Some Final Thoughts: Awesome

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

I travelled for a total of 39 days. I saw eleven different countries. I sat still on planes, trains, vans, cars, ferries, and buses in transit for over four days (113 hours). I lost 17 pounds. I spent $2,249 on the entire trip (transportation, food, lodging, Imodium AD, etc.). There have been 3,902 hits on the blog and a total of 28 entries.

28 entries! Surely that should be enough to have covered this little trip. And yet I feel that I have utterly failed at truly portraying the awesomeness of this experience.

Simply put, the trip was just that: awesome. And I don't mean "awesome" in the 8th grade sense of the word. It's not a "Hey, that looks cool...awesome!"-type of thing. Admittedly, it's not much more complex than that. Still in all, it's so much more.

Awesome is waking up (rather late) in the morning and not knowing which country you'll be in at the end of the day. Your only responsibility: figuring out how you're going to get there.

It's sitting on the side of a railroad track in Macedonia with one of your best friends in the world and having a conversation about Seinfeld's favorite pasttime ("nothing"), and then realizing that you'll probably never be at that spot on Earth ever again.

It's sharing a cup of coffee with a friend surrounded by a charming city atmosphere, and recollecting all the other awesome shared cups of coffee that you've had throughout the world.

Awesome is staying up until 6 a.m. just so you can share a few laughs with buddies living on Eastern Standard Time.

It's starting a meal in a random country without any prior knowledge of what you're about to experience, and then stuffing your face with food that's so good that you could cry.

It's starting a meal in a random country without any prior knowledge of what you're about to experience, and then eating trail mix for dinner because the food is so bad that you could cry.

It's stomping out anti-American sentiment with a warm smile over a cup of tea.

It's realizing in the middle of a meal that you'll remember that particular dining experience for the rest of your life.

It's being lost and almost missing a train, and feeling like you flat out need a hug from Mom. Then you miraculously make the train in time and it's Christmas morning 1987 and you just got your first Nintendo.

Awesome is paying to use the toilet and then being handed two small squares of TP.

It's losing 10 lbs because "free breakfast" at a hostel for six weeks straight means lots of bread and jam (and liverwurst if you're Damon).

It's losing 7 more lbs because the food in Turkey isn't as appetizing after a few days of visiting.

It's collecting stamps in your passport.

It's being able to communicate with someone even though you don't speak the same language.

Awesome: growing a moustache -- because you can.

It's getting a personal email from a friend or family member located thousands of miles away saying that he/she misses you, or he/she loves you, or that he/she simply enjoys reading the blog.

It's preparing for an overseas move from overseas. (I move to England on Saturday.)

It's boarding a nasty dirty train for the first time and being grossed out. Then it's boarding an even dirtier train a few weeks later and thinking nothing of it as you fall asleep to the voices in Serbian.

It's seeing capitalism try to muster up the strength to overtake the old communist ways, and marvelling that the "mustered up strength" isn't enough for a few restaurants to be in business yet.

It's getting away from the West for a while and not seeing any Americans for a few days.

It's learning how to say "thank you" in yet another language, and then realizing why you do it when the waitress grins at you when you leave.

What's really awesome is the smiles that you see in lesser developed countries. Smiles (and happiness) seem to come so easy there.

It's taking 242 pictures of the most amazing sights, but realizing that those aren't the most precious things to be taken from the trip.

For the rest of my life, I will remember my summer trip to Eastern Europe. When people ask about it, I'll always tell them that it was awesome.

Now you'll know why.

Reflections on the Turkish Sell

Istanbul, Turkey

-Written by Sarah in Copenhagen, Denmark

Since my family is in the retail industry, I have always been exposed to the art of selling. Everyone has their own definition of 'customer service' and everyone has their own style or flair. The luxury goods industry is very tricky.

That said, I have never ever ever ever experienced anything like theTurkish approach. When Andy and I were in Turkey there was never a day when we walked down the street without someone offering to show us a carpet. We got used to this pretty quickly; we actually came to expect it. Right away we learned not to think of it as annoying (although it was) but as creative and amusing. I can't begin to understand the energy it must take to try and sell carpets in Istanbul. To be successful, you have to be charming. You should also be funny and if you occassionally know what you are talking about when it comes to your product, that doesn't hurt either. I think that Andy would agree when I say that the single best line was, "Sir, a carpet for her dowry?!?" We both stopped, turned, laughed and commended him for his efforts.

