Last day in Europe and who knows where we are or what river that is?

Ok, we made it to the airport hotel in Vienna (our jumping off spot for Newark) but not without some stress and lots and lots of boredom.  I'll try to not overdo it (okay, "try" is probably not accurate :)), but...I'll try to go in chronological (almost order).

I went to breakfast in the 5-star spa/hotel alone, letting EH rest and sleep.  As I sat waiting on my continental breakfast (see pic, the orange juice was VERY orange), I decided to double check train arrangements to Budapest.

I soon was texting EH that I couldn't find a train to Budapest but there seemed to be viable bus options.

By the time I got to the room, she'd found something.  "This advice page said, 'go to the Slovakian national railway page to find trains from Bratislava to Budapest.'"  Yes, people were giving advice as they were having my problem.  I went there. "How did you get it in English?"  "I didn't. "  We determined there was an 1153 "fast" train to Budapest and went about our business.

But first -- a why the f**k: in the midst of this, we determined it'd be easier to just take the train to Vienna and catch our plane there.  So I called Austrian Airlines first (we are flying home on their airline, but it's one of those share things with United).  She tells me she can't do that because United issued the ticket.  Of course, getting United in the States from Europe means...well, I got someone.  Told her the problem.  She said "oh, you can do that, but let me see what it'd cost."  She put me on hold for 5 minutes and comes back with this: We'll have to reissue the ticket from Vienna, so it'd be $300 for this, $50 for us talking to you, and another $300 for that." !!!!  I quickly said good-bye, not bothering to find out if that was for one or both of us.

Riddle me this, Riddler: why?  Why would they charge me more money than I paid for the whole roundtrip ticket (by triple digits!) for a seat I already had?!?!!?  I get the security worry about not getting on the plane in Budapest, but...I don't get airline pricing.  And they were going to re-sell our seats to Newark in a day?  SMH.  A lot.

Problem 2:  Bradislava Castle doesn't let you go inside.  Who knows why?  But it's a 50s reconstruction of the original, which Napoleon (that bastard) destroyed in like 1809.  Today was battle reenactment day -- thus...

on the street next to us.

We couldn't get an Uber (our original plan) from the bakery & coffee shop where EH got her morning fast break, so we walked "Google" 12 minutes and got the bus back.  We uber'd to the train station, where the 1153 was 5 minutes late.  We sat for about 45 minutes, having gotten there early.  BTW, the tickets cost all of 30E (I wish I could find that symbol on here!).

The trip from Bratislava to Budapest stays on the north side of the Danube, in Slovakia.  Slovakia was the poor side of "Czechoslovakia"; Bratislava is the largest city, 500,000.  Some of the stops weren't on Google maps.  I'm not kidding.   Look up Sturovo and see what you get.  Let along the next stop (in Hungary) which was something like "Skav."

Funny thing: they checked tickets about an hour and a half into the 3 hour ride.  In Slovakia.  Another guy came in right after we crossed the border and checked again -- twice!  I guess the Hungarians worry about the rabble from Slovakia sneaking in.

BTW, we really liked Bratislava.  Not sure there's enough there to bring us back, but it's nice enough to recommend anyone who is anywhere near there.   Like Vienna.  Or Budapest.  Prague is a ways away, but even that...

After a snack in Budapest, we went to the airport.  We got the taxi at the train station and I made a mistake and got change in Forints (you remember, the Hungarian currency) for snacks.  The driver took about the only route to the airport and said "30 euros" when we got there!  I only paid the driver on Monday, hired ahead of time, 24!  And we went farther into town.  I gave him most of the rest of my szlotnies (inside joke) and we went in to wait for the plane.

The receptionist at Austrian Air couldn't have been nicer.  Since it was a share with United, neither would let me pick seats.  She got us seats on tomorrow's flight.

And we waited for hours.  Literally.  I spent EVERY bit of currency I had, down to like 6 euros in coins and 100 drachmas.  The board said "we'll tell you what gate in X minutes."  In Brussels they did this and we got to the gate as they started boarding.  This happened again.  But we were on the flight.  Which is worth mentioning for this --

We were on the plane so efficiently (I'm not supposed to say the Austrians have "German efficiency", but...) that we took off almost on time after a 15 minute delay.  They actually served drinks during the 40 minute (no shit!) flight.  And our bags were there within like 2 minutes after we got to the luggage carousel.  Get this: in ten minutes, we were on the ground, got our bags, and were in the hotel restaurant having their buffet.  The most expensive meal of the trip.  :).

and, given things, here's the appropriate final food pic of the trip -- double dessert on the last night!

