Hungarian Police...they will steal your child and robberate your house

So I've been spending the last few days of my life in Budapest, Hungary with Andy, and needless to say, it's been rather awesome.

for those who don't know, Hungary looks like this:

Budapest is that larger dot in the middle. I'd show you what the city looks like, but I haven't uploaded any pictures yet.


Even though I've only been here two days, I've seen/done quite a few things that I would never have expected. The first day, we got lost and saw some medieval sword fighting school, where I took a picture of a dude in armor through a window. Yesterday was especially exceptional, after climbing the hill on the Buda (west of the Danube) side of Budapest (yes, there's a Pest too, it's on the east side of the Danube. So Buda+Pest=Budapest, clever, huh?) and taking some pictures of the wonderful view from above, Andy and I decided to walk about town and to take a tram. Once on the tram, we encountered a quite...well, crazy woman who decided to take this time on the tram to complain about the evils of the Hungarian police.......in very Hungarian sounding English. Quotes include: "I never elect, because they need to be changed," "If there is a crime....Hungarian Police," "You'll get a stroke from Hungarian Police," and the title of this post is also one of her claims. As people got on at each stop, more and more people were weirded out my this lady's antics. Did I mention she was old?

Then, last night Andy and I decided to travel to Margaret Island, a small island in the middle of the river towards the north of the city. I thought that Andy getting hit on by hookers in Prague was just a coincidence, but now I am fully convinced that he is what I refer to as a "hooker magnet". We were asked no fewer than 8 times whether we wanted to participate in some gross looking woman's "Sexy Program." We were also approached by a man asking if we wanted to meet "The Fuck Master," referring to the Master's talents as "precision FUCKing technology" (emphasis on the "fuck" syllable). That had me laughing for about ten minutes.

Eventually we got to the island, and decided to participate in the festivities, which were essentially open air bars/dance clubs, and it was truly a neat experience. We apparently happened to come on "Remember those 90s songs?" night because in a row, they played "Ice Ice Baby", "U Can't Touch This", "Pump Up The Jam", and "Everybody Dance Now". So we drank some beer, ate some sausage with bread and mustard, which was quite delicious, and drank some semi-sweet white wine because Andy is a girl. We danced like idiots for a while, and then decided to head down to the river's edge to slowly make our way back to the hostel. We sat for a little while, and then we were suddenly joined by a group of boys who were toying with the idea of going swimming. Eventually about four of them stripped down to their underwear, jumped in the water, and immediately bitched about how cold it was. We laughed at them for a while, but then decided we should move on, but we wanted to walk around the southern tip of the island. There, we saw a cat, and decided we wanted to follow it a little bit, essentially because we're a little gay and like to pet animals. We couldn't catch the cat, but we did see it leap over a fence to a very quiet looking area, so we decided that we should do as Hungarian cats do, and also climb the fence, Andy got his belt loop caught on a spike, and I poked my but with one, and it was funny.

Once inside, we looked around and to our surprise, right there was a small pool. We looked at each other, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Then I stuck my hand in the water, came to a wonderful realization, looked at Andy and said, "Dude, it's warm." Yes, we had successfully broken into a small bar with a hot tub completely concealed from any people who may have been looking to keep such people like us out. So we stripped down, and had a wonderful time in our own personal Hungarian hot tub. The only downside was that they had turned off the beer taps for the night.

After our swim, we decided it was time for us to return home at the lovely hour of 5AM to sleep until noon, and prepare for the following day.

No, I'm not going to kill myself. sorry if it's bad.

In this room I've made my home
all white and lifeless, chills and spite
It's all I have, a roof above my head.
Here I'll stay writing from my hospital bed

And as I sleep, I'll curl the sheets
around my neck and make it like an accident
They'll say "sorry he had to go"
That it was suicide they will never know

When I reach my destination
Shaking hands just like the prom
Hopefully they'll have a place
Where I can be alone

And in this room I've made my home
So white with brightness, thrills, delight
It's all I have, a place to be myself
And I'll never know whether it's heaven or hell.

To Prague and back.

Sunday morning looking through the half opened blinds of my window that looks out to the many other faceless buildings that populate the student community here. So this isn't what it's supposed to be like, Europe's supposed to be filled with endless wonder, and instead I find myself living in what resembles a housing project from the eastern block; boring, drab, and depressing, but painted with bright colors to hopefully disguise it's utter lack of personality. My room is white, like the inside of an institution: sterile.

Tuebingen itself is a beauty of a town, wonderful weather, friendly people, a charming town center filled with winding ancient alleys, smiling shopkeepers, and cafes. Wednesday morning farmer's market outside the town hall, bustling and picturesque. People ride boats up and down the river every Sunday. Why Sundays? because everything except the restaurants and cafes is closed, you can't even buy groceries....just church and relaxation. And the ice cream, people are always eating ice cream on Sundays, and walking up and down the Neckerinsel, walking their dogs, or spending time with their kids or just enjoying the day because it's there.

I could spend a decent amount of time here, but I doubt I could ever spend my entire life here, there's something about this town that is too perfect, no arguments, little crime, no fear. Everyone seems to be happy in Tuebingen. Maybe it's the water.

So after three weeks of Language class, Doeners, and city tours, I decided it was about time I went somewhere else. Prague.

For the longest time, I have never found a place on this earth where I felt I could spend the rest of my life. Growing up in the suburbs and seeing how people there treated life bothered me, and I needed to find a place where a neat little domestic life wasn't the preferred method of existence.

Upon entering Prague for the first time, after having spent the entire night in a bus trying to catch some sleep, I was instantly entranced. There is something about that city that glows perpetually, a unique beauty intertwined with a heaping spoonful of darkness, something mildly evil. This city felt real, people lived here and died here and suffered here and defined themselves here. There was enough character in this city for everyone.

Hostel Elf was also a joy, bright and vibrant graffiti decorated the entire exterior, the staff was friendly and rather open minded, and the beds were more comfortable than the bed I have in Germany. It was nestled beside train tracks, and a train would pass us by every five minutes. Those who were sitting outside stopped their conversations while the train passed, everyone looked at each other, unwilling to strain his voice above the noise of the passing train. It was as if the train sought to regulate our thoughts. Most of the people there were open, and we'd share our experiences and stereotypes over real Budweiser beer (American Budweiser is called B here). Canadians, Finnish, Norwegian, Belgian, American, French, Brazilian, Bolivian, and countless other nationalities would sit out on the front porch and talk late into the night, stopping only when the trains would pass.

I would spend my days walking all over the city, trying to exercise my little bit of Czech on the most unsuspecting people. I went to the castle twice, perhaps the most beautiful in the world, because I felt like it, toured the torture museum, and went to a black light theater production of Faust. What surprised me is that the entire cast talked to each other during the entire production, barely audible over the music that blared, caught only by those like me who insisted on sitting in the first row. I wondered what it's like to be an actor in Prague, and how far up the achievement ladder the black light theater actually is. One thing is for sure, the female lead was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.

The turkey flavored chips were also pretty awesome.

Kutna Hora was also a treat. Small shops, beautiful churches, including one decorated entirely with human bones. No pictures allowed, but just google it.

Having Andy there was also a plus, there's nothing like being able to share a beautiful city with a close friend.

I also find it oddly fitting that Kurt Vonnegut Jr., my most favorite author, died while I was in Prague.

Being back here in Tuebingen only increases my Wanderlust. I want to get away from here again, because I don't want the lightness.