But it takes more than just one-liners to win us over. On our first night in Turkey we met Joseph (though we didn't know his name then). We went to buy water and as we passed his brother's store he asked if we wanted to be his last customers of the night. We said, "No, thanks." When he asked if we wanted to be his first customers the next day, Andy said that we would be by at 6am. Joseph was surprised and without missing a beat said, "Sir, no I am sorry. I will be looking at my dreams at that time." The next night we walked by again. Andy yelled to him, "Wherewere you at 6am?" The friendship was born. We walked by Joseph every night and on our last night (even when we weren't feeling our best) we sat with him on his camel bag (carpeted double pillow) and drank cherry tea. We were his guests. We talked about how he was on holiday from school (he's 18) and how he lives in Van... eastern Turkey near the Iraqi and Perisan borders... and about his religious beliefs and the political situation between the Turkish and Kurdish people. The conversation was very interesting and in the end, it worked. We were so fond of Joseph, a purchase was actually made. I don't know if it's because he called me *Pavlova* (because I'm "so sweet" he said)or if it was because of the cherry tea or the hookah. And I don't know if he was setting us up for a purchase (I don't want to believe that) but I don't really care. The two hours spent with Joseph, his cousin Selim, and the 16 year old who worked at the nearby restaurant, Hakan, were really fun.

Oddly though, not everyone who is a salesman in Turkey wants to sell their products. One guy at the Grand Bazaar wanted to talk about the NBA; he didn't care if we even looked at his pashminas. But maybe that was a tactic too, in the end, because he was apathetic to our spending, I wanted buy something from him (I didn't though).

So, everyone has their thing. Some we will remember and some we have already forgotten. Bottomline is that if you want to sell carpets inTurkey you better get creative.

War Eagle!

Atlanta, Georgia

What a game yesterday in Auburn, Alabama! In our 2nd annual SEC game of the year trip, I witnessed the game with a solid crew from UT (Adam, Frank, Alex, and Nick). We had an awesome time, and it was even better that Auburn won.

Here are some pictures from the game:

http://www.dotphoto.com/Go.asp?l=newcomera&P=&AID=1802465&T=1

http://www.dotphoto.com/Go.asp?l=ahk&P=&AID=1802333&T=1

I am back in Atlanta now, sick with what seems to be a true Sultan's revenge from Turkey. On to Baton Rouge tomorrow.

On the Road Again

Washington, D.C.

I made it back safely to the U.S. late last night and am about to start the long drive to Atlanta. Then it's on to Auburn on Saturday for the SEC West matchup of the year.

I'll provide a few concluding thoughts on the trip in the coming days, but in the meantime I'd better get to driving...

High and (oh so) Low

Istanbul, Turkey

If I recall correctly, foreshadowing has been discussed once or twice on this Weblog.

The strange monster hits again.

I last left you with a brief yet descriptive note: the Turkey Trots were in full effect here in Istanbul. If only it had stopped there. As the "sayings" go here, the turkey has trotted for miles now and the Sultan has had full revenge. Yes, Sarah and I are still quite sick.

The fevers have subsided, but we are now thoroughly dehydrated and (I for one) ready to get out of this place. The city really is a marvelous place to visit, if not for the disaster health effects we have suffered just for being here. And this after we have been quite careful about what we eat and drink (only cooked vegetables and bottled water).

Despite these past few days of misery, we have mustered up a bit of energy to slowly see some of the city sights. And two nights ago for a brief few hours, we were able to completely forget about our sickness.

Charmoin and Crawford Tatum, good friends from Auburn, put me in touch with one of their friends from Turkey. If only I knew what we were getting into when I agreed to meet up with Emin for dinner. Emin is a delightful ball of energy. He reminded Sarah of the Turkish version of Thomas Farmer, and he reminded me of a mix between Willie Elias and Farmer. Witty, full of passion, genuine. Emin is flat out "fun to be around."

I spoke with Emin on the phone and asked him how I would know who he was when we met up at 6 PM on Monday night. "Oh, you'll know," Emin explained. And he couldn't have been more right. We were standing in front of our hostel when a taxi came tearing around the corner. Out pops a cheerful, shaved head Turkish guy in a sharp suit, shouting "Andy" and giving me a handshake and hug. A delightful first impression.