It's been a great trip.  We didn't learn a word of Hungarian or Slovakian, but really loved both countries and their capitol cities.  Vienna was impressive, in a lot of ways, but we both thought it lacks charm.  Neither of us thought it'd be high on our "gotta go back" list.  Budapest, more likely.

So, intrepid reader, here's your final picture link -- with a shout out to our next traveling companions, Bing and Dorothy (see if you can find the reference to you in the pics).

We'll be back in two weeks from...heck, somewhere up north.

Your intrepid blogger.

Bouncing around Vienna & Bratislava (look it up)

 Opening: I was told early  that "hopalong" was not a good new nickname. & she just knew that Salzburg was the 4th largest city in Austria.:) EH!

The morning was spent at 2 art galleries -- the Leopold & the Kunsthistoriche (art history, I guess). At Leopold, saw more Expressionism that I feel is healthy, especially the Schiele. The notes said he painted all these nudes because he was an existentialist & concerned with their themes. That's why so many were of him & they were "flattering"if you catch my drift. Nudge nudge.

On the top floor (remember "hopalong" and her blistered, bloody toes) was the Gustav Klimt exhibit.  EH admitted disappointment -- I thought it was a solid modernist exhibition.  Not an overwhelming number, but enough to know his work pretty well.  EH bought souvenirs.  Not me.

Then across the Museum Quarter (yes, they have a whole area full of museums) -- but we couldn't find the entrance to the Kunsthistoriche.  We actually (it turns out) stood and talked about the door, but decided there needed to be more to it -- like people walking in.  So, unnecessarily, we circled this huge baroque building and ended up going through the door ("eingang").

We sat on the steps inside and looked at the map and decided everything either of us wanted to see was on the first floor in the rooms numbered mostly in the 20s.  So, off we went.

This was the Hapsburg's art collection.  As I pointed out to her, at least one of them had a thing for naked breasts.  (sort of a counter to the previous museum, but he did breasts, too).  And a thing for heads chopped off -- there must have been five paintings depicting Judith with Holofernes's head.

 Oh, yeah, and the other "go to" for the museum -- Mary Magdalene, sorrowful and repentant.  And, just to connect the dots, a good half the time sorrowful and repentant sans top.  Funny how that works.

They had two rooms of Rubens's.  I like Rubens enough; EH isn't a fan.  A room of Brueghel Srs.  A room of van Dycks.  A room of Caravaggios.  It was an impressive collection, especially if you take it literally that it was the archduke or emperor's private collection before.  You'd need a 2,500 room mansion...oh, yeah, they had one!  :)

I've spent too much time on this, as it turns out.

HERE'S THE PICTURE LINK

Then onto the train to Bratislava.  Europeans are proud of their train system.  The train to Bratislava was one bale of straw short of having chickens and being from one of those movies.  Late 20th c. style.

A woman got on in the eastern burbs of Vienna and sat across from us and pulled out her phone.  I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP: she talked on the phone the entire time she was on the train.  And fairly loudly.  In German (not that that mattered).  When she hung up once I felt relief, when she went to dial another number I almost reached out and took the phone from her and started an international incident.  I shook and held it in and she got off a couple steps before Bratislava.

We got a taxi ride from the station to the hotel.  23Es!!! double what it was in Vienna.  EH looked (after) and found Wiki Travel saying "don't just grab a taxi at the station, they are shysters who gouge tourists."  Been there, done that.

The hotel is very nice -- Booking.com says 5-stars.  Here's the bathroom, see what you think:

Best one so far.  Tomorrow night in Vienna may be a let down.

The front desk person (Angelika) told us to take the bus down to the castle (on the hill below us) and walk down to Old Town.  To get tickets at the tobacco shop for .70 or .80 euros.

EH walked away as I tried to use Google translate and my Clouseau accent to get "eight baseek bus tickets".  I gave her my phone with bus ticket on it and she shrugged how much and showed me .90 euro ones, longer than I needed, and I bought those.

We started the walk down the hill and there was a pharmacy; this time the pharmacist, or counter person, to be vague when we aren't sure, admitted to speaking a little English.  I was able to buy that American staple: ibuprofen.

