The Best of Chicken Crate Seating

Was training to Munich a money saver? This has not been proven yet, but time will tell. We initially decided to book our flights to Panama from Munich since the difference in fare between there and Budapest as a departure point was significant. MÁV the Hungarian train company offers a special for €29 Euros each person to travel between the 2 cities. Reservations cost another €5 more according to the site, but we were charged €58 total with assigned seating. Way to go! 

At 6:50 am we were at Keleti station and so was our train. Boarding according to the car, we found our seats without issue. This train did not have the cozy compartments shared by 6-8 others in second class. They were spread throughout the car, some two-seat configurations on each side of the aisle and some foursomes with two by two facing each other separated by a narrow table. This is where we were placed, a foursome with two seats opposite two other seats. Unfortunately, the train was filled beyond capacity. Not only was every seat filled, but hordes were standing in the aisles and by the restrooms creating a wish list with a place to sit as the number one priority. That said, we were squeezed into this foursome with less mobility than a chicken being raised by Perdue. Adding to the misery was the cold. The air conditioner was blasting out of the vents with an outdoor temperature of 31 degrees Fahrenheit. It seemed like the Hungarians were torturing the traveling masses as a punishment for emigrating. Truncated and freezing, we had dreams of warmer and roomier times ahead. 

By Vienna, three hours later, the train emptied out. Oxygen returned to the cars; you could feel the contracted sides of the cars expanding once again as they were filled like expanding lungs. Three hours down and three more to go, but we could move our legs, once the cramping pain subsided. Austrian conductors are less immune to complaints. Once we were in Vienna, the A/C went off and the heat came on.

Finally after arriving in Munich, we had to hunt down the tourism office for directions to our hotel. We specifically chose an airport hotel due to our early morning flight. The assumption was they would have shuttle transportation to get us to the terminal on time. Ron booked a Mövenpick hotel using Priceline.com, starting his bids at $45. He scored at $65 for the one night. To get there was a hassle, which we did not realize. First, we took the S-Bahn for umpteen stops after paying €10.20 each for a one way, one use ticket. Once we reached our stop, we had to wait for a bus. This was included in the ticket, but a freezing rain had started. After a ten minute wait, the bus arrived. This bus stopped at significantly more stops than the schedule showed, but luckily, there were display signs showing the stops. Almost directly across from the stop we were told to get off at, was the hotel, set back a football field distance from the road.

Settled in the room, which was more than adequate, we realized we were held hostage here. There was nothing the area, so a car or bus ride were required to escape. Dinner was at the hotel, expensive, but delicious. Shuttle rides to the airport are €8 per person. Breakfast is extra, but we chose to bypass it.

When we ventured to the lobby at 6:30 am on Sunday, there was a coffee machine and croissants set out. Once we had our coffee and took a croissant, the machine was turned off and the pastries were removed. No distractions from buying breakfast, I guess.

After arriving at the airport and having checked in, we looked for the Diner’s Club lounge. It was not to be found. This was a dedicated Lufthansa and United terminal, so the only lounge was Lufthansa. The DC lounges were in the other two terminals, but not one we could access. A minimal breakfast ran us €27. 

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The Other L Word

The train ride was painless, not at all what I had anticipated. I don’t do well in confined spaces for very long, if I know I cannot escape from them. I had not even considered the lack of air conditioning, but of course the weather did not disappoint. It was in the 80s. Some train person had the foresight to open every window on the train. The cross breeze made it acceptable. We were in a cabin for six, but only one thirtyish-year-old man asked to join us. No one bothered to look at our tickets for the first two hours; by that time we were in Veszprém. An hour later, the man left us and we had six seats to ourselves.

We had cleaned out the fridge, taking food that would spoil with us for our meals. Loaded down with four sandwiches, extra cheese cut into thick chunks, two beers (they do spoil when unattended), a large bottle of water, three tangerines, and assorted other goodies, we looked like a catering service. What the conductor happened to walk by again, he looked in, said something like “Oh, you are Hungarian. Good appetite”, in Hungarian of course. 

During the trip, I finished the novel that I started when the train pulled out of Deli station: The Dressmaker, by Elizabeth Birkelund Oberbeck. I only brought one other book with me; I am thinking I should save that for the trip home otherwise I will chew on my foot out of boredom. There were plenty of catnaps in between reading, so it wasn’t all recreation. Sleeping on a train takes stamina holding your head in place. It’s not easy.

We arrived fifteen minutes late, in the other L word, again better than expectations. There were innumerable stops for ten to twenty minutes, but no passport control to hold us up.  We had no idea where to go to find our hostel once we arrived. We only had 2 ½ months to prepare for this, but that is a map thing. Everyone knows I don’t do maps, but Ron is Mr. Map. He fell by the wayside on this one. We walked 2 blocks in the wrong direction, before we asked for directions.

Once we were turned around, our hostel was a breeze to find. I have to say even in the dark, this city has more graffiti than Budapest ever thought possible and that is a real stretch. The hostel is a converted prison. Our room is an old cell, needless to say, there is only one window that opens on high, with bars on it, preventing any cross ventilation and is HOT. The temperature when we arrived was still in the mid-80s. More about the hostel later. It is time for a b and b = beer and bed.

For those not in the know, The L Word was a television show on cable TV.

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Leaving on Railjet Train

We are leaving in an hour for Ljubljana, Slovenia by train. It will be a grueling 9 1/2 hours of travel for 3 days of tourism before boarding the train to return. Needless to say, there are no budget airlines and the train tickets were only 39 Euros a piece, so with a few good books packed, we are off.

I will have my trusty netbook with me to capture the day at the end of each and of course my camera. If there is WiFi, I will share as soon as possible.

If you don't understand the title of this post, click here.

TTFN all!

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Sigulda Anyone?

Ron had read about these castles that were a short jaunt from Riga. Angeles assured us it was worth the trip, only an hour and a quarter from Riga. The rail tickets cost us 5 lats for 2 round trips. Quite cheap!. The Riga train station is like a city unto itself. It is like a NYC station with dozens and dozens of restaurants, candy and souvenir shops, and other types of stores offering everything from The Body Shop to practical goods for the locals. We were a bit confused about where the tracks were, but this nice workman in overalls led us to it.

Trains are modern and comfy enough for a snooze on the way; any motion puts me out like a dose of anesthesia. At the other end of the spectrum, the Sigulda train station looks tired and old worldly. Being a tourist draw, the directional signs are quite frequently spaced, though only in Latvian, if you have an idea of where you are going it works. The first stop is always the tourism office. Here there is a young, perky woman who is beside herself with the pleasure of assisting us with a map and route to take. There must have been some residual sleepiness from the train ride. I did not turn and flee when she mentioned that the planned route would take 3 hours to complete. After a second glance at us, a moment’s hesitation, she corrected herself to 4 hours.  Normally, when hearing 4 hours of exertion, I would have pointed out that we were here for the day, not a week.

