Nearing the final third of a three-week work trip to London, a colleague and I “called an audible” last week and decided to take our antics abroad. With flying home to the States for the weekend a costly and time consuming option, and Heathrow Airport steps away, I began scouring the internet for cheap flights to destinations as yet unvisited. With a little searching, Budapest, Hungary and Istanbul, Turkey ended up as the final two contenders.
Istanbul required a longer flight and a trip to one of London’s “lesser” airports, adding another hour to each leg of the trip, so the availability of a direct flight from Heathrow sealed the deal in favor of Budapest. I excitedly clicked the “book now” button on Expedia, only to be informed that they could not issue a paper ticket for the flight on Malev, Hungary’s national airline, within 48 hours of the flight. No problem I thought, and took a quick trip to Malev’s website to purchase an electronic ticket. After several attempts, it was determined that the only way to get an electronic ticket was via the decidedly un-electronic telephone.
A pleasant woman who spoke excellent English in Malev’s Budapest office suggested I call the London office, where the phone was answered by a rude woman whose English was only slightly better than my Hungarian. Some misunderstandings and price increases out of the way, my buddy Mark and I were ticketed and ready to go.
The exchange rate with the Hungarian Florin is currently around 20 HUF for one cent. I knew I wanted around $100US to finance the weekend’s adventures, and at the ATM some flight-induced mental haze, combined with a growing line behind me caused a minor mathematical slipup. I added an extra zero to my mental math, assuming 200,000 HUF would be around $100 US. There was no option for 200,000 on the ATM, so I pulled 150 grand, the nearest choice. I was amazed at the low costs of everything for about an hour before remembering that forgotten zero, and immediately went to the hotel safe to lock up my excess 20,000 notes and my new status as a “Hungarian Millionaire” became a recurring joke.
Budapest proved to be a good choice for a weekend adventure. The weather was nearly perfect the entire weekend, and the banks of the Danube were flanked by wide walkways, complete with many outdoors cafes that provided an excellent spot for a pint of local beer. After checking in, Mark and I found the nearest café, and learned our first and only Hungarian “conversation:”
“Two beers please.”
“Thank you.”
Mark being a swinging single, it was determined that we should spend the evening in search of some Hungarian ladies. We asked the concierge where to find some good bars and clubs, and she recommended “Mammut Center.” Tourist map in hand with scribbled directions, we boarded the Soviet-era subway and arrived at the appointed stop.
After walking around aimlessly for a bit, we found what appeared to be Mammut Center, which turned out to be a large shopping mall. Looks of confusion on our faces, we entered finding much commerce but little “par-tee” as the concierge had insisted. Beaten but not broken, we found a nearby restaurant for some goulash and strategizing. We returned to the Mammut Center but entered via a different door and were rewarded with the sound of distant techno music. Like moths to a bright light, we rode many flights of escalators and braved what seemed like miles of shops to arrive at “Cuba Libre,” a New York-esque club/lounge with trendy bar, thudding techno and asinine prices.
Mark silenced my objections to the former with a few Cuba Libres, and as the place crowded up, he went to work. Between the blaring techno and lack of English/Hungarian fluency on the part of either party, little was accomplished other than diminishing our once grandiose Hungarian bankroll.
The next day, we were up relatively early to explore the sights of the city. The recently restored St. Stephen’s Basilica was the highlight of the day, with a beautiful gilded and marbled interior, and the “holy right hand,” the actual right hand of someone that died around 1038 preserved in a little glass tube and decorated “hand house.” Mark even convinced me to work off some of the previous night’s libations with a walk up to the dome of the basilica, where we were rewarded with some spectacular views of the city.
Fearing a repeat of the great Mammut disaster of ought-six, and a with a Monday morning departure looming on the horizon, we enjoyed some dinner and called it an early night. Heathrow threw a few delays our way, and we arrived at work a bit later than expected to the usual mass of unread email and unresolved problems.
Budapest is definitely a city worth a visit, and one that I think will be added to our worldwide motorcycle tour. Mark was a good traveling companion, although I did miss the better half of PatandMeg! We missed a few of the highpoints on this trip: the interior of Parliament is supposed to be extremely impressive, as are the Turkish baths. But of course, we did hit the crown jewel of the city, as no visit to Budapest would be complete without a visit to the world-renowned Mammut Center!