Untitled

Untitled, a photo by Jack Simon on Flickr.

Budapest

Budapest
Originally uploaded by matthewshore

I have started a blog, about 5 years after everyone else, so that everyone in the world has the opportunity to be kept updated about me. I guess i didn't think it would catch on. Anyway, as a starter, I have posted the updates I sent while Sarah and I traveled to Budapest. I hope you find them entertaining. I'll more often post a picture from my flickr to accompany an entry.

We've been here in Budapest for four months now, and things are going well. Riots, cammels, tram lines, Nicholas Cage and hospitals have all been encountered. The language is a bit tricky, but I'm slowly getting there. One thing is annoying me though...the castle. every time someone comes to visit, we have to take them up that poxy hill, and pay £3 for a beer when we get to the top, when it's 78p elsewhere.

Trip over

Warsaw station: tinsel and tramps

We have now arrived safe and sound in Budapest, and are ensconced in our new amazing flat. The only way we could be living in more opulence is if we had our own servant, who used fresh swans wings instead of jay cloths, and our curtains were hand sewn from the fur of rare dormice. Sorry to sound smug, but I am. It is that posh.

So, I think that a better way to tell you all about our trip is to do a kid of faux awards ceremony, featuring the best and worst of Northern Europe, so here it is:

*Oddest smell*: Warsaw station. Difficult to describe, but sort of like the smell you get after someone is car sick, and it's then cleaned up with Dettol. Might have something to do with the tramps. Or the despair.

*Best toilets*: Berlin, by a country mile. Don't go to your grave without making use of the facilities next to the Europa Centre.

*Best hotel*: Brussels. It makes me a little wistful and sad to think that the Sheraton Four Points may have been the zenith of my life's hotel experiences, and I didn't really appreciate it at the time. If only I hadn't taken it for granted.

*Worst hotel*: Tempting to say the dorm room we had in Amsterdam. Actually they were the worst, but it wasn't really that bad, except for the fact that you were forced to listen to Sandstorm by Darude, and other europop of the 90s, at ear splitting levels if you wanted to go to the bar.

*Worst nights sleep*: the night train to Warsaw. It was like trying to sleep in one of those flight simulators they sometimes have in shopping centres. It was made worse by knowing that we had to get off the train at 550 am.

*Most aggressive person[s]*: Obviously not the men in Brussels who tried to rob us, because they ran away after a girl [Sarah] told them to f*ck off. I think the award has to go to the elderly Jewish lavatory attendant in Amsterdam station, who, in the manner of an old woman chastising and impudent grandchild, and in front of the rest of the queuing patrons, demanded to know which function I was about to perform ['you pee pee?!!??!!!, PEE PEE!!??']

*Nicest person[s]*: There were so many. The helpful Flemish lady in Ypres who told us [in a comedy Dutch accent] about all the attractions in her fair town or the Polish couple in Warsaw station who saw that we were confused by the platform numbering, and went to the information desk to ask for us. I have a soft spot for the receptionist in our hotel in Brussels, who was not only very helpful, but also looked like a white, French, version of Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

*Nicest touch*: Warsaw station. For some reason, there was tinsel around the huge train timetable board in the main hall. Although t didn't improve the general crapness of the place, it was kind of sweet that someone had tried.

*Nicest afternoon*: Biking around Amsterdam, trying to remember that they drive on the other side of the road, but generally having a lovely time.

*The biggest bastard award*: The Warsaw 'Taxi driver' who charged what turned out to be £30 for a five minute journey. Hopefully he died in a fire shortly afterwards.

*Most esoteric Frenchman*: The guy in our cabin en route to Warsaw, whose mere presence on the train immediately made me feel ugly, uninteresting and inadequate.

*Special mentions*: The market stall owner in Amsterdam, who made everything on his stall €20, despite most of it looking like it had been recovered from a hoover bag; the drunk man in Budapest station laughing at an old woman who had just fallen down the stairs, and was being tended to by paramedics [I later saw him attempting to lie at the feet of a bemused backpacker, like a faithful old dog]; the combined fish tank and mouse enclosure we saw in a gallery in Berlin [part of the mouse run was submerged beneath in the fish tank. Way cool] and having time to listen to whole albums on my iPod.

Warsaw

Warsaw: full of wee

We then took the night train and arrived, at 6 am, in Warsaw. My initial impression was that Warsaw was odd, and full of tramps, enthusiastically weeing and shouting, and two days there didn't do much to dispel this. It is also became clear to see where all the prostitutes in Amsterdam come from. Most of the city is seedy old soviet buildings mixed with the odd brand new highrise office or hotel. None of the careful planning that Berlin seems to have enjoyed was apparent. There is an 'old town' there, but it was actually rebuilt after the war, so it kind of has the look and feel of a film set. I half expected to open a door and find that its all plaster, and held up with wooden joists. As far as I could tell, nobody seemed to live there either.

Berlin

Berlin: Lovely

We left Amsterdam a bit earlier than planned, and went to Berlin, which was ace. Berlin impressed me as much as it did the last time round. It seems that a lot of though has gone into making it a proper functioning city again – a real air of re-renaissance, if that makes sense. The path of the wall is laid out in cobble stones set into the pavement, but buildings have simply been build over the top, which I like. Acknowledging the past and having a reverence for it isn't the same as allowing it to, in this case literally, provide a barrier to future progress. I also noticed that they were simply building an office block where Hitler's bunker was, which is probably the best thing for it really. Then after pondering all of this, We went to the zoo and watched monkeys flinging their faeces around. Top notch.

August 4 – Brussels and Amsterdam

Brussels: Narrow

So, I'm in Amsterdam at the moment, sitting in the hostel bar, sipping a Heineken with my laptop - very civilised. we hired bikes today, and cycled about, which was nice. Not really much else going on here. It all smells vaguely of a university halls of residence, and why, if prostitution is one of the city's marquee attractions, do they all look like Roweena from the X Factor's mum? I think I may be too old for Amsterdam.

Brussels was quite nice, pretty in places, a bit grotty round the edges, but more interesting for it I think. There was a funfare near the station, which boasted a ride called 'Polyp'. It is also home to some of the worlds most dangerous taxi drivers. Its quite a thrill to arrive in the heart of Europe by rail at 186 mph, but it's even more exhilarating being driven to your hotel at that same speed. Lots of lovely places to eat, and some spectacular architecture, new and old, but unfortunately my last memory of Brussels will be walking to the station, down the Belgian equivalent of the Old Kent road, where someone tried to rob us. Sarah told them to f**k off, and they did.

We've got another 3/4 of a day here in Amsterdam, and then its on to Berlin, where we are staying in a hotel. hurrah.

Photos

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