitely play weird music in bars and clubs in Europe, and on this occasion Perfect Day by Lou Reed didn't really set a party mood, but it was still great fun. A lot of chatting later, it was time to leave there too and we made it back to the hostel just as the sun came up. A disastrous night averted.