Emin whisked us away and between cell phone calls with US traders, he gave us a run down of the city. The traffic was terrible, so we went straight to dinner. I can't do the dinner justice in my description. We had a four-course meal at a very nice restaurant on the Bosphorous River, which separates the European side of Istanbul from the Asian side. From one of the best views of the city, we had calamari, fresh fish from the Bosphorous, traditional Turkish desserts and coffee, the strong national alcohol called Raki, and a lot more.

The food was excellent, but the company was even better. Once again, keep in mind that Sarah and I are both sick at this point. Hours earlier in the day we had wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a couch and TV for a movie marathon. Yet Emin really did make us forget about our sick stomachs (even if I had to go to the WC a few times during supper). Looking back, it amazes me that one personality can truly provide a temporary medicine.

It was definitely the "high" of what mostly has been an oh-so "low" time in Turkey.

Pay It Forward

Istanbul, Turkey

One topic that has yet to be discussed on this Weblog is the various languages that I have come across thus far on the trip. I've been in 11 countries to date with just as many different languages. Admittedly, many of the countries that we have visited have had quite a few English speakers. But others -- like our most recent visit in Bulgaria -- have had very few English speakers.

This posed a major problem yesterday when we got ready to make our way to the bus station for our "6-8 hour" (this will be important later) ride to Istanbul. We had reservations for the 11:30 a.m. bus with a micro-bus company, but had no idea of the company name, location, etc. All we had was a small post-it note that the hotel manager gave us after making the reservation. The scratched note was in Cyrillic, so ultimately our fate on making the bus on time rested with the taxi driver's ability to decipher the script.

Funny. He understood the note, but we ended up at an apartment complex. It didn't seem like a probable place for an international bus departure, but the dude didn't speak any English! Finally, after we said "Istanbul" about 13 times (at different paces, intonations, etc.), he understood and proceeded to drive us to the front of the apartment complex, which was indeed the location of various businesses -- including our Nikkilen bus company!

We were a little delayed in departure because of a rather large skirmish in front of the bus that occurred just before departure. We're still not sure what happened; the only things we know are: 1) a guy hit another guy; 2) people keep yelling "mafia"; 3) the police interrogated a girl that looked like the oldest daughter in Mrs. Doubtfire.

Finally on the road, we settled in for a jostling ride to Istanbul. Sarah slept for much of the way, while I enjoyed the scenery. The past few days I have been taken back to my summer in Ethiopia. Finally another setting that is totally non-Western. Driving through Bulgaria was amazing, especially the small villages. It was funny; we were in this huge bus driving on barely navigable roads and the bus barely even fit. At one point, we were slowly cruising through a small village. I looked left and there was a crew of boys chopping wood. On the right I spotted a donkey pulling a cart full of "something." And all the while, the little town shops and houses were about two feet from the bus window. Yes, the roads were that narrow.

We went through customs, immigration, etc. and got cool little visa stickers for a bargain price of 20 USD. Here's where the 6-8 hour figure is important. We arrived to Corlu, Turkey around 9 PM -- almost ten hours after our departure -- and stopped for a bathroom break etc. We were hungry and had no Turkish lira, and there were no ATMs in sight. Despite this, I got the urge to ask one of the local vendors -- a young man -- how much for one of his pretzel, pastry thingies. He signaled "three" and then I just nodded, knowing all too well that I could get one of those treats for a small 300,000 lira (about 20 cents) that I didn't have. I boarded the bus emptyhanded, but the kid followed me. He gave me a longing look, like if I didn't buy the pretzel from him then I would hurt his feelings, or worse: his business would go under.

Then came the language challenge that I first brought up in this entry. I had to explain that I had no money. I made what I figured was a univeral "no money" signal, a kind of snapping/rubbing of my fingers with my thumb. It worked. The kid understood. But he pushed a bit further, stuttering out "only" and showing three fingers again. Again with my poor sign language. This repeated one or two more times.

Finally, the boy truly understood. He walked up the stairs to the bus and handed me the pretzel. He said something in Turkish that I didn't understand, and then smiled at me innocently. I told him again that I didn't have money, and then a lady next to me interrupted. She explained: he said that I could have the pretzel, pastry thingie for free.