She must have read my mind, the first stop she marked was her choice of a bakery and the last one we would see in daylight hours or in this lifetime if this 3-4 hour hike did me in entirely. Everything in the bakery looked worthy of a gourmet magazine spread. That is where the appeal ended; what the goods lacked was flavor. At least we were sugared up for our walk. 

We had missed the change of the color of the leaves by about a week or two. There were barely any left for the trees to shed like the last remains of dandruff. With the crispy, but not freezing air, we made our way to a historic Lutheran Church. More for warmth than decoration ideas, we wondered in. We were immediately greeted by the woman who makes sure that all visitors pay something for the privilege of entering. She was successful in talking us into going upstairs where there was a special exhibition. Two dozen pictures were formed entirely from buttons of various sizes, shapes, and colors. St. George slaying the dragon was extremely impressive, but other non-religious themes were incredible in the originality of buttons. Sew I kept trying to find the common thread that would knot them together, but not being able to kept me in stitches.   

With a little twisting, turning, and Mr. Map navigating, we found the first of two castles, appropriately named the New Sigulda Castle and the Old Sigulda Castle. Reaching the new one first is rather disappointing. It looks too modern to be named 'castle', basically because it was built in the nineteenth century for the Kropotkin family. Who are they? Heck if I know. 

Beyond the new castle across some pretty dried up river are the remains of the thirteenth century Old Sigulda Castle.  Photo, photo, snap, snap, still 3 hours to go before this trek is over. Get a move on it.

Our long walk was to take us to a cable car which would bring us in the same county at the next castle. When we finally found it, there was a marathon going on so many areas were roped off. We did see the ‘cable car’ in the distance, but it was really a chairlift. I who am so afraid of heights, stepping on my tiptoes makes me dizzy, was not looking forward to this. Ron went to buy the tickets, showed the map to the young man, but the response was directional movements. This was not the cable car. We had to follow a path to get to it. As we walked away, Ron expressed his gratitude that we did not have to ride that contraption. My relief was expressed in silence. 

With great luck the temperature was brisk, not yet freezing. Across this paddock the size of three football fields and another mile of trails, we found the cable car. We were in luck. It was scheduled to leave in 2 minutes or we would have had to wait for forty-five more. I kept imagining how gorgeous the scenery must have looked just a few weeks ago with the forest trees covered in multi-hued leaves.

 
At the end of the cable car ride, I was expecting a castle. Strangely, it was visible from the cable car, but not even close to the direction we were headed. I had hopes that the cable could do shift to the right at the last minute at least getting us to the moat, but that was not to be. Once we disembarked, there were trails to follow down, around, down some more and around a whole circuit. I always have this fear that if you go down, eventually you are going to have to go up, up, and up some more. Most of the time it is when you are the most tired, cranky, hungry, and just want to be home. The definition of the Pleasure Principle was now eluding me. 

Yes, the scenery was lovely. We passed a cave where legends formed surrounding a fair maiden and the all the horrors that befell her. You know the usual tale where the woman is victimized, but becomes a great legend for generations thereafter. Eventually, the trail ran out as we came to a two lane motorway. Thinking that this could not be right, we hoped there was a shortcut at the seasonally closed campground across the street. Luckily for us, some young people parked their car in the lot to go explore the cave and relive old legends or create new ones. They assured us the castle was indeed at the top of the hill and the only route was following the road. 

With barely a path that mountain goats could negotiate, we continued forward. Now I am not great at math, but I used to use a treadmill in California on a regular basis. When I spotted the sign that showed the road had a 12% incline to it, I knew I was in trouble. I will swear it was a ten mile hike up that hill, so when Ron says it was only 2, don’t believe him. It does not matter, because at that point, all I could focus on was that there was a public bus that would take us directly to the train station.
 

We made it to the Turaida Museum Reserve where Turaida Castle sits as one of the ancient Medieval Castles of Latvia. Building began in the early 13th century as the residence for the Archbishops of Riga. Originally on this site was a wooden castle built by the Livs. Throughout the history of this castle, it had been conquered by the Polish, Swedish and Russian warriors, but not all at one time. In 1776 fires destroyed a number of buildings of the castle. It was not until the middle of the 20th century that restoration was begun. Turaida Castle is one of the most investigated monuments in the Baltics and the most visited in Latvia. The park also houses other buildings such as a Lutheran Church, a ranch of some sort, which we did not investigate, and a fantastic stature park. Spread across acres is a humongous open air museum of sculpted modern statues. None of them have names or refer to the artist(s). 

Four hours to get here, but the bus ride was ten minutes. We went to a Latvian buffet for dinner, though Angeles had told us “they” try to avoid it because it is a chain. It was cheap, the food was delicious, and you can pick and choose exactly what you want. A day well spent and the weather held out for us.

Related articles

• When the sun shines, the Baltics come into their own (independent.co.uk)

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Kenyan Train Experience

Our time in Mombasa ends today. We leave on the train from here back to Nairobi. Unfortunately for us, we have to check out by 10am. Our train does not leave until 7pm, but we need  to be there by 6pm. That is a whole lot of time to kill doing much of nothing. After breakfast and storing our luggage, it was still cool, so we took a tuk-tuk to Fort Jesus. We had gone there before, but had not gone in. When we reached the top, we found that contrary to what we were told, there is an entrance fee of 800 shillings (8 euros). From what we could see from the gate, it was not worth the money, so decided against it.

Beyond the fort was a walkway that lead to the water, so we went down there to enjoy the scenery and waste some time. We followed the walkway, which took us into Old Town. Most of the shops are souvenir stores, proprietors begging you to visit and look over their wares. It continually reminds me of the number of African pieces that have been imported to the US over the decades. Stores in CA have been selling many of these products for years, one such store's mottos was "We shop the world so you don't have to". Well here I am shopping the world, but have seen it all before and have a lot of it in storage, so there is no need to buy it again. How many ebony giraffes or sandstone sculptures does anyone really need? We really tried to spend time here to wait out our late train, but it was a strain. Stopping near a restaurant, we were greeted and asked to come in. Wanting a drink we obliged and looked at the menu. A date shake sounded interesting, so I ordered it. "Sorry, finished, no more." Second attempt was the avocado juice, something I will never get anywhere else. "Sorry, finished, no more." Rather than continuing to play this game, I asked what they did have. Tamarind and orange juice. Fine, tamarind it is then. Another couple came in, looked at the extensive menu and tried to order lunch. Same story "Sorry, finished, no more." for her first three attempts. She wizened up fast and said "Why don't you just tell me what you do have." As it turns out, they only had one meal available. Why they bother with the menus is a puzzle.

The porcelain god was calling again. I knew my chances of finding something suitable here were slim to none, so we thought it best to head back to the hotel to use the public facility. From 1:30 to 6pm, we were held hostage at the patio restaurant. To ease our conscious of waiting, we ordered a beer, then a water, this was followed by two samosas, later more samosas. I think the staff thought we were going to take root there. We had a table under a fan, so I didn't want to forfeit it by leaving and returning later. We sat and read our books the entire time, making good use of the public facilities, but making me leery about a long train ride.

