Budapest Day One
My dad and I arrived in Budapest around noon on Friday. It was a warm sunny day. We were able to change some money at the airport, at a not very advantageous rate, and buy our 3 day “Budapest” cards that allow unlimited travel on the public transit grid in Budapest without problem. After a little confusion of where to go we caught a bus that took us to the nearest metro stop. The countryside was green and lush, and looked surprisingly like the countryside in North Carolina. The train was a large soviet era affair that didn’t even really have ticket takers, just a few transit employees eying the entering crowd for those who looked like freeloders. (Apparently I looked like one as I was stopped and had to show off my new Budacard before being allowed to proceed.) We got on the train and the doors eventually clanged shut with little warning and we were suddenly off.
After a quick train ride through the countryside & underground, we arrived at our stop, and emerged into downtown Budapest. The city was pretty quiet, although perhaps a lot of that was due to the May Day celebrations that were going on. My dad and I wandered down a few wrong streets, but enjoyed soaking in the sounds and smells as we hunted for our hotel. We past a band doing a sound check on a stage, a few arabic fast food places, and eventually found one of the main tourist drags in Pest which led towards our hotel. The Marriot where we were staying turned out to be in a great location, right on the river and near most of the tourist attractions in downtown Pest, and near the Elizabeth bridge which connects the base of Buda Castle hill to Pest. We checked in and were ushered to a room on the fourth floor with a great view up and across the river to the North. (We had a great view of Buda Castle & the Elizabeth bridge!)
After a little rest at the hotel, dad and I threw oursevles back into Pest, walking past the Paris Arcade, the Central Market, and tens of stalls selling “traditional” Hungarian tourist swag. People were out in force, but it was tough to tell what the breakdown between locals and tourists was. After a decent tour of the area, dad and I stopped for a beer (which turned out to be the best beer I had in Budapest) and watched the world go by. There was a free wi-fi signal there so I took the chance to fire off a few quick emails and check on the world.
After our beer, we wandered around a little more hunting for a place for dinner. Finding nothing too exciting we settled on one of the many places claiming to sell “traditional Hungarian food” with the rather ironic name of the “Havana Cafe.” Dad ordered Pork medalians with potatoe pancakes (latka like) and a kind of ratatouile pasta. I had spicy beefy stew on a bed of a dense pasta. Not bad, but not great, which is how I’d describe most of the food in Budapest. (Vegetables are hard to come by in quantity in any meal, and fresh fruit is available mostly from small bodega type groceries but not with yoru meal.)
After dinner Dad and I went for a brief stroll seeing the sites by the river. We were pretty jet lagged and worn out though, and our walk soon led us back to the Marriot. By about 8pm we were ensconced in our room watching various strange hungarian programs on tv. The Marriot beds were wonderfully comfy and the over all experience was quite luxurious and we were happy enough to turn in after a successful first day in Hungary.
I’m having a bit of an issue finding decent internet connections here, so pictures will hopefully soon follow!
On my way!
I am typing this from my seat on my klm flight to amsterdam, final stop Budapest! The flight is very full but a nice klm lady at the gate swapped me into an asile seat for the flight. Security at Dulles was, as usual, a mess but I finally got through it. Looking forward to meeting up with my dad in eight hours in Amsterdam. Ok more later, but the adventure begins. May the wind be at my back and the sails full.
My first phone post
So I am leaving for eastern Europe tomorrow and figured that I should figure out how to post pictures with my phone… This is my first try. 
Meanwhile… Get your Freedom on!
Will You Ever?
“Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.”
– Erica Jong, Poet & Feminist
rise up against me
like the sea of troubles
Shakespeare mixed
with metaphors;
like Vikings in their boats
singing Wagner,
like witches
burning at
the stake–
I submit
to my fate.
I know beginnings
their sweetnesses,
and endings,
their bitternesses–
but I do not know
continuance–
I do not know
the sweet demi-boredom
of life as it lingers,
of man and wife
regarding each other
across a table of shared witnesses,
of the hand-in-hand dreams
of those who have slept
a half-century together
in a bed so used and familiar
it is rutted
with love.
I would know that
before this life closes,
a soulmate to share my roses–
I would make a spell
with long grey beard hairs
and powdered rosemary and rue,
with the jacket of a tux
for a tall man
with broad shoulders,
who loves to dance;
with one blue contact lens
for his bluest eyes;
with honey in a jar
for his love of me;
with salt in a dish
for his love of sex and skin;
with crused rose petals
for our bed;
with tubes of cerulean blue
and vermilion and rose madder
for his artist’s-eye;
with a dented Land-Rover fender
for his love of travel;
with a poem by Blake
for his love of innocence
revealed by experience;
with soft rain
and a bare head;
with hand-in-hand dreams on Mondays
and the land of fuck
on Sundays;
with mangoes, papayas
and limes,
and a house towering
above the sea.
Muse, I surrender
to thee.
Thy will be done,
not mine.
If this love spell
pleases you,
send me this lover,
this husband,
this dancing partner
for my empty bed
and let him fill me
from now
until I die.
I offer my bones,
my poems,
my luck with roses,
and the secret garden
I have found
walled in my center,
and the sunflower
who raises her head
despite her heavy seeds.
I am ready now, Muse,
to serve you faithfully
even with
a graceful dancing partner–
for I have learned
to stand alone.
Give me your blessing.
Let the next
epithalamion I write
be my own.
And let it last
more than the years
of my life–
and without the least
strain–
two lovers bareheaded
in a summer rain.
