Point2Point

I arrived from the train stacked up on Red Bull after a night of difficult sleep due to the door continuesly sliding open. I made a makeshift plastic bag rope and tied it in place, but niether the train conductor nor border police found this to amusing as they tried to get it in. Yes I was lucky enough to get a compartment to myself, until 5.30am when some large Hungarian women barged in, still their body heat warmed up the compartment a bit I suppose.

First impression of Budapest, wow the train station is really beautiful, one had the slight feeling of stepping back in time when arriving. Little old women prowled the platform offering rooms, touts offered cheap chinese goods, and a lone backpacker barged through them all heading straight for the tourist information office for my free map of this unexpected city.

The metro worked well, kind of. I bought a three ticket pass for around 3,000ft and had it inspected by a little man. Then the metro made little more sense. I think Budapest metro is the only one I have ever been to that does not have a little map to show you where you are going... yes I know its only three lines, but it still helps to know which direction you are going?!!

Surprisingly I made it to the right station in one go, then got quite lost as the directions to the hostel did not account for the building of a new metro line which had blocked off most of areas roads, so naturally I took off down the wrong road for 20mins. The hostel was 10Euro a night, single beds and non smoking, seemed fine. I had a shower, and managed to fall victim to the plumbing breaking and flooded the hostel... nice start... no wonder the girl in charge was not so keen on showing my the obligatory map areas of interest.

I headed out and my first impressions were how beautiful the architecture was all over this city, and how terrible my math is as I took money out too much money from the ATM. The buildings were decorated ornately, and reeked with a neo classical past. I know little about Hungary other than they sided with Germany during WW2. Maybe the British felt it was too beautiful to bomb?!! Speaking of beautiful, there seemed to be a drop in quality in the physical beauty of the ladies in Hungary (all beautiful inside I am sure), but this was made up for in the stunning buildings.

My tourist day started with a trip to Burger King, hey it was right there in front of me (in fact BK, MacDonalds, Subway litter every main area).

I headed up to a giant multicomplex mall in the hope of seeing the hotair balloon the TB (Travel Bible) had suggested would give great views of the city. Of course it was not there, but I did discover a nice roof top garden park at the top of the 5 storey building, not something I had seen before so I was strangely happy. Then I decided to make use of there rather nicely decorated toilets for some sitting time I was denied at the hostel.

I headed up a long shopping street in search of an out door store to buy a new hip bag (I refuse to call them bum, or fanny bags). And strangely enough I found one, not a perfect one, but it would do. the TB made mention of a tourist information office nearby and train ticket office. No ticket office, and the Tourist information guy said it was gone a long time. I headed back up the long road to the train station. Thankfully it was quite easy; Bosnia meant arriving at 10pm while Bucharest meant arriving at 10am... what's more the train also stopped in Branov... he he....

I decided to head for the Danube, and take a stroll. This is when I started to notice two things: 1. my feet were really starting to hurt, 2. I was developing a pain in my upper thighs, friction!! noo, not good.

The Danube was nice... but yes just a big river. I came across a giant impressive building and was denied access to iyt by numerous barricades and police guards, the TB told me it was the house of Parliament, aha, Government. Opposite it was something I got a little excited over, A World Press Photo Exhibition. Not quite worth the 1300ft to enter but it did inspire me to head back out and over to the house of parliament and annoy the police by taking close up photos of them standing around the building!

Oh Boy my groin was in agony... I was starting to hobble. I made my way over to chain bridge as the sun was setting, taking photos of the parliament building and being disappointed by a great photo spoiled by building works. I knew I could not keep walking because of the pain, so I headed to the metro to take a short cut to center to find a place to eat.