At 6pm, our driver Dennis, from the previous day came for us and drove us the fifteen minutes to the train station. He should us where to present our tickets. We were assigned our car and a porter took us with our luggage to it. The train station looked like something from an old time movie. All of 2 tracks, there was our train like a giant centipede, waiting for us. Our assigned car was about twenty-two cars toward the front. This is one of the oldest train lines in Eastern African running from Uganda. Not knowing what to expect, since our tickets were only $40 each, we bought a supply of water and a few snacks just in case. We had paid for 1st class, which was a sleeper and included dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning. Our sleeper room looked like any European train's sleeper car. Due to the heat, we waited on the platform until it was ready to roll.

By 7pm, the departure time, the announcement was made that the train was ready to go. We were in our seats, a long lounge type seating with an upper bunk that came down for a second bed. Within fifteen minutes, we were called to the dining car for dinner. It was suggested we take all of our valuables with us. I keep them all in my shoulder bag, so no worries.

The dining car tables were spread out with linen table cloths and china. They started with soup and then we had the choice of a beef, chicken or vegetable dish. Dessert was a fruit cup accompanied by coffee or tea. By 8:30pm we were ready for bed, because our overhead light was not fully functional, making it difficult to read. The porter had our beds made within ten minutes. The window opened and had a screen on it, which was fortunate because the fan did not work at all. By this hour, it was black out; there was no scenery to try to pass the time. I love the rock and roll of a train, so was looking forward to a great night of sleeping, but it was interrupted by having to get dressed to use the facilities down the hall. The toilet paper disappeared rapidly, so I went armed with my tissues and every paper napkin I could get my hands on in the dining car. Other than a lot of fumes coming in the window, exhaust type pollution, I slept well. It was a comfortable experience. We are due into Nairobi around 7:30am, but have been warned by others that it could be as late as 11:30. We have no pressing engagements, so it does not matter.

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Szeged - Paprika Capital of Hungary

Mea culpa times three. There I said it and I am truly sorry. For years now, I have been saying that once you have seen one Hungarian city outside of Budapest, you have seen them all - the Deja vu experience I called it. One more time for good measure, mea culpa. Ron and I took the 2 1/2 hour train ride to Szeged today so I could do some research for my upcoming book. The section on Szeged is small as is Eger, but still there was a burning need to refresh my memory of these smaller cities. According to http://www.citypopulation.de/Hungary-Cities.html#Stadt_gross, Szeged ranks number four in size, but Eger is not even on the top eleven list. On an IC train, we were surprised at how crowded it was. Why weren't all of these people going to Balaton instead? With Mr. M on his own adventure, I could not keep him from popping up in my mind. He had to catch a train at 6:30 this morning. We reached ours at 9:30 am. He had a seven hour train ride ahead of him to reach his destination, we had two and a half hours. He had two to three hours at his destination before returning again, we had all day. He had another seven hour ride to get home, we had two hours and fifteen minutes. Oh, life is good. It also occurred to me that with a perpetual mantra of "What should I do? What do you think I should do?", he reminds me of a remote control toy with the toggle controls in someone else's hands. He just goes where directed, without much self-control. When he crashes into a wall, he can certainly blame others. He did not direct himself there; someone else set him on that course of action. Back to Szeged. This is another city we have not trained to before. The last time we visited, we came by bus with Fulbrighters. The train station is beautiful, but like Eger away from the city center. A full day transport ticket was 750 Forints and the tram directly outside took us to one of the main squares from where we walked most of the day. A healthy person could easily become a sugar comotose mess here; there are more pastry shops than there are restaurants. Each of them have similar versions of all of the basics, so it is vexing why one would choose one over the other. Checking hotels and restaurants for the book, we allowed ourselves to take in some sites too. We found architecture, which I had web researched for the last edition, but had not seen in person. Stunning!! Szeged is lovely in parts, but it is spread wider than Eger, so to get from interesting point A to interesting point B is not as compact. Being a Saturday, everything was closed by 1:00 pm, even the little convenience stores that we rely on in Budapest for when the grocery stores close for the day. Interesting! Also, we were hard pressed to find a hotel in the heart of downtown, with one exception, but its looks were so unappealing from the lobby view, I could not bear to walk in to offer a reader recommendation. They will have to deal with the two that I have. The weather was congenial. Not a drop of rain fell from the sky, though I did pack an umbrella, which I would have shared with Ron had the need arose. All in all, we had a delightful and productive day, home again lickety split by 10:00 pm.

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Choo Charlie at it Again

Ron and I were going to train down to Szeged, far south in the Hungarian plains so I could do some current research for my next book. The Divineless Mr. M decided he wanted to go with. He came to meet me and after an errand he needed to run on the way, we went to the MAV office, the Hungarian train official office. As it happen, it was raining yet again, our seventh or eighth day of rain. I cannot be sure, my calendar is too soggy to read the exact number of days. Mr. M still has not bought an umbrella, though he has been here since August. Not tempted to share mine as it is only a one man size, when we passed a brolley dealer, I pointed out to Mr. M the divine color arrangements, sharing which would complement his complexion while keeping his shaved dome dry. He was all atwitter for a whole two minutes until he asked the price. The poor dear who spends her day out in all elements trying to make a living wage, whips out her calculator and punches in 800. From the reaction of my walking mate, one overhearing his reaction would have thought she asked for his first born. "Four dollars for an umbrella?", he shouts "I could get it in NY for three." Yes, I say, but the trip to NY would certainly detract from the savings of $1.00 and certainly your NY days are well in the past. You have not lived there for years now. Umbrellas there are most likely up to $6.00 or $7.00 at least. Regardless of my persuasive skills, he chose to ignore a practical purchase and I continued to justify my lack of sharing my mini-brella with him. This from a man who has a degree in Social Work, decries the flood of illegal immigrants into the US, yet would support child labor from third world countries to save himself a buck. Somewhere in my karma I must have been tagged with a sign that shows "Befriend me, I need to have my values perpetually clarified by your warped thinking and words." I cannot comprehend how I do attract people in my life like this. It is a burden. Mr. M had the plan to wander off to Szeged with us, only to continue on to Serbia for the day to have his passport stamped. His Visa was running out and needed to leave and reenter the country to gain another 90 day stay. However, since the world is out to persecute him, the Hungarian train system was out to get him too. There are no trains from Szeged to Serbia even if it is only inches away on a map. If he were to follow this plan, it would mean an overnight train there and one back again, just to collect a stamp. Instead, he second choice was to go to Zagreb in Croatia, which ruled out Szeged. His final solution was to travel seven hours to Zagreb, tour the city for two to three hours and climb aboard yet again to spend a relaxing seven hours to return to Budapest. The weather report showed that there was an eight-six percent chance of rain tomorrow regardless of destinations. I wonder if he will find a cheaper umbrella in Croatia.