This poor kid in small town Turkey gave me food because I had no money. What a humbling experience that was. And how kind of the boy to do that.

*And just to let you know, we made it okay to Istanbul (after a crazy van ride later in the night that I'll write about later). Now Sarah has the fever and I'm posted by the toilet. Gotta love the Turkey Trots.

Brrrrr...in Bulgaria

Varna, Bulgaria

Beautiful beaches in Bulgaria? Who would have thunk it?

But it's true! We settled in for a nice lunch and tea yesterday afternoon along the coast of the Black Sea. Afterwards, we strolled the golden sand beaches. Just one problem: it's really cold here (especially for this southern boy). Still in all, Varna has been a relaxing beach town to visit. It reminds me of the little beach towns -- yet to be tackled by tourism -- that dot the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

Unfortunately, both Sarah and İ have had a bit of the Bulgaria Blues (read "upset stomachs"). İ suppose this is to be expected when journeying abroad. But even worse: I developed a fever last night. This is quite unusual for me, but İ am feeling a lot better now.

The keyboard that İ am currently using is terrible (the keys stick) and truly driving me crazy, so İ am going to have to cut this blog short. On the way to İstanbul via bus today!

One last note to Auburn friends: İ'll be at LSU vs. AU next week with some UT friends. Let me know if you can help with tickets.

25 years of Communism

Bucharest, Romania

-From Sarah

Because Andy was up until the wee hours drafting players for his fantasy football league, we got kind of a late start on exploring Bucharest. (To be fair, I was more than happy to sleep in...) After scouring the book, turns out there isn't that much to see, so we narrowed our focus and decided that our goal was to see Nicolae Ceausescu's parliamentary palace and cruise around to get a feel for the city. The palace, unfortunately, was closed until November to tourists but we did walk around the massive structure (2nd largest building in the world, the Pentagon being the first). While it is currently the parliamentary building and civic center, it was built to be the "House of the People" and serve as Nicolae's legacy really. It was completed in time for his execution in 1989. Ironic.

It's striking to see the pervasiveness of the old Communist ways of this country... tennements right next to shiny new buildings, or old 'bloc' housing with Samsung billboards on top, ATMs on every corner and no where to really spend the money (esp lacking restaurants). Every time we ventured out to find a meal we were faced with a long trek to find somewhere, ANYWHERE to eat. It was really odd. A guy that we met at the hostel said that he was here 7 years ago and nothing had changed. It saddened him that in 10 years the progression away from Communism was so slow. He gave countless examples of this including one interesting account about a train conductor not allowing him to lay down on the train (even though it was pretty empty) because, in his opinion, the Communism of the past had forced this man into making the lives of the people just a little harder than necessary.

In Brasov, we were waiting for the train to Bucharest when a little gypsy girl walked over to us and asked for a piece of my chocolate bar (it was sticking out of the side pocket of my bag). I gave her some after a minute of thought (she was speaking Romanian) and she ran away. Ten minutes later a little boy came over (equally as small and dirty) and he had been talking with the girl. He came over to me and rubbed his belly. I gave him some, he wanted more. Then she came over again and I gave them a bit more each and told them that was it (in italian because it is closer to romanian than english). He looked like he was going to hug me, but I flinched a little and he just patted my arm as a thanks, I think. They walked away to look for more food. I wasn't sure if candy was good for them or not. I wanted to give them the whole bar in a way but didn't want to contribute to their malnutrition. They were all alone. No parents, no adults. They conducted themselves like little people. It was sad. No childhood. Lots of stray dogs, and kids walking alone here.... It's really something.

I know this happens in other countries, and my own, but the ubiquity of it makes it much more apparent.

*By the way- the howling of the dogs every single night, all night long, only adds to my feeling that yes, all stray dogs in Romania are in fact rabid. In case anyone was wondering...

Draft Day in Romania

Bucharest, Romania

The visit to Transylvania has come to an end and we have arrived in Bucharest (after a smoke-infested train ride through the scenic mountain region). It would be nice if I could provide some graphic prose about the visit to Dracula country. It would be nice if I could tell you a tale. It would be nice to have a Hollywood-type photo to share on this blog.

