Vacation Saga

I know it’s cliché to say, but I just got back from my weeklong séjour in Eastern Europe and I feel like I need another week of vacation just to recover. I guess the end-of-trip stomach virus could have something to do with my exhaustion, but I will get to that later. I have so much to write, so I’ll try and get to all the important (read: ridiculous) things in one entry.

All in all, the trip was absolutely amazing! I guess I didn’t really think too much about the cities we were visiting before I left (ahem, that I was going to be visiting some post-commie countries), so I had no idea what to expect. Luckily I was pleasantly surprised in each place.

Our first stop was Vienna. Kate and I woke up way too early last Friday morning and boarded the plane for Schnitzel-land. Fighting serious sleepiness, we ventured into the Vienna city center just in time for the rain to start pouring. Luckily for us, we found the bus tour and embraced the touristy-ness of it all for a pretty informative loop around the city. Afterwards we ate a meat and potatoes lunch at a local restaurant. Not bad, but dear God do I have vegetable and fruit deficiency after a week of that cuisine. I’m half-convinced that the stomach bug was the result of eating pure grease for eight days. The next stop was Mozarthaus, aka Mozart’s house, a totally anticlimactic apartment that only minimally covered details of Mozart’s life. I wandered around and hummed the Magic Flute for two hours. After that we retired for a night of taste testing Viennese junk food and watching Olympics. Whatever, I was tired.

Kate’s friend Sheila joined us on Saturday. We saw the rest of the touristy things—Imperial Apartments, Belvedere, the Art Museum (okay well, the outside of the museum), St. Stephens Cathedral, and most importantly the food and drink stands outside of City Hall. There was a huge ice-skating rink, and despite the fact that it was about 50 degrees, people were out and about skating on the slush. I drank spiced punch and watched those poor fools. Saturday night was our one big hurrah; we created our own pub-crawl through the Bermuda Triangle bars. Let’s just say the night ended with me downing a foot long hotdog wrapped in a baguette while the others ate gigantic slices of pizza.

Sunday we finished up Vienna by seeing Schonbrunn Palace. I definitely enjoyed it, even though I had to use one of those damned audio guides. Afterwards we hopped on the train to Budapest, Hungary. Pretty uneventful other than the boozy couple of 80-year-olds next to us on the train. They downed an enormous beer (after struggling for at least 30 minutes to open it) and then the lady took a Jaeger shot. I hope I’m like that when I’m 80. We got in pretty late so we made a visit to the 24-hour grocery and then got some street meat to scarf down.

We woke up the next morning and did a free walking tour. Our guide was great and infused just the right amount of sex-related humor to get a pretty good tip. He made us (well not me) rub the balls of a horse statue and forced us to get our photo snapped with a phallic fountain. I, of course, loved him. We went to an indoor market for lunch to try a local specialty, langos. It was basically a big Frisbee of fried dough covered with whatever you want. I chose cheese, sour cream, chili sauce and ham. Pretty delicious but a definite gut bomb. It started pouring while we were walking around inside so we were forced to buy some cookies at the market and wait it out. Shucks.

We headed to dinner at a place our guide recommended. Not that good. The food is just….not excellent. The redeeming part of the evening was the two pretty cool bars we went to. Definitely local places, they had a really cool, laidback feel. The first one was hosting a DJ who was putting music to slightly creepy cartoons. We were mesmerized. The second one was this place hidden from view. On a deserted street, we never would have found this bar had our tour guide not suggested it. It oozed scene-y coolness. In an authentic, unpretentious way.

An important note about Budapest. THE METRO. The first time it pulled into the station, Kate, Sheila and I almost died. My jaw literally hit the ground. I once watched a movie called Midnight Meat Train (with dear old Yong) and they must have used the Budapest metro to shoot the gory train murder scenes. This thing must have been at least 80 years old. Decrepit and creepy looking, we couldn’t help feeling like we were being rushed to our death every time we stepped inside. I’ll steal some of Kate’s pictures to show you proof. The handle bars hanging from the ceiling reminded me of something butchers would hang their cow carcasses on.

The second day we toured around and then went to the Hungarian baths, which are supposed to be a famous point in the city. I can honestly say that I would have rather swum in the kiddie pool than sat in those filth holes. The water—just barely lukewarm—smelled funky and I couldn’t shake the feeling that soggy band-aids were floating around my ankles. The only redeeming point was the massive outdoor pool. It was hot enough and large enough that I didn’t feel like I was swimming in the other people’s skin cells. The only downside: a skeevy guy swam dangerously close to us the whole time (I HAD to mention him Kate!!). Oh, did I mention that I had to go in my sports bra and underwear? Yea. I naturally forgot to bring a bathing suit, and taking my tour guide’s advice, I decided to sport my skivvies. He said it was no problem! WRONG. The men there were already creepy as hell; add the fact that I was wearing my underwear as opposed to a real bathing suit, and I felt like I was part of a peep show. An old man approaching 100 yelled something to me about amour and j’adore….I cringed.

Kate and I took the night train to Bucharest. 14 hours in a smoky, enclosed space. Luckily we made friends with some Romanian guys our age. After drinking the train’s entire stock of wine, we ordered dinner and then went to sleep. We arrived in Romania and my cousin…..well my grandma’s cousin’s son…picked us up. Kate's friend Chrissy met us in Bucharest that evening ass well. I have to say--both are dears for putting up with my family! Dragosh was an amazing tour guide, never leaving our side. Ever. He personally showed us around Bucharest and took us to Transylvania where we stayed in Brasov. We got to see Dracula’s Castle (letdown) as well as all of the sights in the town of Brasov.

On our way back, I started to feel a little off. This “off” feeling progressed to mock labor contractions, and by the end of the trip, I thought my intestines were going to explode inside my body. Plus, because it was snowing like crazy outside, our two hour car ride home was extended to about 4 and a half hours. I arrived back at the hostel and thought I was going to die. I even contemplated seeing a Romanian doctor (must have been delirious). Dragos, luckily, arrived just in time with a handful of medicine, and I was spared from testing the Romanian healthcare system.

Around 4 am, right as the medicine started to wear off, I woke up to use the bathroom. To unlock/lock our hostel door, the key was needed, so I jiggled the thing in the lock to get out. Nothing happened. I turned the other way. No luck. At this point I started to panic a little. I didn’t want to wake the girls, yet my situation was becoming…urgent. Finally Chrissy woke up. She couldn’t open the door either. I started to weigh my options---window, trash can, breaking the glass in the door to escape. I called the front desk. The woman, who OF COURSE didn’t have an extra key to our room, went outside and waited for me to throw down our key. She literally came in the nick of time, and I made a mad dash toward the bathroom to ralph.

Vacation couldn't end peacefully, could it?

And there is the short...ish...version of my vacation. I have pictures that I'm too lazy to upload and plus I'm about to have to run out of the house to catch my train to go to school. Psh.

Adios!