Then to this lovely church, St. Martin's, which sits on the west end of Old Town (parts of which date back to the 10th century).

We have a very positive impression of Bratislava, despite the fleecing by the taxi driver.

Here's the Old Town, toward St. Michael's Gate --

We sat and had home-made lemonade on the corner and watched people going by, speculating on how many were Americans (probably quite a few).

Then we went to dinner.  EH found the best Central European cuisine in Bratislava (which might be the best...you fill in the blank).  She had pig knuckle, which came with potato pancakes.  Pictured.

And, then, sore feet and all, after discussing not having time to see it otherwise, we walked the 12 minutes (.5 KM according to Google) in the opposite direction from the hotel to see this -- which is probably a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Google maps suggested Uber and in 2 minutes a guy pulled up in a small, if not exactly rickety, car and whisked us to the top of our hill (here's the photo to show how high above B'lava) for less than 4 euros!  We're in Slovakia, we still exploit the workers.

We were a couple thousand FitBit steps below yesterday, but still impressive given how hurt and worn out we were.  EH was a trooper.  And I still want that woman's cell phone. :)

Tomorrow, a last castle, last train ride, and short flight back to Vienna.  It's almost over...!!!

Viennese Palaces (+) in a Day; or, I'm just a simple gardener

[There were many photos.  Here's the link to the new album.  Enjoy.  I know some will beg for captions.  Another day, another life. ]

The second title comes from the voice over, and EH's constant repetition of it, from the palace tour at Schonnbrun...and then again at their other place in the city, Hofburg.   Also known as "Sisi's rooms."  (more on that, gag gag, later)

So you get the gist of all this, and our prole response, here's the "summer palace" --

A mere 1,000 rooms.

But the Hapsburgs, as we were told repeatedly, wanted to have the common touch, so they all learned a trade.  The last one was a gardener.  Of course, as Meg pointed out, he was a "simple gardener who had two attendants to pull him out of his bath every morning and wipe him down" or, as I put it so eloquently standing in line, I wasn't sure if this characteristic made them better or more likely to have someone attempt to assassinate them -- which happened regularly it seems.  You know, the simple emperor with 1,000 rooms, with gilt on the walls, the man of the people, and all...SMN!

But, on a slightly lighter note, we started the day with this --

This place, the Cafe Einstein, was two blocks from the hotel.  And, yes, ICYMI, on the left front corner is custard.  EH *made* me eat it for breakfast.  The waiter didn't speak English and neither did the menu, so we worked Google translate hard (a handy thing) and this is what we ordered.  Their "grosse" as I recall.  Oh, and, not pictured, it came with breads and two boiled eggs.

The discussion, given all the pics of Einstein on the walls, led to Albert (who we determined had nothing to do with Vienna, but is an intellectual rock star and all).  Having read Isaacson's biography and seen the first 3 episodes of the National Geographic series, I pointed out his genius was based on a few papers written in one year.  I was given heck!  "How many times did the man have to re-write physics?!?!?!?"  I just pointed out that the great man himself made no bones about it, according to Isaacson (and his own papers) that he was disappointed he never got further on the General Theory.  You know, light breakfast conversation.

Then to Schonnbrun.  1,000 rooms.  Summer place.  A la Versailles.  Supposedly Marie Antoinette was overwhelmed by Versailles, but given the size of this place, well...

We heard a lot about how the next-to-last Emperor, Franz Joseph, who ruled 68 years up to 1916, was such a common guy.  Got up early, worked hard days, didn't like pomp.  Just ruled over 70 million people and had places in Vienna with 1,000 and 2,500 rooms.  You know, Joe Shmo on the street.

After lunch (pictured), we took the U(nderground) to the other palace -- the Sisi Museum. Okay, if we were gagging a bit at Schonnbrun, it gets better.  Sisi, Elizabeth, was Franz Joseph's wife.  They married when she was 16, a Bavarian princess.  She was a very attractive woman and the voice over let us knew she knew it and worked to keep it that way -- including a study where she actually worked out (a chin up bar, rings, etc).

Sisi gets credit for the stuff in this palace.  This was the big one downtown, which many generations built onto, until the 2,500 rooms.  The tour began with, and I'm not making this up, 40 rooms of silver and plates.  40.  No shit.  EH asked at one point why anyone needed that many gilded candelabras...