We'll have none of that coming out of Transylvania. The visit was well worth it, but it turns out that our journey to Bran Castle to see Dracula's former residence was just for fun (and not for legend). We hopped on an antique city bus and took the 45 minute bumpy ride from Brasov out to Bran. Upon arrival, we were greeted by countless Dracula/vampire souvenir stands. Exciting. I've always wanted wine that looks like blood and a little puppet that has fangs. (Don't worry, Pops. I got you one too.)

So we made our way through the throngs of locals to the front door of the castle. We stop. We read the long narrative posted outside of the castle. Hmmm. No mention of Dracula there. Turns out that Vlad Dragula "might" have visited the castle once (although my travel book says that he actually lived there). Still in all, it was a neat castle and worth the visit.

But the real subject at hand: NFL football. Most of you know that I am an avid fan of football -- college and NFL. Well, it is currently 4:40 AM here in Bucharest, and I am logged in to a chatroom so that I can take part in my traditional fantasy football league with the LBJ School (UT). Now that's devotion. Unfortunately, I'm not that happy with my draft so far (*or the end results), mostly because these aren't guys that I usually root for. Just for those curious folks, here is the team that I put together from the other side of the world with the overall pick number listed first.

2 LaDainian Tomlinson (RB SD)
23 Terrell Owens (WR PHI)
26 Travis Henry (RB BUF)
47 Laveranues Coles (WR WAS)
50 Brett Favre (QB GB)
71 Dolphins Defense
74 Jeff Wilkins (K StL)
95 Antonio Gates (TE SD)
98 Willis McGahee (RB BUF)
119 Reggie Wayne (WR IND)
122 Tatum Bell (RB DEN)
143 Brad Johnson (QB TB)
146 Chiefs Defense
167 Anthony Thomas (RB CHI)
170 Anthony Becht (TE NYJ)
181 Jerry Rice (WR OAK)



In other news, I have to mention a quick bit about Sarah. She read in one of the guidebooks that there are a lot of rabid dogs in Romania. Now, keep in mind that this is the poorest country that Sarah has ever visited, so she's already having a bit of culture shock (mostly on the low prices, but also the poverty). I will put it simply: we have seen a lot of dogs in the past few days and according to the lady from Kentucky, every one of them has rabies. Funny stuff.

Dining J.R.R. Tolkien Style

Brasov, Romania

-From Sarah

Mmmmmm... Romanian food. Did I ever think that I would say that? Probably not. And to be honest, I am only basing this exclamation on one meal, but still, it was quite delicious. Let me back track for a second. We are currently in Brasov, Romania very near the Bran Castle that Bram Stoker writes about in Dracula (we are heading there today, actually). We arrived by train last night, found our hostel by having our taxi driver look not at the map on the brochure, but the picture, dropped our sacks and headed to a recommended restaurant called "Bella Muzica." We walked in, and then down a flight of stairs to the dining area. Andy had to do some ducking as the beams of theceiling were fairly low. Welcome to the Hobbit Hole, we thought. It really did look like the house that Frodo and pals lived, with rounded sides and all. We sat down at the table, were handed English menus and told that when we were ready we should push the red button. Along with the food menu was a song menu so that we could choose a little bella muzica for our dining pleasure. Could life get much better? Yes, they had Kenny Rogers on that menu. Fantastic.

We ordered beers, bean soup in a bread bowl, entrees and a side of polenta. I had chicken with mushrooms and cream; Andy had the prok platter. Because this restaurant is technically a Hungarian-Romanian-Mexican joint, we were served a complimentary shot of Romanian Plum Moonshine, followed by chips and salsa. Nice. When the enormous beers for $1 each arrived, so did our bean soup. Now, this was no ordinary bean soup mind you because with every bite you could scrape the side of the bowl and get a serving of bread with it. It was delicious. When the entrees arrived, the Kenny began to play. By the end of the meal we were so full that I couldn't even look at the dessert menu (seriously, what?!?). Known for their hospitality, our Romanian waiter wasequally as delightful as the meal itself. We waddled out of the restaurant very full, and very happy... all of this for less than $20 US dollars, total. I heart Bella Muzica.

*Note: This entry was written yesterday but is being published today because of the incredibly amazing computers in Romania.

