By Brad, Jamie and Dan (Guest Bloggers)
To get to Budapest from Krakow, we had to take a ten-hour, overnight, six-bunk train. As you can see from the picture, it was basically as economical as you would imagine that kind of cabin to be. After the initial hilarity of getting all our stuff onto luggage racks and our bodies into the beds, the train ride was met with mixed reviews: some members of the Warsaw Pact described the train as “the best sleep I had this whole trip” and, with its gentle rocking, “womb-like,” while others, pressed for comment, generally scowled and indicated that the sleep was less than ideal.
That spoke somehow is Bacon The comfort of the train aside, it gave us the added benefit of rolling into Budapest, the capital of Hungary, with an entire day to explore the city. We spent Friday checking out Hungarian food – goulash, of course, plus chicken stew and, most exciting to Brad, a weird way of preparing bacon Hungarian style, where the bacon is somehow cut into a spoked wheel. That evening, we took a tour of the river Danube at night, which was incredible – each of the buildings is lit up, and we were able to see the amazing Castle Hill, the Hungarian Parliament, and numerous other buildings from the river that separates Buda and Pesht (The city is actually broken into two parts).
Castle Hill at night
Saturday was met by Jed and Caitlin coaxing us out for yet another walking tour. Though at least two thirds of Branmie were in severe pain from alcohol intake, sleep deprivation, or both, all three of us managed (with differing degrees of grumpiness) to march behind them as they led us to the tour. The tour was great, leading from the flat Pesht side (where we were staying) across the chain bridge linking (and creating) Budapest to the hilly, older Buda side. We trekked the (painful, but worth it) hike up to Castle Hill, upon which both the Palace and St. Mattias Church sit. We were rewarded with some amazing views of the city on both sides of the Danube.
Saturday evening, we had a reservation at one of the most desired attractions in Budapest – a “puzzle dungeon” enigmatically titled “Claustrophelia.” We were unsure what to expect, except that we would be locked into a room and forced to solve various puzzles to escape. When we stepped into the room listed on our receipt, it immediately locked behind us and a clock began ticking. We proceeded through four rooms of puzzles, with each containing progressively more difficult challenges. Some would lead to keys that would unlock doors into the next rooms; other puzzles would provide us with tools that we could use to get keys or combinations for various locked trunks around the apartment. Eventually (and slightly after the allotted hour), we found the final key to free us from the dungeon – a feat that the attendant later told us was only accomplished by about 30 percent of participants. Yay us!
That led into Saturday night, which we had designated as our big night out in Budapest. Sometimes, people ask, or at least are impressed – or horrified – at our continuing club-going, as most of us press into our 30s. The answer to the “How do you keep doing this once you are old?” question is that it takes much more careful planning than when we were 21, gleaned from years of doing it in Chicago and Vegas. The five of us went down for a several-hour nap after our puzzle dungeon escape, packed our earplugs, were ensured by a club promoter that we would be in an area with plenty of elbow room, and wore only fancy enough clothes to minimally comply with the dress code (“elegant and cool” the website recommended).
The end result was all of us on a platform next to the DJ booth at Legit, a multi-roomed Vegas-esque affair complete with lights, go-go dancers, and bottle service. The outside, however, dispelled the illusion somewhat: the club was located in a relatively seedy city park, under a highway, which led to some fairly sketchy adventures getting to the place. But all was well, and we stayed out way too late as the DJ blasted hits (and new Hungarian favorites).
We will admit that we did fail to finish off one of the bottles of vodka that we had purchased. Jed, ever the philanthropist, handed the remainder to a Hungarian guy who, in return, gave Jed several pieces of bubblegum. Jed kindly informed the gentlemen that together, the two of them had “improved Hungarian-American relations” for years to come, to which the man promised to always provide Jed with gum, whenever he needed it, for the rest of his life. The rest of the night is a blur, with us getting separated, casinos and after-bars being involved, and most of us not getting into bed until after sunrise. Take that, 30s!