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Eger or Bust

I finally pinned down Michael to join me on a sojourn to Eger, a town I need to research for my book. It was up in the air between Eger and Szeged, since I have to do both anyway. He thought if we went to Szeged, he would be able to take a jaunt over the border to Romania to have his passport stamped. His student Visa runs out on June 22nd, so he has to leave the country and reenter on a tourist Visa. Szeged and Romania look like a short distance on the map, but getting from Point A to Point B is as convenient as preparing Baked Alaska on a campfire. First you have to go to northeastern Hungary, a two hour train ride, and then go to the Romanian border, another four hours. Now he is left searching other options, but he committed to the day's trip. Eger is only two hours away, but we will have to fly around once we get there. The TourInform office closes at 1:00 pm on Saturdays; please, please do not let the train be late. With the Google Latitudes map in the right panel of this blog, you can check my whereabouts as I move around. If it ever seems like it never leaves Akacfa utca, you know I am home plugging away at some work task.

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Choo Choo Charlie Melbourne to Sydney

Our train trip was booked from Melbourne to Sydney; however, we received an e-mail stating that due to track work, we were being bussed to Albury. From there we were to be switched to a train for the rest of the trip. The bus was space challenged; they had to run three buses to accommodate all of the people. The ride was three hours; shockingly, it went by rather quickly. We were met by train personnel who pointed us to the correct car. The train, albeit comfortable was not like the last train we used, but each are run by two different companies. The seating on this one was 2-2 seats, which were not that wide to begin with. This also lacked car service, we had to go fetch food from the dining car and bring it back to our seat. We had not shopped for and packed munchies, so we did the mad dash to the dining car as soon as it opened to avoid the rush. The highlight was when they announced there would be Devonshire tea service with raisin scones, clotted cream, jam, and tea and then came around to take orders.

We did not pull into Sydney until 8:30 pm,. There was a long line for a taxi as they were only coming one at a time. After we acquired one, the driver was on the phone the whole time, took us about four blocks after circling the city and charged us $10.00.

We are at the Macquarie Boutique Hotel, situated above a bar in the central business district. Reception was closed by the time we arrived, so we had to check in at the bottle shop or liquor store associated with the bar. I had trepidation turning over $1,143.00 AUS to the cashier of the store. He did not have anything to give me as a receipt either. That was unnerving.

Our bed is extremely comfortable, but the room has no windows and is on the small side. The bathroom, the first private one we have had this trip, is cramped. Because the hotel took out the dining area, our continental breakfast is a breakfast in the box already on the desk waiting for us. We have a hot water heater to make coffee or tea, and in the box is a single servicing cereal, a box of milk, one of juice, a plastic bowl and spoon, and the bonus is a bite size granola bite.

After a walk about, we stopped at a Spanish Tapas restaurant, but each tapa started at $14.50 and went up from there. Deciding against a $100.00 dinner, we just had beer and then grabbed a slice of pizza on the way back to the hotel. From what we have seen in our short walk is that there are lots skyscrapers. Lots of skyscrapers. It almost causes a claustrophobic feeling, blotting out the sky at nighttime.

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The Overland Train - Adelaide to Melbourne

When we first planned this trip, train travel sounded exciting and adventurous. We both enjoy train travel and considered the landscape we would see during the hours on a train going from one city to another. It was with this in mind that we booked seats on the Overland train from Adelaide to Melbourne. Due to the extensive number of hours, the trip is over ten hours long, we opted for the Red Premium Seating, which was the most comfortable choice available on this train. The train only runs three days a week in this direction, all during the daytime. The return trip is three times a week, during the night, so sleeper coaches are available.

Our train was scheduled for 8:30, so we were up by 6:00 and took a taxi to the train station, which is outside of town. The train station is modern, sleek, and check-in is similar to an airport. You put your luggage on the conveyor belt, they weigh it, only 20 kilos allowed, they tag it, and they give boarding passes. All very professional.

The well lit, clean cafeteria was a perfect caffeine stop with a bit of brekkie as some call it here. We both made intermittent cigarette stops since we would be on a smokeless train for 10 hours. Everything and everywhere that is covered is smoke free in the state of South Australia.

When we booked this trip, this is what the brochure stated that aroused our excitement about the journey.

“This historic train pioneered inter-capital rail travel way back in 1887, its name inspired by the historic ‘Overlanders’ who travelled the route on horseback. A century on and a $4 million refurbishment later, today’s train-travelling ‘Overlanders’ will enjoy the journey in relaxing comfort arriving at their destination in the early evening. Throughout this interstate journey, guests can soak up a diverse range of landscapes from rugged mallee scrubland, to fields of golden crops, over vast open plains and through gently rolling hills. Distance: 828 kilometres.”

And this about the Red Premium service

“The "New" Overland Red Premium Service

Comfortable reclining seats offering greater personal space. 2 and 1 across aisle, 36 per carriage

67cm pitch between seats

Access to licenced Café Carriage

Meals for purchase from licenced Café Carriage alternatively limited a-la-carte in-seat dining served via trolley service

Snacks for purchase from trolley service or the Licenced Café Carriage.

Free orange juice/water offered on boarding

Free Platform magazine.

Priority luggage handling service.

Luggage allowing 50kg per person. 3 items 20/20/10kg.”

We were excited, we were charged, we were juiced up about this trip, even if it meant going without nicotine for ten hours, we could do it since the scenery would overwhelm us. This service was just reactivated in 2007 after a major refurbishing. After the first hour of “rugged mallee scrubland”, we had enough scrubland for a lifetime. The “fields of golden crops” translated into fields of dried out drought ridden areas in dire need of moisture.

This chance to see the Australian landscape was not what we had imagined. With both cities on the coast, we missed the part in the description where they say we will see magnificent ocean vistas, but we thought it was an oversight on their part in the brochure. None of this landscape has seen water for years.

Like a premium service on an airline, or what used to be premium service on an airline, each coach had two attendants to wait on us. We were given an orientation to the train, introduced to our attendants, and then served orange juice. The seats were magnanimous in size and comfort. With at 2-1 configuration, we each had the one on the right side of the train. If we were seven feet tall, we would have had enough leg room, so when we reclined our seats, we did not decrease the real estate of the person behind us in the least.

I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to catch up on writing, each seat had a hidden tray under the right hand arm rest. With the computer set up and ready to write, what I did not anticipate was the bumpy ride. The entire length of the journey was similar to being on a small aircraft that flew at low altitudes and encountered turbulence. After pounding out one paragraph, I had thirty-seven spelling mistakes due to my fingers slipping by being bounced around as I typed. Even the cursor could not maintain its position on a word, the bump and grind of the rails thrust it upward, downward, or sideways. I gave up.

Normally, I can read in many unnatural conditions: in a car, on a plane, in low light, and so on. After reading thirty pages at a time, my eyes were exhausted. I took a nap. The order of the day was read, nap, read, and nap some more. An hour into the travels, the attendants came around to take breakfast orders from the menu in our seat pockets. We refrained since we had eaten already. It didn't take much observation to notice that the passengers who were already maximizing their seat space were the ones to order breakfast served to them where they sat. Breakfast trays were no sooner cleared away when I noticed they were already spying the lunch menu in anticipation. We held back from lunch also; we packed some snacks to eat along the way.