*Note 2: We're presently on the way to Bella Muzica for lunch on the way out of town to Bucharest. Watch for an entry later today about Dracula's castle.

All that...and a Post Box!

Cluj Napoca, Romania

It's funny. Right before Damon left, I asked him if he had ever narrowly missed catching a train -- i.e. had he ever run up to a moving train quite late and had to jump on at the last moment. I believe that the literary term in use here is "foreshadowing."

Damon's answer was "no," although he has on several occassions gotten on trains in which he had no idea where they were going. If only Damon was here earlier today.

The plan was to leave Budapest on the 4:10 PM train. Sarah got the schedule online, and we were quite certain that it was leaving from the east station. This was in part because the Web site indicated so, but also because we had attempted to buy the tickets the day before at the said station and heard no other word contrary on the source of departure.

After making lunch, we left for the train station with a quick stop at the Internet cafe and American Express exchange for some Romanian lei. (By the way, I am now a multi-millionaire. So are you if come and visit me here.) We hop on the metro with (what we think is) plenty of time to buy tickets, chill out, board the train, etc. All the while, we were looking for a post box so I could drop off the postcard that I got for little sister Lizzie. If only she had sent me her address sooner!

And if only Damon was there. He always insisted on arriving at the train station 15 hours in advance. Sarah and I were there over an hour in advance, and I was already kind of nervous. So we walk up to the line to the purchase the tickets. Oh...by the way, the train leaves from the west station, the teller informs me.

Yikes. Now we're both really nervous. Less than an hour to get to the other side of town, and we're supposed to catch the "tram across from the McDonald's" to get there. Exciting.

As I finish up the purchase, Sarah goes to scout out the tram situation. This is when the story -- at least from our perspective -- got interesting. There we were: tickets purchased, hostel in Cluj Napoca booked, and a train to catch on the other side of town in 45 minutes. More exciting.

We frantically search the McDonald's area and cannot find the darn tram. We even ask a local teen, and he tells us an even different route. You know that feeling you begin to have when your favorite team is down by an impossible amount with just minutes left? That's how I felt. But Sarah came to the rescue, as she recommended checking around the corner.

Eureka, there was the tram. We hop on board with 25 minutes to catch our train. I'm following our route along the map, estimating in my head how long it takes us to go one city block then multiplying how many blocks we have to go. Yet all the while Sarah is multi-tasking. "You know what would be great," she says. "If it took six minutes to get to the train station and there was a post office in front so you can drop off the postcard for Lizzie."

Are you kidding me? We're about to miss the train and she's thinking about the postcard to Lizzie?

But guess what? The bus did in fact take six minutes to get to the station. We jump off and bust through the crowd. As we turn the corner, the gates open and there in the bright sunlight: a post box. (There was a musical interlude at that moment -- one of those higher-pitched, angel-resounding "Laaaaa".) I slipped the postcard in the box without even breaking stride, took 100 more steps, and we both boarded the train.

The story would be a little better if we had to jump on the moving train that I had asked Damon about. Still in all, it was quite an adventure. Fun. Exciting. But mostly nerve racking!

The famous baths of Budapest

Budapest, Hungary

I'd love to write one of those travel books. I think I would do a pretty good job at it. I'm a level-headed guy, have fairly good taste, and can write with ease (although the quality can certainly be questionable at times).

I'd really love to write one of those travel books about Hungary. Or maybe just an article in Southern Living or something. Or maybe just a blog entry.

Hungary. It's a lovely country...really, it is. Budapest, formerly the city of Buda on the western shore of the Danube River and Pest on the eastern shore, is a beautiful place located right in the center of Europe. The great location seems to have provided the city with a decent economy and an interesting cultural twist. Buda is the quaint area of the city: narrowly winding streets and cute little shops litter the landscape surrounding the majestic Royal Palace and beautiful Matthias Church. Pest is the commercial area of the city: busy and colorful streets and Westernized clothing stores dot every corner.

