I barely had time to visit Switzerland before Hungary happened. Unfortunately, it looks like my stories are going to get less colorful. Not everyone wants to end up in posts and read about themselves. Especially when it comes to emotions and relationships. I'm already constantly self-censoring anyway, but even so, I still get in trouble. As far as I know, readers are usually more interested in stories about thoughts and feelings than dry facts and lists of places. Apparently, the only option is fiction, not documentaries.
Already a year ago, when the other dwarves and I flew to Prague, we were thinking about a new trip. There were convenient and relatively cheap tickets to Budapest. I was a bit slow on the uptake, didn't buy them right away, and so the flight + hotel ended up costing around 280 euros (for three nights). Then I added another 48 for the right to sip tea from my Chinese tea cups. Meaning, I bought a large cabin bag allowance. Because nowadays with low-costers, you can only grab a small backpack for free.
I've had a lot of work lately. I barely managed to hand over my tasks. I had to do it in a rush right before the train. I arrived in Alfheim on Thursday afternoon, even though the flight was on Friday morning.
But on the plus side, I finally got to chat more with the elf Tarur and his wife Nela, who I usually stay with in Alfheim. I discovered that they have an incredible stash of dark chocolate bars, enough for a year ahead. I marveled at the fact that there are creatures who can store yummy treats and not devour them right away.
I'll also add that I now take a day off before the flight, and a day off after arrival. The day off before is needed to finish up tasks and prepare for the trip. After — to get some sleep, clean the apartment, do laundry, put away my gear, and so on. It's handy.
By the way, nowadays on flights within the EU, they don't even always check your passport. And the boarding pass QR code is scanned by a turnstile, not a guard. I got lucky and sat at the emergency exit where you can stretch your legs. Plus, using my wits, I managed to get a window seat. I convinced an elderly orc lady that sitting at the emergency exit requires knowing English (which is true). And that the flight attendant would kick her out anyway and put me there (which is likely). I mean, basically, I don't really care where I sit anymore, but it's still nicer by the window, especially on a short flight where you don't need to go to the bathroom.
Arrival in Budapest and a walk around the center
We arrived in Budapest without incident, in the morning. Instead of taking a bus to the center, we called a Bolt XL for five creatures. The prices for Bolt are very reasonable, like in Alfheim, maybe even lower. And an actual licensed taxi arrives. The impression of all the taxis was very pleasant. They are clean, the drivers speak the language of Shakespeare, they run on the meter, and there's a passenger rights memo in the cabin.
It has a separate bullet point for the right to turn off or change the music!
It turned out that we were staying right in the famous Gozsdu Udvar. This is a neighborhood in the Jewish part of Budapest, next to the largest active synagogue in Europe. It's known for its bustling day and nightlife. During the day, they feed you here and sell all sorts of souvenirs. I remember soap in woolen clothes, retro-style signs (60s?), Soviet caps, and uniforms. As for restaurants, there are thirty-euro steaks from Jamie Oliver. If, like me, you don't know who he is, or if you prefer vegan food, there's a gorgeous place called Vegan Garden with exquisite dishes made from dead plants.
Once we checked in, we walked past the center and admired the Academy of Sciences building. If you interpret the memorial plaque in my ADHD style, you could figure that Count István Széchenyi went on a diet for a year, and built the academy with the savings. But if you actually read it closely, it becomes clear that the count was someone like Bill Gates. He came up with an equivalent of The Giving Pledge, meaning he donated a year's income from his estates, and convinced three oligarch buddies to do the same. All this went into creating Hungarian national identity and forging them into a single nation.
Then, at my suggestion, we headed to Margaret (Margit) Island. It's basically one big park, and I love places like that. We took the tram. We discovered that Budapest's ticketing system is quite peculiar. To get on the transport, you first have to scan a QR code on the side of the door with an app, otherwise you get a fine. It's a very big hassle: you have to manage it before the door closes, and the code doesn't always scan quickly. Plus, the code isn't very big, and if there are several of you creatures, you have to crowd around and shove each other. We were somewhat taken aback by this approach.