After the 40 rooms, which we didn't dally in, we went through the royal apartments.  The voice over in the audio guide included the same lines about Franz Joseph our everyman (with 2,500 rooms here, right?) etc.  They seem particularly proud of a recording they have of him saying the pro forma words at the end of his audience, which roughly translated were "nice talking to you, we're done."  Except shorter.  He wasn't wasting much time with small talk.  You know, being busy working on the empire and all.

By the end of all this,  EH was worn down, so we stopped for a drink (there's a Starbucks in central Vienna!?!!? who knew?!!?!?) and I walked down to see St. Stephen's "dom" as it's named.  The 900 year old structure is an excellent example of Gothic architecture.   And love those roof tiles.  I bet those aren't 11th century.

and, gentle reader, if you thought we were too pooped to poop, no!  We then walked the 900 meters (so saith Google maps, liar!) to the "Secession."  This is a small gallery famous for its Klimpt mural.  You will seem some pictures of some of the art there...and, yes, really, there are rocks on the floor as one exhibit.  Yes.  Really.   And then there's the shot that you may not recognize, there's a bottle of water on that post in the middle of the room.  NO!  Not "a bottle of water" but a half...half...full? empty? bottle of water.  SMN #2.

Then back to the hotel for a pre-dinner nap and shower.  Then to a nearby "Austrian" cafe, after an abortive stop, and we had this, yes, this for dessert!  Finally, strudel!  And, yes, my friends, EH really did burst into "Toaster Stroo-dle" as the waitress walked away with our order.  Where's the embarrassed emoticon? 😞

Now, back to Sisi:  Sisi bore Franz Joseph, who the voiceover said adored her, multiple children (who can keep track of all the Franz's?) but she wasn't big on much of it.  They quoted her on marriage about spending 30 years having been forced into a decision at age 15 that you didn't understand.  She wrote poetry and liked to travel and was "rarely at court."  He had like 6 pictures of her in his study/office.  She had none of him in her similar room.  All of her family back in Bavaria and the youngest daughter.

Well, Sisi had the luck of history on her side: in 1896 or abouts she was assassinated by an Italian activist while in Switzerland.  She was laid in state at the Hofburg, where we were, and etc etc, creating almost instantly a cult of Sisi.  There are movies.  Some from Hollywood.  etc etc.

Let me finish with some generalizations: we've read that Vienna is regularly ranked as the best city in the world to live in.  We see that.  It is clean.  The underground runs on time.  It seems to have everything you'd want in terms of culture.  However, we both liked Budapest better.  Dirtier, grittier, no one seemed worried about time -- my anecdote was that the woman at the checkout counter at Schonnbrun asked for my ID!  I was using my AAA travel card.  I hadn't signed it.  No one had asked in 5 days.  But she pointed out that it said "not valid without signature."  I pointed out I had no ID that matched the embossed "Travel Card" on the front. :) . I showed her my passport, she said "I had to..." and I wondered...WTF!

Now, to traveling: I admit to screwing up this arrangement in Vienna.  We are staying in a very nice hotel -- at least one star better than the one in Budapest -- across the street from the university.  However, as I scouted and arranged this, it was supposed to be "close" to the train station -- turns out we came into a different train station!  and it's not close to the center of town, really (not like in Budapest), so there are places to eat, but it's not touristy, so Google translate is teaching us new words.  Like Frielandi -- which is a free range egg.

As you can see from the pictures, there would be much else to tell, but I have 50% more steps on my Fitbit today than any other day on the trip.  And tomorrow there's another gallery, and then to Bratislava...where I'm not sure what to expect, although we are booked in the only (who's surprised it's just one?) 5-star hotel in the city.

I will go to sleep tonight, pondering 3,500 rooms and being a simple gardener.  :)

Midway (between Budapest and Vienna)

EH has me humming Strauss's *Blue Danube.*  Or some off-key proximity thereof.  She started this when she actually saw the Danube for the first time in Budapest on Monday night.  She's kept it up even after recognizing Strauss was Austrian...until today, where we passed a hotel named after him.  Yes, it's like that in Vienna.

But first what EH calls "traveling with pedants."  The esoteric discussion over dinner last night was "what is the difference between a dumpling and pasta."  Since most readers will know how I feel about pasta, you can imagine how this comes up.  Since I am NOT a fan of dumplings.  She says "they are the same thing" and it goes from there.  Answer: although they can have the same ingredients, no one "prepares" dumplings, unlike rolling pasta.  I argue the dumplings I know have no eggs, but her google search denies this.  You know you can find ANYTHING on google.