We were due to arrive at 6:30 pm, but due to hold-ups, we did not arrive until 7:45. The Red Premium luggage service ended once our luggage was checked in. Once in Melbourne, we had to walk from the very front of the train car A to car Z to collect our luggage, fighting through the crowds of travelers and those who were there to greet them. Even then, we were held at bay until all of the luggage was displayed like tin soldiers, ours calling to us to collect them from the lot. It was a zoo.

Once in the station, we found a train employee who directed us to the Connex ticket office, the company that provides transportation in the city. We at first opted for a seven day metro ticket, which would have worked on all trams, buses, and suburban trains. The agent talked us out of it, saying that Christmas Eve and Christmas day were free travel days. Therefore, we should only buy daily tickets, but for tonight, just a single ride ticket. For $3.50 each, we had our single ride ticket and were on our way to Collingswood station where our hotel was located.

As we left the station at Collingswood, our hotel, The Laird, was within a thirty second walk. It is a gay male only hotel located above The Laird gay bar. Check-in was quick and easy and we were in our spacious room within minutes. The spacious room is all split pine walls giving it a very western feel to it. The walls throughout are decorated with framed posters of similar hotels in San Francisco, San Diego, and Berlin as well as Herb Ritt photos and Tom of Finland. There is a well appointed self-service kitchen with a espresso coffee machine, cereals, toaster, and OJ in the fridge. Next to this is a large lounge with a dining table and chairs in addition to a sofa, and arm chairs for reading or relaxing. Each room has its own television, air conditioning unit, and ceiling fan.

Being Sunday evening and late by this point, we went looking for some place for dinner. The only option was a Chinese restaurant, which as it happened was not a bad choice after such a laborious day of bump, bump, bump. It was low key and relaxed.

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Eastern European Living, Central European Living

I received this e-mail from a reader. I am posting his note and my response in case others have similar questions about living here. Reader Wrote: Hello,

I happened to randomly come across your blog while doing a google search about living in Budapest. I am looking forward to following your blog and learning more about Eastern Europe.

I hold an international chess rating and have been contemplating strapping on a backpack and competing in the various tournaments throughout Eastern Europe. I will be on somewhat of a frugal budget and was thinking that Budapest might be a good home base.

Any practical advise (web links and such) on how to live and travel frugally throughout Eastern Europe would certainly be appreciated.

Regards, Alex I wrote:

Hello Alex,

What is your country of origin? If you are American, you will only have a 90 stay within the whole of the EU on a tourist Visa. With the addition of Romania and Bulgaria into the EU, the time limits can be daunting.

Budapest is a glorious city, but the cost of living has risen considerably over the years. There has been a 12% and 13% hike in electricity and gas respectively on an annual basis for the last three years. Food prices have risen about 8% annually and housing about the same rate.

With that out of the way, there comes the question as to what your comfort needs entail? Are you willing to be a roommate? How frugal can you live? Do you cook or need to eat out for most of your meals? Although there are still some budget places to get a meal, they are all Hungarian fare and the menus will be repetitive after a week's dining. If you have a place to cook, you can troll the Great market and smaller farmer's markets for fresh fruits and veggies, but winter selections are limited. Meat and poultry are getting pricier by the day. When we arrived, 5,000 Huf would buy enough food for three days, but now it is just barely enough for one day's meals for two people. We certainly do not eat extravagantly either.

Are you thinking hostels or renting? Unless you choose a dorm room with 8 or more beds, most of the 'acceptable' hostels are rather pricey for more private accommodations. I would suggest http://www.roommates.com , www.caboodle.com or www.search4.hu ,

As close as things look on a map, Vienna and Bratislava are both 3 hours by train from Budapest. Prague is 7 1/2 hours if you get a good train. Krakow is 9 1/2 to 10 hours. Bucharest is a pleasant 14 hours journey, though Cluj, Romania is 7 hours. You can check out the times and costs at www.elvira.hu the Hungarian train site. Note the rates are listed in Euros, though Hungary does not use the Euro, so you will have to pay in Huf an the conversion when you are here. Buses may be a bit cheaper, but the journey will be longer still.

Budget airlines are falling from the sky. There used to be more than 20 budget airlines from Budapest around Europe, but the gas crisis forced many of them to cut their schedules, their airports they flew to, or go bankrupt without notice. Sterling is one example that left hundreds of passengers stranded just recently when they closed their doors without any prior warning. Those that continue to fly and seemingly prosper are:

Wizz Air

Ryan Air

EasyJet

Germanwings

AirBerlin

SkyEurope

Though some of them have very limited destinations from Budapest. Germanwings only flies from here to Cologne, Stuttgart, and Berlin as direct flights. From there you have to change to continue on elsewhere. SkyEurope only flies from here to Trieste and some other small city in Italy, but their site destination map does not even show Budapest any longer.

Good flight links are:

http://en.airtraffic.eu/

Or

http://www.airninja.com/

Air Ninja is a bit tricky, as they sometimes give routes that really do not exist, but multiple connections to get to the destination. There is the fear of missing one connection and then you have lost a ticket for the connecting flight. Budget airlines do not honor code shares or missed connections even within their own airline.

One thing to consider when flying into, out of or within the EU is that the EU has strict rules of how all airlines treat their customers regarding delays, etc. Every airline is by law required to give you a booklet of rules for the asking at check-in. This even applies to US airlines flying into the EU. The rules are written in simple English for the consumer to understand. I keep a copy in my travel on luggage for ready reference and have quoted the law for a free hotel room and meals when we have missed connections that were under the laws prescribed. Once the agent started hassling us tell us it was not their fault, I pulled out the laws and within minutes she was on the phone making us hotel reservations and giving us transportation vouchers. Meals were pre-paid at the hotel.

This will get you started. For more info, write again. For your information, I will be blogging this, so I will not need to retype it for future inquiries.

Thanks for writing,

Ryan P.S. What I forgot to include was that Hungarians HATE being classified as Eastern European. As they will all tell you, Hungary is actually the center of Europe, so they are Central Europeans.

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A Month Later, the Adventure Ends

It is just past midnight, but we are up, brushed our teeth yet again, dressed and ready to meet the taxi. As soon as the elevator doors open on the ground floor, the third desk clerk we have seen today announces our taxi is here and waiting. Once again we confirm that it is a set rate for 90 Ringgits for the ride and are assured it is settled. The driver’s command of English is as impressive as ours is of Malay, so the ride is quiet.

Being an international flight, we need to arrive two hours early to check in. The driver pulls up to the airport departure curb within forty-five minutes, giving me pause to think of the fifteen minutes I could have spent sleeping or writing or anything but sitting in an airport. The fare, we are told, is 130 Ringgits. When we dare to suggest the rate was 90 Ringgits guaranteed, the driver’s command of the English language was well enough to say there is a nighttime surcharge. We paid it and moved on, grateful for the fact we still had enough Ringgits for a coffee inside.

