Or, well, Budapest. Since that's the only place I went in Hungary. I had plans to go some other places, but I decided that I should be in a hurry to get to the frozen wasteland of Ukraine. I was looking forward to drinking the Hungarian wine and generally being Magyar and merry. But, alas, my desire to lose a few toes and fingers outweighed my desire to get crunked, especially after months of travelling. Budapest was the latest in a string of tourists hotspots that we entirely passed up or had short stays in. Fuck, I spent more time in Minsk than I did in Budapest. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, all y'all AMERICAN POSERS who think you're adventurous because you've gone to Prague. Go back to your sorority house.
Thus, I was greeted by the Budapest welcoming committee, based in an Internet cafe:
It's a good thing I have no children! I hear they go for quite a pretty penny, especially if they are 12 year old girls and you can traffic them to that brothel that was busted in North Plainfield. True story. New Jersey!
The train from Ljubljana to Budapest was a fucker. It was almost entirely empty. I had an entire train car to myself for half of the trip. Unfortunately, it was seats, not compartments, so it wasn't possible to lay down. And a sleeper berth costs something approaching a mortgage downpayment. The seats made it hard to sleep, but even worse than that was the broken heat in the car. It was well over 100 Fahrenheit in the car. The conductor kept turning the heat down, but it didn't do anything. And the windows were all sealed shut. Other passengers got on the train, and they started complaining too. We were all sweating balls. And Europeans don't sweat much. Finally the conductor came with some tools and opened the windows. Then I passed out. Sweet frozen breeze.
Budapest! Actually, just Pest. Budapest is a two in one dealie. Like a twin city, except that it's one city with a river in the middle. Mr. Pretentious wants to remind you that, "Pest," is pronounced, "Pesht." That's because 's' in Hungarian is pronounced like 'sh' and 'sz' is pronounced like 's'. I think that sit is sztupid. Right. Pest:
It's the old synagogue.
There's a Jewish Museum inside. Let's go:
HAHAHAHAHAHA! It's another closed Jewish Museum. Completing our destiny--every Jewish Museum we tried to go to was closed or cost 100 billion dollars to get in (Prague).
Budapest is architecturally fucking amazing. It's certainly not as clean as Prague, and the lack of shine makes it maybe a bit less impressive. Nevertheless, the building themselves win hands down. In the center, almost every block has an architectural gem. I have no idea what these buildings are:
This building, however, is famous. It's the Opera House, and it's a big fucking deal:
The interior is what really sells it:
Sorry for the poor quality. There was a no photographs sign, but I just had to. American imperialism!
Commie shit! I think.
There are two good things about being cooperatively controlled by Austria. One, architecture, we already covered. The other is HOLY SHIT DELICIOUS CAKES AND PASTRIES:
I need a second to clean up the mess in my pants.
The above delicious things were introduced to me by Hajni, who I found on Couchsurfing. She wasn't cool enough to host me (reality: she shared a tiny studio apartment with her Dad), but she is cool enough to spit in the face of the European value system by talking on her phone instead of texting like a decent continental:
I think I promised to delete that photo. Oops!
The next day, I decided to conquer the other head of the municipal hydra. Smoke this Buda! (I'm funny!)
And scope the castle. Viva tourism!
The castle complex is full of pretty buildings and stuff.
And pretty views.
This here is a citadel that the Austrians built to keep an eye on the shifty Magyars. I refused to go, because I'm protesting Austria for being fascists.
The castle also has tourist traps.
This guy was charging people 1 Euro to hold the falcon. So I decided to tightly clench my asshole and finally become a man:
Then there's the Danube, which separates Buda and Pest. It has bridges, because Europe has modern technology
The famous Chain Bridge:
There was one more tourist sight in Budapest I had to scope out-Szobor Park. It's a statue park, full of some of the old commie statues that used to decorate Budapest. I had heard it was a can't miss, and it was certainly OK. It was also quite a journey from the center. Metro, to Tram, to a suburban bus. To an area where they put things like this:
IT'S THE HUNGARIAN SPACE PROGRAM HA HA.
Anyway, compared to Gruto Parkas in Lithuania, this Statue Park is a playground. I'm fucking jaded. Nevertheless, commie shit makes for good pics:
Marx. Hot Karl!
I fucking love this mural. I want to steal it and put it in the Village Shopping Center.
Celebrating the Young Pioneers:
More d00dz OMFG:
Huh huh. Cupping. Balls.
DEFILED! I'm finally getting a piece:
Some limeys got in the way:
I CAN'T HEAR YOU, LENIN IS TALKING
This was an attempt to imitate the statue, support provided by Maya, a hot Bulgarian American who was in Budapest on an exchange program. WISH YOU WERE HERE (sitting on my lap)
And a Trabant:
The sun sets on Communism:
And then it was time to eat. Hajni took me to a student cafeteria like place, where I experienced Tomato Soup and some stewey Goulash thang:
And later on, this delicious bro:
That's cashew butter covered in cream. I have to wait for my erection to subside. Again.
Speaking of Erections, this is my CS host, Daniel. He spilt something on himself:
Daniel is awesome. We talked about indie rock, pegs, blowing each other, and video games. He took me to a club and we didn't have to pay cover because he was a former employee. It was quite an awesome time, and quite a nice place. I'd plug it if I remembered, but I don't very well.
I remember drinking a lot and then eating some sausage before going to bed. NOT MAN SAUSAGE, YOU PERVERTS. Real sausage, full of pork and saturated fat.
Here's the hangover:
God, I wish I could put that on my driver's license.