Dinner tonight.  Picture.

For those of you (cough cough) who do the German thing, you may recognize this as a "palatschinken."  Right.  Anyway, the English version of the menu called it a "pancake."  We laughed at the translation: either the Austrians are still pissed about Marie Antoinette and don't want to touch French or they have a serious misconception of a pancake.  (they are crepes...duh)

Which led to the "what's the difference between a crepe and a pancake" question -- pedants on vacation.   Answer: pancakes have a rising agent. 

So, dinner.  We found this cafe which was quite nice about a ten minute walk from our hotel, which is quite nice.  EH ordered...wait for it...Viennese goulash!  What??!?! What, what?!!?!?  

She did not say for a fact it was better than the Budapest version, but she did admit potatoes make everything better (for her).   It was "more vinegary."  Thus saith Julie Child. 

We arrived in Vienna after a mostly blah train ride, where there was no Wifi as promised till we reached Austria (and no cell service for us, though, as is traditional, someone nearby had phone conversations AND someone else had their phone set on "alert me if there's wind" and it beeped constantly -- thanks, dude, glad to know you're so popular, but TURN IT OFF!!!!!).

Karen asked for pictures from the train.  Like this one. 

Nope, don't know.  We went through cities with names I'd never heard before.   All in western Hungary.  There was no landscape worth documenting at 70 mph and the rail stops weren't anything to blog about either. 

We ate lunch outside the rail station in Pest (pronounced for us pedants as "pesht"), eschewing instead of chewing Burger King, McDonalds and KFC.  I'm not making this up.  OC there was a Starbucks there and...wait for it -- one on our walk to dinner here in Vienna.  You see my shocked face. 

Our morning included a trip out to Heroes monument, a circle on the end of one of Pest's avenues.  This was built in 1899 for the Millenial Exhibition.  It's Gabriel on the column and a bunch of guys named Milosc and Laslo are the statues.  

The Agricultural Museum looks like an old church --

and there's a spring that spits out hot water (72 degrees C, we were told by the tour guide) from under the Heroes square -- and into their "famous" baths (we went in, saw no one bathing, and left).  If you can figure this one out: you can drink the bath water (yuck) and it helps your gastro-intestinal ailments.  By killing you, most likely. 

And that was it.  

Some things to know: several times I was asked if I wanted my purchase on my Visa card (don't leave home without it) in HUFs or in American dollars or Euros.  I ended up going with HUFs -- the one time I know they wanted $12+ and the charge came through as $11.50.  Shysters.  

Also worth knowing: most of the good stuff in Istanbul is on the European side of the Dardanelles.  Just sayin'.  

Tomorrow we are going to maybe two palaces.  If EH is up to it.  She had a bout of the water retentions today and we had to slow down.   She seems better before and after dinner (didn't have the multiple glasses of Hungarian wine with her goulash tonight).  So, fingers crossed.  And, to save time, we aren't hopping on and off, but taking the underground (the Metro) straight to places tomorrow and Friday.  An hour dragging around the city on a bus is a good way to get to know a place, but it cuts into your actual looking time. 

But here's our first impression: Vienna ain't no Budapest.  The train station was newer, sleeker and more lively.  The taxi driver was Nikki Lauda.  The church near our hotel (Votivkirche) is only 150 years old but is mistaken for a Gothic one in town that's 700 years older.  Vienna is cleaner and you can tell this was the rich end of the Empire.  Bastards!  Bigger buildings, bigger promenades, you name it.  

But it looks nice. 

Here's the picture link.  I'll create a new album tomorrow for photos, so there won't be so many to get through.  

We're halfway through.  Arrividerci.  Or...guten nicht or some such shite. 

Big Beautiful Day in Budapest

Warning! alliteration with B's coming.

It was a busy day with a bus ride in Budapest today.

Weather: when we got around to go out for the day it was 69.  For you foreigners, that's 20 in dog years.  It got up to around 80...with bright sun (as you'll see from the pics) -- warm.

To begin: we started the day non-too early, except for vacationers, as no site opened till 10.

Here's a pic of breakfast:

EH tells me (there's a reason why she's "Encyclopedia Hicks," EH) that Hungarians love their donuts.  There's actually a listing of top 13 donut shops in Budapest.  NS!