The airport boasts signs that it was rated the WORLD’S BEST AIRPORT FOR 2005 AND 2006. Makes you wonder what happened to them last year. It was like entering a ghost town in the Wild West, the lights were on, but no one was at home being the first impression. When we looked at the monitor, there was not check-in gate listed for our flight. However, I saw a very long line and went to investigate it and then joined the queue only then asking what the line was for. Ron had a smart mouth remark about my finding a line and having to join it needlessly. Well, it turned out that this line reaching three blocks in length was the line to check in for our flight. Good grief, we were here slightly more than two hours early. What did these people do, camp out here as if they were starting the sale of concert tickets?

I had concerns about this many people fitting on a plane regardless of the size, but then realized that every man in Arabic dress with a turban had his whole tribe here to see him off. They took so many pictures of each other, you would think it was a wedding or they were witnessing the second coming.

We stood immobile for twenty minutes. Not having binoculars, we could not see what was happening at the beginning of the line. Word finally reached us via carrier pigeon that the computer system was down and they could not process anyone, hence the wait. The computer system is down in the WORLD’S BEST AIRPORT FOR 2005 AND 2006? Now we know why they were skipped over for 2007. Now I wondered whether I should have concerns about the airport or Qatar Airlines. Placing the blame on the airport was less fearful than thinking an airline could not keep its computer system functional. Please let the control towers computer be working that is all I ask at this unreasonable hour. It took another fifteen minutes before the line started to creep along like a caterpillar on tranquillizers.

By the time we checked in, we had reached the time of boarding for our flight. The only satisfaction was that there was still a whole village of people behind us waiting to check in also, giving a one last chance for a cigarette. When we left for the gate, there was still a lengthy snake of luggage carts nose to tail with anxious travelers hoping the plane would wait for them. At the gate, we boarded the plane immediately. Having a 2-4-2 configuration, we were lucky to have the two seats on the right side of the plane. Again, each seat has its own monitor featuring over 50 international movies in English or sub-titled, 150 TV episodes, games, and so on. Miracles do happen, in spite of lines, we left the gate only five minutes late. The first leg of the journey would be seven hours and forty minutes to Doha, Qatar. The first meal was breakfast with a menu of choices. Observing the flight attendants was interesting. They rarely spoke to each other even when serving food together. Likewise, they rarely spoke to the passengers unless absolutely necessary. When they came around with the hot towels, for instance, they never asked if you would like one, they just handed it to you with their little tongs. Either you took it or you didn’t. When they collected them, they did not utter a sound, but put the container in front of you to dispose of the towel wordlessly. Is this an efficiency scheme, I wonder? Avoid unnecessary speech to get the job done?

After one movie, The Nanny Diaries, a cute flick, I was out for the count. Another interesting observation for me was that people stayed in their seats the entire flight. There was no roaming, stretching, or other activity. Perhaps it was the hour, but it was an anomaly from any other flight I have been on.

When we landed in Doha, although we were still in a secured area, we had to go through security again having ourselves as well as carry-on luggage x-rayed. Our next flight was already boarding, regardless of the fact that it was not due to leave for another forty-five minutes. When we reached the gate, we had the show our boarding tickets and passports yet again, before going through yet another security check point. Then once again, we had to show our passports and boarding tickets. Talk about compulsive behaviors. This plane had a 3-4-3 configuration, but was half empty. Still, there were three of us in our section, which sent Ron hunting for a better territory as soon as the seatbelt sign was off. This time around the flight was four hours and thirty-five minutes and shared monitors with no choice of movies. I watched the first movie, but missed the title. I will have to search for a movie with Jimmy Smits and Lyn Redgrave to see what it is. Found it, The Jane Austen Book Club. I thought I had slept after this, but when I opened my eyes again, Ratatouille was playing, so I watched this yet again. All in all, we would without hesitation fly Qatar Airlines again. Their being frequent flyer partners with United increases the appeal too. The flight landed in Vienna on time without incident.

Austrian Passport Control and Customs has to be the most relaxed in the European Union. The Passport Control officer barely looked at my passport before stamping it and telling me to have a good day. There was no one at Customs just as in the past, so we sailed through quickly and efficiently.

We bought tickets on the CAT train to the city center for nine Euros each, a hefty amount, but were in the center in sixteen minutes. From here we had to take the U3 subway seven stops to the Western train station to board our train to Budapest. We had bought round trip Budapest>Vienna>Budapest tickets, but we were uncertain about needing a seat reservation. Ron went to inquire and was assured we did not for an EC train, though an IC, we would have. After getting some snacks we boarded the train for the last leg of our journey; all was well….for the first twenty minutes and then the conductor arrived.

After taking an extraordinary long time looking over our tickets, he finally started ranting in German. When he realized he could have had a German shepherd understand more of what he was saying than we could, he switched to English. It seems our tickets expired in 2007. After having full faith in the ticket seller at Keleti train station that she understood we were returning in 2008, we never did do a double take at the tickets. Tickets to Vienna include three days of public transport in Vienna, so we erroneously believed that the three day span written on our tickets was the public transport piece, not the train ticket itself. We were faced with two options: pay for the seats or get off at the next station, still paying the full price, but having to wait four hours for the next train. With some sense of impending doom, I had held back Euros for our trip home, perhaps some intuitive thoughts prevailed. Our tickets cost us 30.80 Euros ($49.13), an outrageous amount considering a round trip ticket is only 29 Euros. Normally, I would have been irate at this unnecessary expenditure, but my philosophy this whole trip has been that we deserve it and we have the money for the first time in our advanced years, so what the hell.

Something was different on this train trip. When we had left, the Austrian and Hungarian Passport Control had made their way through and stamped our passports. Now, the Hungarian patrolled through the car, but never stopped. I had read that Hungary was joining the Schengren Treaty where the borders were coming down for EU members who qualified, but I seem to recall it was not going into effect until much later in 2008. What will these former controllers have to control in the future; will they become jobless?

As is usual, the Hungarian train conductor makes his rounds after leaving the first Hungarian stop. For some reason, they came as a gang of three. Did they get advance notice of our defunct ticket? With flourish and a quick twist of the wrist, I produced the ticket almost freshly printed by the Austrian conductor. His Hungarian counterpart looks at it and hands it to his band of not so merry men and they start squawking like chickens that sense danger in the henhouse. Then he informs us that our ticket is only to the Austrian border. What the hell, we spent 30.80 Euros just to get to the Hungarian border? Trying to explain our situation was an exercise in futility, even after showing our original ticket with only one punch mark showing we went to Vienna, but had not used it to return. A half of unused ticket was wasted because of that three day writing on it. Again, we had the same two options as before. However, this time, I did not have Hungarian forints in reserve, not thinking we would need them until arriving home again. Tickets to get us back to Budapest would be another 9,896 forints ($56.90). By some miracle, Ron happened to have a 10,000 forint bill in his wallet and we handed it over to the three musketeers. Our return trip home cost us $106.03 more than it should have when a normal round trip fare is only $42.47. Is this karmic retribution for not tipping the cab driver at the Kuala Lumpur airport?