Saturday evening, we had a reservation at one of the most desired attractions in Budapest – a “puzzle dungeon” enigmatically titled “Claustrophelia.” We were unsure what to expect, except that we would be locked into a room and forced to solve various puzzles to escape. When we stepped into the room listed on our receipt, it immediately locked behind us and a clock began ticking. We proceeded through four rooms of puzzles, with each containing progressively more difficult challenges. Some would lead to keys that would unlock doors into the next rooms; other puzzles would provide us with tools that we could use to get keys or combinations for various locked trunks around the apartment. Eventually (and slightly after the allotted hour), we found the final key to free us from the dungeon – a feat that the attendant later told us was only accomplished by about 30 percent of participants. Yay us!
That led into Saturday night, which we had designated as our big night out in Budapest. Sometimes, people ask, or at least are impressed – or horrified – at our continuing club-going, as most of us press into our 30s. The answer to the “How do you keep doing this once you are old?” question is that it takes much more careful planning than when we were 21, gleaned from years of doing it in Chicago and Vegas. The five of us went down for a several-hour nap after our puzzle dungeon escape, packed our earplugs, were ensured by a club promoter that we would be in an area with plenty of elbow room, and wore only fancy enough clothes to minimally comply with the dress code (“elegant and cool” the website recommended).
The end result was all of us on a platform next to the DJ booth at Legit, a multi-roomed Vegas-esque affair complete with lights, go-go dancers, and bottle service. The outside, however, dispelled the illusion somewhat: the club was located in a relatively seedy city park, under a highway, which led to some fairly sketchy adventures getting to the place. But all was well, and we stayed out way too late as the DJ blasted hits (and new Hungarian favorites).
We will admit that we did fail to finish off one of the bottles of vodka that we had purchased. Jed, ever the philanthropist, handed the remainder to a Hungarian guy who, in return, gave Jed several pieces of bubblegum. Jed kindly informed the gentlemen that together, the two of them had “improved Hungarian-American relations” for years to come, to which the man promised to always provide Jed with gum, whenever he needed it, for the rest of his life. The rest of the night is a blur, with us getting separated, casinos and after-bars being involved, and most of us not getting into bed until after sunrise. Take that, 30s!
 |  |  |
Sunday, our final full day in Budapest, we saved for the activity that we thought would most likely be best after a long night at the club: the Turkish baths. Budapest has several spread throughout the city, remnants of the city’s Ottoman occupation, and we picked the largest and seemingly most well-known. The baths were incredible, with Turkish architecture and domes overlooking a gigantic indoor courtyard with multiple pools. Inside the gigantic halls were at least 15 more pools, all varying in temperature and in the minerals they contained. We went on a tour through these – sometimes jumping from ice-cold pools into scalding hot tubs – and generally relaxed the day away.
For our last evening, we went to Budapest’s famed ruin bars – run-down apartment buildings that were once abandoned during the days of Communism, but were converted into bizarre, labyrinthine-like bars containing, for example, furniture on the ceilings and a giant sculpture with an owl’s head.
That bizarre image closes out the Warsaw Pact, our amazing experience joining a leg of the Wherever the Wind tour, and an incredible ten days that flew by. We’re happy to report that Jed and Caitlin are basically seasoned world travelers at this point, and it was great to see how well their trip is going first hand. If you can find a way to meet up with them – do! Thanks to Jed and Caitlin for an amazing trip, for refusing to let us slow them down, and for giving us the opportunity to hijack their blog. ‘Til next time!
That bizarre image closes out the Warsaw Pact, our amazing experience joining a leg of the Wherever the Wind tour, and an incredible ten days that flew by. We’re happy to report that Jed and Caitlin are basically seasoned world travelers at this point, and it was great to see how well their trip is going first hand. If you can find a way to meet up with them – do! Thanks to Jed and Caitlin for an amazing trip, for refusing to let us slow them down, and for giving us the opportunity to hijack their blog. ‘Til next time!
RSS Feed