The one in 2nd row down, center right, pink with black center, if you can read the label, is "Happy Poo."

And, Mrs H rightly reminded me of the Jim Gaffigan rift from his new Netflix special about getting caught bringing donuts into the country.  "You know you can get them here, right?" :)

Then to the bottom of the hill in Buda (we are on the Pest side) and the ride of the funicular.  Here's my video -- it would have been better if we'd gotten in the first car instead of the second.  But fun, nonetheless. 

From the top of Castle Hill, the views are amazing.  Here's one.  And here's the link the photo album for the first two days (link):

 We spent a bunch of time in the Hungarian Historical Museum, based around the ruins and not-so-ruins of Buda [not Pest] Castle.  What we learned (adding to EH status): Hungary has spent most of its known history being someone else's b***h.  :).  They even credit the HUNS!  NS!  Then to the Angevins for a few centuries.  There was a Luxemborg prince.  A whole line of Polish kings.  And we shouldn't forget either a century under the Ottomans, another under the Hapsburgs, the Soviets...bleep, I could go on and on.

That they have any real history left is kinda amazing.   And, on top of that, the dumbasses tried to blow up and destroy part of the castle foundation during a construction project in the 50s!  Sheesh.

But our favorite line went something like this about the Soviet era: "the design of this space was bleak and soulless."  Uh huh.  Proud of THAT heritage, say what.

Then we went for a Hop On/Hop Off bus.

This led to today's "can't you be more stupid" tourist "moment."  We were told by a cashier who spoke something like English (we neither speak anything like Magyar, the language here, so she was WAY ahead of us :)) that the stop was down the hill.  We found the stop and the sign had a 3 on the poster.  Stop #3.  Got it.

We waited over half an hour, and we thought the buses were half an hour apart.  After some thinking and wondering, I finally figured out that the 3 was in a black circle and the black circle meant the black line, which, LO AND BEHOLD!  was the NIGHT line!  It wasn't coming for hours.

We walked down to the base of the hill, found sign #20, had "lunch" (I had apple strudel, EH had some green s**t on a pastry, seasoned, I was told, with paprika (wait for it -- this will become a thing soon).

We then rode for an hour.

Two things worth mentioning we saw on the ride: the St. Margrit's Bridge takes an 150 degree turn in the middle of the river (on St. Margrit's Island).   I've never seen such a thing.  Bizarre.

And there are parts of Pest, designed by a Frenchman in the 19th century, that remind you of the boulevards like Hauptmann in Paris.  Unlike the Parisians, they allow gaudy signs and wires for things like street lights and public transport, but the broad avenues with those design buildings have that feel.

Then off, near the hotel.  We then stopped for official lunch, which avid readers will remember from last summer's California trip.  That's EH with her mango strawberry ice cream.  Lunch of the gods.  Okay, in chocolate, it's lunch of the gods.  Mango.  Yuck.

 Not far from the ice cream we found!  this is the Michael memorial picture -- "oh, s**t! there's a Starbucks here."  Wait till you see the picture of the Hard Rock (there was one on Grand Place yesterday in Brussels and there's one somewhere here -- we've decided where 5 Americans are gathered there has to be a Hard Rock.  And where's there's 5 wannabe Irish Americans, there's an Irish Pub (there's one on the main drag here...sigh).

 Now, to the Budapest Eye.  For those of you who don't know, I don't *DO* heights.  EH was amazed I willingly paid and went up.   I was only a little sick. :). But got those great photos, including this one, which is of our hotel (it's right across the street).  The entrance is in that shadow on the left side, but that's it.  We have an inner facing room, so you can't see me standing at the window.  Nevermind.

And, then, after a nap (I have a rule about naps in the vacation agenda, which has been violated constantly since 2002), to dinner.

Another Hungarian place.  This one is small and busy -- the only table we needed to sit down and be done in less than two hours.  Here' the amuse bouche, which had garlic sour cream on top.  ICYMI that orange colored powder on top is...wait for it...paprika!  Who knew?

 Meg had the prix fixe, which included this goulash soup.

 I had the vegetarian option, which was mushroom paprishka (see the orange powder on top?) with dumplings.

 You can see the other items in the link -- Meg had duck over cabbage and we had dessert, mine the chocolate sauce (terrible idea!) slathered sponge cake and Meg the apple torte with custard sauce.