When we arrived at the Keleti station, I wanted to kiss the ground and would have except for fear of diseases. Now I had someone buy me an annual transportation pass, but little good it was doing me now sitting at home waiting for me. I had to hunt down a transport ticket for the bus.

We were home a half an hour finally getting here at 5:30 pm local time, but five hours earlier in Kuala Lumpur and dead tired even if getting long naps during twelve hours and fifteen minutes of flying. Downloading e-mails and Microsoft updates that were missed over the last month, all of a sudden the electricity in the whole apartment goes out. Let me think, who else did we skip a tip on for this to happen. With a candle in hand, Ron climbed the ladder to check the circuit breaker. He flipped a switch, but nothing happened. I do remember paying the electric bill the day we left, so what gives. Aha, there is yet another switch next to the electric meter. I flipped it before flipping out completely and viola we were illuminated once again.

Pushing myself to stay up, I made it to 10:30 pm. Ron crashed at 8:30. Now the adventure is just a collection of memories stored for future reflections.

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Leaving Budapest

We were a fine tuned machine, all packed and ready for our 11:10 am train this morning. We ran around and did a few last minute cleaning activities for the guests who will be renting the apartment while we are gone, and out the door we lumbered with a backpack of computer equipment, one carry-on with rollers, and a nylon bag we used for our safari last year. Packing lean and light with a number of books to read and leave behind, we were efficient, though each of us sports a shoulder bag for everyday essentials like wallets, tissues, cameras, and so on.

After getting ourselves gathered into the elevator, we were ready for our first leg of the great adventure, not realizing some excitement was in front of us or rather around us. Our building elevator has not had an interior light for the last week. Why no one has come to replace it, we don’t know, but the elevator has functioned regardless. Between floors, it is horror tunnel dark and a bit creepy, but we have suffered through it for the sake of not having to trek the stairs. As we were in a descent motion, the elevator came to a sudden and boisterous halt between the fourth and third floors, blocking out any modicum of luminescence. Frantically pressing any and within seconds, all of the buttons did not prove to be of any assistance at all. We sat trapped like a corpse in a coffin, trapped in the shaft while feeling shafted over our plans thinking about our train that we most likely were going to miss. There were two thoughts that we had to be thankful for, one was that we were not catching a plane that we would surely miss and second, it was not a guest stuck in here missing a plane they were sure to miss. We leaned on the alarm bell and hoped someone would hear it and respond.

Our neighbor across from us came to check out the noise. She hates noise, which is sometimes our good fortune; any noise at all will cause her to investigate and scream if she thinks there will be any control issues. She called another neighbor and we heard them speaking, but nothing we could understand. Fifteen minutes later, the elevator carriage with us and our luggage was being hoisted by a pulley back up to the fourth floor. As grateful as we were, it would have been so much better to have been let down gently to the ground floor so we did not have to drag our luggage four flights of steps. Either way, we were free and thankful.

With as much energy as we could muster with the heavy load, we went to the bus stop and waited. Being Sunday, the buses are not a frequent, so it took minutes longer than usual. We did indeed make our train with just a few minutes to spare. I feared that this was a premonition of how the trip was going to turn out. I hope I am wrong.

We arrived in Vienna after the usual 2 ¾ hours and made our way to our hotel, Pension Wild. After dropping our things off, we intended to explore the Christmas markets; however, it was freezing cold and we were not prepared for it. We had winter coats, but our lighter versions that will not be needed in Southeastern Asia. Vienna was 12 degrees colder than Budapest according to the last forecast, so we wimped out and had pleasant thoughts of the hot climate we would be sweating in within days. We did one market that wraps around the streets, then did tram rides for the rest. Our train ticket from Budapest includes 4 days of public transport in Vienna, so why not take advantage of it for one day. We did brave the major square at St. Stephanplatz, but had to stop into Starbucks to be fortified with hot coffee first.

After dinner at our favorite restaurant, the Willendorf, we managed to get back to the hotel before icicles started hanging from our noses. The mattresses at the Pension Wild are amongst the best I have slept on away from home. I could book a night there and just sleep the entire time. The pillows are not as inviting, but they will do.

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Leaving for Home

Ron went down presumably for breakfast, before I was ready. When I went down, he was not in the breakfast room. I knew he was our wandering, so I had an enjoyable breakfast alone. When he returned and had his, we spent an hour walking the village for the last time. I swear I will not miss the cobblestones at all.

The shuttle was there promptly at 11:00 am. There were three others in in already, picked up at different hotels. We added yet another couple after us making 7 total. The single passenger in the front seat was from Iowa; the couple behind us was from Pennsylvania. They were really talkative and the wife kept the conversation going steadily when she found that we lived in Budapest. They was their stop off after Vienna. They picked our brains.

Once in Linz, we enjoyed the breads and coffees in the snack shops before boarding our train. This go around, we did not have a seat in a compartment, but regular seating. It was fine and we had all four seats 2 by 2 facing each other to ourself.

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Off to Linz, Austria

Today, we are traveling to Linz, Austria as a stop off point on route to Cesky Krumlov in the Czech Republic. We had heard so many wonderful things about this Czech town, we finally gave and decided to see for ourselves if it is as fabulous as we have been led to believe. Getting there is not easy from here, but the easiest way is to go to Linz first and then to Cesky. Many go there after having first been to Prague.

We will spend two nights in Linz, then two more in Cesky, with one final night in Linz on the way back to break up the trip and return on Halloween. As I was getting my toiletries together, I had concerns about the saline solution for my contacts thinking of restrictions of liquids, then it dawned on me, we were taking the train. No restrictions, no hassles, no bother. The station we leave from is only one metro stop from us or one stop on the express bus. Keleti station, here we come.

We had a full compartment all to ourselves. We were the only reservation until after we made it to our destination. Six seats to sprawl out on was a luxury and no budget airlines to fiddle with. There are none that go this route anyway. Tickets with reservations cost us $180. round trip. The trip was five hours going through Vienna, but with books in hand, it was not a hardship. I was reading "The Memory Keeper's Daughter", so engrossing the miles flew by with little uninterrupted naps along the way.

Linz is the capital of the Austrian federal state "Upper Austria", and located on the Danube river in the Eastern part of the province. Having a population of 190,000 people as well as the reputation for being an industrial city, in the last few years Linz has tried to rid itself of that image. The city improved its cultural and tourist attractions to add to its tourist base so more people would choose Linz as a destination for a short city trip or during their holiday time in Austria. In 2009, it will be a "European Capital of Culture" together with the Lithuanian capital Vilnius.