Budapest, please goodness start putting directions on your metro telling people which way they are going before they get on board!!! Especially for people crippled with a terrible groin pain developing. I think its got something to do with the yellow signs they use, plus the fact that they have a yellow line. Hmm, so you head off to the blue line, follow the little blue arrows, and then they change to yellow arrows so you assume its the yellow line... nope, it might be, or maybe not. It's quite random I think. Much like that on some stations they tell you where the lines go, well... sometimes... Never on the yellow, and randomly on the blue and red lines.... Must have been designed by a colorblind Hungarian 12 year old. I also failed to find a Hungarian resteraunt, well at least one that did not cost over 10Euro and so settled for a cheap Chinese resteraunt ate plenty and also failed to drink a Hungarian beer due to a bad hungarian/english/chinese translation. I did my lost on the metro act again, shuffling along in small steps to avoid the feeling of skin ripping apart around my upper thigh region heading back at the hostel at 8.30 to find it overrun with young Americans..... ok they were not that annoying but still.... Ok maybe they saw me shuffle in, well actually it looked more like I had a shovel up my butt, so no wonder they gave the showerbreaking shuffler a strange look.

A little internet time set me some good news, and not so good news with my giant up coming visa problems.

I headed to the bathroom and doused my upper thighs in skin cream and hoped for the best, then slipped (no pun intended) into my tiny bed. After a brief conversation with a guy planning a trip around the world on a motorbike... with lots of glitz but little planning. I placed the mandatory earplugs in, and past out.

During the night my thighs were on fire, but thankfully by morning were burning only as much as a 2nd degree burn. I checked my mail and got a silly tip from a silly sexy person to buy a pair of cycling shorts to help with my rubbing/burning problem. hmmm, I asked the hostel worker where I could buy a pair, erm, because I wanted to go cycling in the Carpathian mountains... Internet to the rescue, address in hand I headed off. Time to get the Brasov ticket first, done and dusted with ease after a burger king breakfast. I got the urge to make it a photographic day. So started with the beautiful train station (I am not a train spotter, I swear). Next up I headed up to the castle area in Budapest, right where the bike shop was. After a little map searching I found the shop and did not stay long after finding out they cost around 50euro, and had strange little pads around the bum crotch area?!!

I headed to the huge mall up the road, and found a big sports shop that, yes, had 15euro shorts, still with these strange pads in the crotch area. Also, the sizes were a little ciphered (hey, it is Hungary) and after a brief manly conversation with one of the attendants we decided the xxl were too big. I took a chance, and after a quick superman change in the Mall toilets I emerged painless, albeit feeling like I was wearing some strange male tampon! I needed a feel good fix, Subway tastes good anywhere in the world!

Next up the castle. Again not so massively impressive as expected, and again I was caught out by repair works spoiling the best pictures of both the castle and parliament. Hilton hotels had taken over near the hotel, maybe that was one of the reasons the place was so spotless, and full of those super rich tourists. You know the ones that smoke giant cigars, or really thin ones, and like black Mercedes Bendz. Ok the views were really good, but unfortunately photographically marred by scaffolding.

I got the better of the colorblind metro and managed to swap back and forth under the Danube to get a couple of nice night shots, but it was limited. What else to do at night? After consulting my TB I noticed continental europe' oldest metro line headed right up near that little Chinese resteraunt, hmm. No longer constrict my pain I headed back to the little Chinese place where they actually remembered me from the ay before, and I even managed a polish beer this time.

Tomorrow would be the torture museum of the KGB, which just happens to be next to the little Chinese resteraunt! Hey not my fault the Hungarians do not have there own resteraunts out in the open! Then its to the huge open market to buy some food for the train nighttime journey.

The Train heads off at 5.30pm and cuts straight into the Carpathian mountains into Transylvania during the night under a fully internet confirmed full moon to deliver me straight to Brasov the birth place of Vlad the Impaler, better known as the inspiration to Bram Stokers "Dracula". All Cliches's aside, I did grow up with Hammer House movies so this is boyhood fantasy "2" complete in as many weeks!!

Budapest was a nice surprise, indeed I have no idea why it is not publicized more for holidays. It's oozing with culture, architecture and full of excellent touristy things to do. Ok its a little expensive compared to Poland, and it lacks a central sitting attraction. Ok it has parks to sit in, but in Prague you can sit in a main square and stare up at Gothic architecture, and likewise in market square Krakow, albeit a bit too touristy. Yes you can head to the castle and chill up there, but at a huge cost.

Hungary to me started to pull all of European culture styles together in a wonderful setting. Its like a mix of everything European and more besides. Now it was time to leave again, onto full moons, jagged mountains; legends both fictitious and not so fictitious.