Then we went to St. Stephen's Basilica for a concert.  The organist was quite good (duh).  What I found amazing was the place echoed so much from the dome that I didn't know how the singers didn't just stop to let it roll by -- it was like the echo sometimes stepped on the next line.  I will spare you my "comic" asides ("she's good with that fiddle") and say that Meg's takeaway was that they claim to have St. Stephen's mummified hand in the crypt.  He's only been dead a thousand years!  Gee, I don't get why she questions this.

And, to come full circle (pun intended), here's the Budapest Eye, after the concert, from our hotel entranceway.  Nice, eh?

Great day.  Tomorrow, some Budapest, then off to Vienna (we have hotel reservations there tomorrow night).  Don't count on a blog.  Just sayin'

Day 1+?: Brussels and then Budapest

What day is it?

For those of you who have taken the international overnight flight to Europe, you will be familiar with this question.  You leave the States in the evening and then "sleep" on the plane (my Fitbit denies there was any sleep ): ) and then get off the plane having lost 6 hours (in our case).  

But it's vacation: every day's a Saturday, right?

The journey began in Brussels, where we'd never been, and which both EH and I enjoyed.  The highlight of Brussels, so some guide wag said, was the medieval part of the city.  So, that's where we went.  The Grand Place was excellent -- that's it in the photo.  

 You can see it is quite a nice square.  We were hungry (again, what day is it?) so we sat at the cafe on the square, on this beautiful, sunny day and had...yes, Belgian waffle.  And, no, it didn't taste differently than any other waffle -- the batter wasn't sweeter, the powdered sugar sugarier...but it was fun.

There was that one "stupid American" moment: the menu was in three languages.  So, I spoke some terrible variation of French and Spanglish to the waiter, something like "Merci, por favor."  EH laughed and laughed.

After buying some chocolates (there were only like 6 chocolate shops on the square, including the most famous to Americans, Godiva), EH saw a "comic strip" store and went in.  As I stood outside, leaning on the window sill, no less than two women (I'm NOT making this up) asked me for directions!  IN FRENCH!  The first was put off when I said I didn't speak French, but the second I was able to point toward what I thought was a taxi stand near the train station.  I guess I have that kind of look -- in French.

On the train to the airport, I embarrassed EH again (it's a gift).  The woman across from us was reading a paper titled "Metro" but it was in a language I didn't understand.  So, I asked.  "It's Flemish."  EH said "what did you think Flemish was?"  To which I responded, "Well, it used to be known as the Spanish Netherlands."  The woman smiled and said "Not since the 1500s."  Yes, I'm that old. 

Earlier, when EH wanted to know where Ghent was, as a train was heading there, I reported that all I knew of Belgian geography I got from Uncle Toby, who received his "war wound" (cough cough, literary allusion) "there" in Tristram Shandy during the War of Spanish Succession (ca. 1702).  Not many trains back then.

Then off to Budapest. 

Unbeknownst to us (till we got here), Hungary (to repeat my bro-law Butch's joke, where everyone is...wait for it...hungry) has its own currency.  Although part of the EU, they don't use the Euro!  According to the grocer, the current rate of exchange is 295 HUF to 1 euro!  Whoa!  so, here's what came out of the bank machine. 

 The ride from the airport was meh -- I did the bright thing of hiring a driver, who was waiting for us with the sign with my name on it (I've always wanted to tell someone I was Jones and take their driver :) ). Miklos did not speak much English, but he took his tip in euros. :)

The hotel is about what you expect from 3***s in Budapest, small, clean and ok.  Not your grandpa's Holiday Inn.  And the entryway!  Yikes!

But we are a five minute walk from the Danube and these views.

Budapest has some great looking buildings, but it does seem a bit...well, "Eastern Europe."  The Budapest Eye is right across the street -- tomorrow's blog MIGHT include shots from there.  I think you can see Putin from there. 

And, finally, Hungarian food.  We had the tapas plate, which included horse sausage (who knew?!  -- we were told that it is leaner than most sausage), and a cheese pate that was heavy on the paprika (this is true of ALL Hungarian food, it seems).  EH went for the veal ragout with dumplings (pictured).  It was quite good.

There was a donut shop across the street.  Which tells you where my mind is.

So, that's day 1, or 2, or 1+.  Catch you next time.