The Linz train station is a modern affair with lots of shops and bakeries galore. As soon as we arrived, the Tourism office is our first stop. We purchase 2 Linz cards for 20 Euros each. This turned out to be a good bet. It entitles you to:

• entrance to all 12 museums in the city
• a one day transportation pass
• 10 Euro discount at 40 different participating restaurants
• a trip on the Linz "City Express"
• a free postcard
• a free Postlingberg adventure ticket
• entrance to the zoo
• entrance to the Grotto Railroad
• free entry to the botanical gardens
• other vouchers for discounts

They are smart in not making time limited like many cities do. The discounts are all good until the end of the year. Now it was up to us to make this a value deal by getting our 20 Euros worth for each of us.

We booked the Ibis Hotel for 70 Euros a night, which was conveniently across the street from the station. After dumping our things in the room, we headed out to explore the city. Strangely though, it was only 3pm by this point, but all of the stores were closed. The signs on the doors showed they were to be open until 5 or 6pm, but yet they were shut tight and dark. When all else fails, go for a coffee. We found the 'Original' home of the Linzer torte, making an early rest stop a necessity. Not a Sacher torte by a long shot, we could not figure out why this torte ever gained in popularity. It was like eating cake sand with the jam between layers getting overruled by the rest of the confection's blandness.

The afternoon was spent walking and looking at the sights from the outside. Most of the city was dead still. In the main square, there was a demonstration, which by judging from the crowd, was mostly Islamic. We found a second tour office and discovered that today was a national holiday celebrating the day the last troops left Austria in 1955 after having been occupied since WWII.

There is no denying this is a Catholic country. Religious monuments are all over the city.

For our dining pleasure, we came across a fun pub/restaurant called Josef (www.josef.co.at). They took our voucher for 10 Euros each. We were convinced by the waiter to try the Austrian sampler platter, which was typical Upper Austrian food dishes. The pork slices were the size of my hand, the doughy balls had bacon cracklings inside them, the bread balls were not very flavorful, and I passed on the blood sausage completely. With a large beer, it was 9 Euro for both of us after our coupon.

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A Long Day in Bloom

We were all up and ready for breakfast by 8:30 am. The plan was to leave for Leiden by 9:30. We arrived at the train station at our schedule time, but with trains leaving every 15 minutes, we decided to have a coffee first. A round trip ticket to Leiden was 7 Euros each.

The train to Leiden is the same train that goes to the airport and to Den Hague. Within 35 minutes, we were in line for our combo tickets for the bus ride and entrance to Kuekenhof. Tickets were 18 Euros each. With tickets in hand, we explored this lovely and quaint city, walking the streets and looking in shops. We spotted an Oil and Vinegar store and all of us had to make a stop there. Ron and I had come across our first Oil and Vinegar store in Lisbon, Mark and Chris had their first experience with one in Chicago. It is a cooks paradise and we sampled some of their goodies.

We decided to get snacks to bring to the park and picnic there. Finding a supermarket was easy with the directions we were given from the lady at Oil and Vinegar, so we did our shopping. We found rolls and cheeses we do not normally see in Hungary giving all of us a sense of euphoria.

With our snacks in hand, we went to catch our bus for the gardens. The 54 bus was packed with standing only capacity, but we were first in line to secure seats. We arrived at the grounds by 1:30 and walked slowly enjoying the varieties of the flower beds, the magnificent and unusual colors of some flowers, and the displays of statues. After two hours, we stopped at the outdoor restaurant for beers and snacked on our picnic lunch. We had yet to go to the major exhibition hall, which I knew would completely delight all of my crew. Chris had been here 12 years prior, but the grounds had grown considerably in that time. The first hall we went into was all orchids of hundreds of varieties. They were stunningly beautiful, some magically so in their incredibly different shapes and or colors.

As we approached the main hall, we discussed how much time we would need here. The others thought thirty minutes, but I pushed for an hour and they agreed. When we walked in and they saw the enormity of the displays with the variety of flowers, they realized why I prodded for more time. We all went in different directions with a common meeting point. I was as happy as a pig in mud, snapping pictures of flowers I most likely snapped pictures of last year, but still eager for more. Then twenty-five minutes into my shutter fever, my batteries died. I had two brand new packs of Panasonic Heavy Duty batteries, so I was not distraught. When I changed the batteries in my camera and it did not work at all, I did become anxious. I then tried the second set of batteries and they did not work either. Then I became despondent. Give me a camera and keep me busy for hours. Take away my batteries and I am instantly listless. I had no other back-up batteries, having left my rechargeable ones at home, depending on two brand new packs of batteries.

By the time, we had met up again as a group, we decided that we should head back to the station. It was now 5:45 pm. However, we had only covered half of the park. There was still another section that we had not even touched. We knew if we waited longer, the park closing at 7:30 pm, we would have to scramble for the bus back to the station.

Back in Amsterdam, we agreed to a long rest and to meet at 9:30 pm for a late dinner. We walked to the Hard Rock cafe to show Mark. He had never been to one, but does enjoy music. It was fun to share this experience with him. We then found a restaurant with an all-you-can-eat rib special and went there for dinner. Ron and I had the ribs and they were great. Having a beer in the gay bar on our street was the evening closer, so we went to the Spyker. It was more crowded than I remember it being for a long time, making it hot and stuffy with our coats on.

We headed to our hotel within the same block and agreed to a lazier wake-up and tour day tomorrow.

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Christmas in Vienna

Ron and I took one of my students, Balazs, to Vienna for the day. He is my unofficial Teaching Assistant and is continually looking for work from us to keep him busy. He is over here whenever we need something translated. Many times, he will stop by just to be social. It amazes me how many hours he can spend with me a day and then later call and see if I want to go for a coffee with him. He is the most determined student I have ever met, who wants to perfect his English. He even makes his roommate speak to him only in English, though his roommate is Hungarian. He really is a delight to be around. We both enjoy him immensely.

Sunday morning, the three of us met with Lynn the Fulbrighter and off we went to Keleti train station for our great adventure to Vienna. Our train was at 9:10 and we found our reserved seats in a smoking compartment since all of us smoke. Ron, Lynn, and Balazs played Scrabble on the way and I read my book. Neither of them had been to Vienna before and we have been there dozens of times, so it was exciting to see it through their eyes. Our mission was to see the Christmas markets and decorations more than the sights.

We arrived a little past noon, the sun was shining brightly, and the sky was clear. We found the first street market within minutes of our arrival. We putzed and puttered at the booths and then decided to stop at a restaurant for lunch. We knew that hot wine was waiting for us back outside, so we just had a snack rather than a meal.

When we bought our wine, the man let us skip paying the 2 Euro deposit on the mugs since I told him we promised to return them. Across from where we were standing, there was a clown making balloon animals. Balazs and Lynn were joking about wanting one and after fifteen minutes, the clown came over to Lynn. He started hitting on her and told her that he does not meet to many women his size or shorter. He made her a dog balloon in pink.

We took them to two of the palaces on the outside. There were Christmas fairs at both. Our public transport was included in

our train ticket fee, so we covered lots of territory walking or by taking trams. By the time we needed to head back to the last train at 8:00 pm, we were tired, but feeling fulfilled. It was an excellent day filled with laughs and merriment with good people. Who could ask for more at the holidays?

These are Ron's pictures.

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