You will find out what we did on the island in the next part.
A walk around Margaret Island
Margaret Island (Margit-sziget) is located between Buda and Pest — the main parts that make up the city. It's called that because Margaret's father, King Béla IV, gave his last (9th child), unneeded daughter away to be a nun. Shoved her into a monastery straight from infancy. He did this to butter up the Lord, asking to be spared from the Mongol invasion. The Hungarians chased those citizens away, and the king quickly changed his mind. Too late! By that time, the daughter had completely lost her marbles and decided to dedicate her life to religion. And not just casually, but hardcore: she wore a hairshirt and a mortification belt. From such an unhealthy lifestyle, she died at 28. But she is revered as a saint, and hey, they named an island after her. A questionable perk.
We sat in a cafe where we learned about the existence of a national dish called lángos. It's something like a pizza, only the dough is deep-fried in oil. They didn't used to make it this way, but now it's the most popular option. The toppings can be anything, but the classic one is sour cream+garlic or cheese. Some of us dug the lángos, some didn't, but no one felt the raptures that travel bloggers do.
After the snack, we stomped further along the island. We stared at the musical fountain, animals, flower beds, and massive trees, still green. Cuteness. There are promenades along the edges of the island, and two bridges at the ends. A good through-road with a bus runs across the island, to make it easy to get there. We saw groups of trendy road cyclists there. It's tough living in the city, there are few places to train.
We walked around until dark, and figured out that calling a taxi was impossible — they're always busy. Makes sense with such low prices. We went back to our neighborhood by bus. It's packed with restaurants, bars, casinos, strip clubs, karaoke, fake drug dealers (scammers), and hookah lounges. The partying on weekends goes on until five in the morning and beyond. We were trying more to sleep at night rather than party, so we had a hard time. Even though my room had double-glazed windows and I had earplugs in my ears, I still felt the bass from the disco, and at times even the din and noise from the party animals. Not everyone was so lucky — the living room studio has single glazing, and my dwarves suffered from the noise.
But you could feel that life was in full swing, pretty positive vibes.
Checking in and searching for a bar in Budapest
By the way, I forgot to mention that we didn't recognize our apartments right away when checking in. We got the wrong building (or entrance). First, we came to a door next to a huge hole in the hallway ceiling. We were even a bit taken aback by such beauty.
Check-in is self-service, the key lies in a lockbox right by the door. Handy, although it's funny that the code consists of the building number and the apartment number. You could, in principle, just not pay and walk right in anyway.
Now back to the present. After returning and taking a short break in the apartments for namaz, we went looking for a bar for fans of that kind of recreation. Even though the whole block is packed with all sorts of venues, for some reason we couldn't do it right away. One of the reasons is that the most popular bars are packed to the brim. The second, apparently, is that with such a quantity, analysis paralysis kicks in. So we kept walking in circles. We went into an open-air spot with an LGBT+ flag. I approve, and I would've hung out there, having never been to a gay bar. But in this joint, despite a ton of space, everything was taken too.
We almost sat down on the benches outside across from the entrance. However, the dwarves couldn't reach a compromise. For some, sitting right on the street brings sheer delight, because it's just like in our youth, punk style. For others — contempt and disgust, because we're already wealthy middle-class IT professionals.
That's how different they can be, these dwarves.
In the end, we landed in some sports-bar hookah lounge called "Habibi" with football on the TV. Totally not my thing, so I had to sit with my back to the TV. I don't smoke hookah either, I don't booze, all in all, I live a boring life. Only one entertainment remains — conversation. Though it seems that here too, everything will be bad. I haven't been getting a proper night's sleep for a long time+constantly delirious from pain, and because of that, often what flies out of my mouth isn't what should be said. Lately, a merciless amount of work has been added to this as well.
Now, there's one hardworking dwarf among my friends, he often trolls me that it's unclear what programmers get paid for. He should just visit my current project to feel the full depth of the enterprise (c) Vasya Shumov.
For the next day, we had scheduled some healing procedures in the famous thermal baths of Budapest, of which there are countless.