We visited all the major sights of the city, excluding a walled-in park of the various Communist statues saved from long ago. There were plans to attend, but we just do not have the time now. Upon arrival on Wednesday, we did a bit of trekking around to find a place to stay (as Sarah outlined in the first blog entry from Budapest). On Thursday, we checked out the largest church in Budapest, St. Stephen's, as well as the 2nd largest synagogue in all of Europe. Additionally, we saw the Parliament building, the opera house, and did some shopping in a great outdoor market. After bartering at the market, we returned home with the groceries for a feast of a dinner. Yesterday we saw various sights, including a long visit to the national Museum of Modern Art. My favorite painting was a nice Monet, while Sarah loved a Rodin sculpture called The Kiss. The afternoon was spent at a famous Hungarian "bath."

This is where my writing of the travel book would come in handy. The travel guides make the Hungarian baths sound like these marvelous natural spring baths with massage parlors, saunas, hot tubs, etc. Of course, Sarah was quite excited. Of course, I was less than excited. In any event, we ventured over there yesterday afternoon and both of us were sourly disappointed. The baths turn out to be little more than a public swimming facility. Mind you, I have nothing wrong with public swimming facilities. But I was expecting something right out of the Roman history pages. We swam for a modest 30 minutes and then jetted the set.

Today, we saw the previously mentioned Palace and Church in Buda. But this brings me to my final point for the travel book. All in all, the city was a nice one to visit with many interesting sights, good food, and a busy night life. But time and time again, Sarah and I were confronted by rude and unhappy people. I will not go as far as to make any generalizations on this point. Afterall, our landlady and two sellers at the market were quite nice. But other than that, I have noticed that the people are not nearly as friendly as in other places in Eastern Europe. In the end, Hungary needs to learn a little southern hospitality.

In other news, the plans have changed. We are going to Cluj-Napoca tonight, which is the unofficial capital of Transylvania. Then we're hitting up two nights in Brasov so we can visit Dracula's castle. And finally we'll make it to Bucharest on September 7th -- right in time for my online fantasy football draft!

Speaking of football, I am sick to my stomach about missing the first big day of college football. To set the record straight, Auburn is number one in my heart. WAR DAMN EAGLE! But I've gotta give a shout out for #2. HOOK 'EM HORNS!

Personal advertisements

Budapest, Hungary

Tomorrow I will post my official blog entry from Budapest. In the meantime...

Ad 1
My little sister, Lizzie, just started college at the University of Texas at Austin. Funny, right when I leave (and my older sister leaves Dallas), the gal goes to TX.

Anyway, as most of you can imagine, Lizzie is quite busy getting settled into the college life. So busy in fact, that she can't send her big brother her mailing address.

If someone has that address, please email it to me. Aredman71@aol.com

Ad 2
My good friend Sjoerd Nikkelen from the Netherlands is looking for some contacts in Maui. He just got a job there as a director of an international television program, and needs some contacts to the "local scene heroes." As Sjoerd told me, a guest role on a Dutch national television show is their reward... for what that's worth to an American.

My first entry...the pressure

Budapest, Hungary

-From Sarah

Yesterday morning we woke up in rainy Vienna and walked to meet a good family friend of Damon's called Gunther. He is a native Austrian and was quite a nice tour guide. He told us to meet him at Starbucks nearthe Opera House. Starbucks? With all of these amazing Viennese coffeeshops with gluttonous pastries.... but to be fair, it was pretty easyto find. He gave us some inside scoop on Vienna and showed us to St Stephen's and Hapsburg Palace. In St Stephen's we were rewarded witha great view of the city and managed to snap off a couple of nice pictures. One of us is afraid of heights and even they enjoyed the view, I think. After saying goodbye to Gunther we wandered around the city a bit, before saying goodbye to Damon a few hours later.

We left Vienna this morning headed for Budapest and even got a nice Hungarian stamp in our passports with a car symbol. Fantastic. Because we didn't have a place to stay yet we got dropped off at the information center where we were paired up with a lovely Hungarian woman who would be our landlady for the rest of our stay. She only speaks about 6 words of English, and we don't know her name, but her apartment is nice, and she smiles a lot. Since my Hungarian is rusty,we haven't had many interesting discussions, but I am pretty good at smiling we seem to get a long fine. She fixed Andy and I teawhen we arrived. She was excited about the tea.

All in all, Budapest looks to be a nice town. It's very pretty, and has a really cool vibe to it. We have big plans for this place so hopefully the next blog entry will be exciting. I have a bath house stop in my future... I can't wait.

Also, watch for Damon's final blog posting with his overall thoughts of the trip.