Viennapest - The Start of the Last Leg

We woke up to a snow-covered Vienna. Again, we slept in, past our intended wake-up. Christine has prepared a ‘light’ breakfast for us but then proceeded to pack us an entire snack bag for our train ride. She also figured out how we could buy train tickets and tried to find out if they would really cost us 120 euro a piece – a rate that seemed outrageous for a three hour ride to Budapest. It’s cool that in Europe, you just get on the train and go to another major historic city in just a few stops.  Christine gave us some parting gifts, pumpkin seed oil, ligenberry jam, and chocolate, you know, for our parents or something. Also, this situation was illogical because she had just displayed outrageous kindness and generosity for 48 hours to strangers and then continued to lavish gifts and warmth upon us. Doubtful the chocolate will make it back.

Sydney and I got to the train station (Meidling Banhof) and delighted to find out the tickets would be about ¼ of the price quoted online. We picked up one last topfenstreudel before boarding the train. The cheesecake-like pastry delight turned out to be a lifesaver. On the miserably crowded train, we sat cramped between the doorways, on the floor, like the Boxcar Children. I was just thrilled to be moving onto the next stop. Eventually, after many failed attempts to charade our way into strangers’ seemingly empty seats, we reneged on our German/Hungarian/English/Spanglish/Unofficial Sign Language and found a rather uncomfortable loveseat bench in the restaurant car. We finished off the topfenstreudel and watched the wind turbines outside, each working busily on our computers on something or other no longer so memorable.

Getting off the train in Budapest, we got super-ripped off changing money over in order to get our first forints. This absurd currency has nonsensical coin sizes and crazy denominations. It’s not unusual to carry around a 20,000 forint bill - because that’s under $100.

Sydney and I figured out the metro and made it to our hostel just as our Northwestern group arrived. This leg of the trip was an Alternative Break with Hillel, an integrated tourism and cultural engagement program around Budapest. In its inaugural edition, it’s sure to be full of surprises, mistakes and memorable moments.

Thirty of us broke down into a few tables in a back room of ‘traditional Hungarian restaurant’ around the corner from the hostel for dinner. You could totally tell by the authentic guitar and accordion duet (yea, right, totally) that the place was so authentic because everyone loves aggressive music for tips while they’re eating on jetlag. We were served goulash and chicken paprikash – I had a mushroom soup and fried cheesey nuggets, but I heard the traditional dishes were delicious and I was pleased enough with my option. I began to worry about how Passover would go, starting just the next day.

The group went on to Szimpla Bar, the most popular and famous destination for debauchery among foreigners. This massive cavern of endless ruined rooms is known as a ‘ruin bar’ – it’s just filled with weird junk. Chairs range from old car seats to a gymnastics bar, and graffiti and hookah smoke smother the walls. Sometimes, you feel a drip and you realize, oh, this room is actually outside. Others have no windows. 

We enjoyed some cheesy bread and quite the people-watching before heading home. This city, both the sights and the people, is intriguing.