Budapest (Dec. 18, 2007) -- To quote CCR, "Oh, I'm stuck in a Lodi, a-gain."
There was a recent cartoon in The New Yorker which was of two men, one was a suit tailor and the other a customer. The customer was wearing a suit and was standing on one of those podiums they have in suit shops. In addition to the suit, the customer was wearing one of those wooden sandwich type boards that read, "On Strike".
The tailor said, in the caption/punchline, "This is a European Cut."
So here I am in Budapest, stuck. There's a national train strike going on, so I'm unable to move much beyond the city limits, meaning that it appears that I'm here for the entire week as opposed to my original plan which was to visit Bratislava in some other country and Prague in yet another cold country during my winter week holiday.
But as the bartender said at the Hilton, (a man must have a decent Manhattan while on holiday) "There are worse places to be stuck than Budapest."
And right she was. This city, which was covered in a light dusting of snow when I arrived on Saturday night, is an unusual place.
It's like a once communist high school where the chess club and the debate team are locked in for a never-ending night with the cheer leading squad and the dance team. In short, the women are above average and the men, well, not so much. Lake Wobegon, gone Hungarian.
I've picked up a sizable amount of the language while I've been here. How, you ask, do you say hello in Hungarian? Well, sound it out with me, "Hell-o."
Good bye? Again, slowly, it's pronounced "See-ya."
Throw in a "Ciao" on that to be cheerful. Good night?
"Siesto."
I've heard them saying this to each other. It's not just them saying this to the bundled up American wearing a silly blue sock hat with snow flakes on it who is also sporting a nose that is running like a faucet.
Given that in Hungary, which sided with the Germans in WWII, has a small population of just a few million, a vast majority of the population speaks English, and very well at that.
Hungary is also quite cheap. The euro is worth 250 forint, which was too much math for me until I realized that 500 forint was 2 euros and so on. That made it much easier to calculate. For example, tonight for my dinner entree, my dish was 750 forint while the beer was 950 forint.
The food is wonderfully suited to the cold; filling and heavy. Much more so than French food.
The dollar, as would be expected in these days and times, fares far worse than the euro. A dollar is worth around 150 forint.
But throwing around thousands of anything made me really nervous at first. Now I realize that the six euros I paid on Sunday night for a Manhattan and a beer at the Hilton was a fine deal. And then, afterward, I went to a movie for three euros.
One strange thing about the movie visit was the question, "Do you want to sit in the back, middle or front?" I'm not sure where was more expensive or cheaper, but there was not a person to make sure where I sat, in the middle. They do sell beer at movie theaters but they won't let you smoke. Kind of surprising since these people really like to smoke.
So it's Budapest for a week unless the train for Bratislava is running at 1:30 tomorrow afternoon.
The risk here is that I can't get back to Budapest for my flight back to Paris on Friday.
I have to be into work on Sunday afternoon, leaving me a day of wiggle room.
I hope that isn't the case. Budapest isn't all that bad, despite the bone chilling cold. But like I said
to the bartender at the Hilton, "Yeah, it could be worse. I could be stuck in Bratislava."
Hope this dispatch finds you warm and snug.
See ya, ciao.
Take care,
Brett
