Budapest

It is Saturday, a quarter past eleven in the morning. I wake up in a dorm room in Budapest. My mouth is gut dry and feels like a dead rodent has been stored in there for a considerable period of time, my body feels battered as if I barely survived a rugby debut in the Heineken Cup final. I find myself in the upper unit of a bunk bed and am instantly relieved that I didn’t topple out while sleeping. My right upper leg prominently displays a long drawn, deep bruise, red contrasting the white background of bare skin, throbbing awkwardly. My head doesn’t feel much better. Raymon, already awake and in considerably better shape, accuses me of having blown my nose in his shirt last night before going to sleep, among many other things. The nuisance I had been to Karine was at least at par – although she didn’t seem to mind as much. About 700 Euros in Hungarian Forint is scattered throughout my bag. Slowly memories start drifting in. What happened?! I blame Air Lingus and Irish stag parties.

Our trainee-reunion to Budapest had been scheduled for months and was eagerly anticipated as the date drew closer. Everyone would fly from the Netherlands whereas I would fly from Ireland – the other foreign-placed were too far away to make the journey for the weekend. My flight was neatly scheduled to arrive circa half an hour later than the main throng, just enough for David and Raymon to promise to wait for me so that we could take a joint cab to the city centre. Unfortunately, at the time that they had landed and I was supposed to have touched Hungarian soil as well, I found myself still at Dublin airport. The reason? Just after having taken my seat 3 hours earlier we were informed by the pilot that air traffic control wouldn’t allow us to depart for five minutes. And another five. And another. After half an hour we were finally given the go-ahead, but now the plane gave in. Despite various engineers pulling their best tricks the “technical problem” couldn’t be solved and two hours after we had boarded we were ordered out of the airplane and back into the departure hall. Another 45 minutes later and we were guided onto a unit that was supposed to fly to Barcelona but wasn’t in the end. Random story but at least we could leave! As the Barcelona flight was destined for at least 1.5 times our number of passengers, the previous seating got messed up, and I found myself in the middle of a group of 30-odd Northern Irish on their way to Hungary to celebrate a stag party. Sitting right next to two chatty and considerably drunk lads I had to make a choice; get up and seek another seat in order to catch some sleep, or join in and make the best of a lousy start of what should be a great weekend. When I was asked by “Cham” –the least drunk of the two- whether I would like to join in the celebrations, I gave in. Cham had bought a large bottle of gin and a number of smaller 7-up bottles at the airport, along with three big plastic cups from some coffee bar. Before reaching Budapest the bottle was empty, the better part of its content shared between the three of us, and I had become the best of friends with the two lads beside me. I wasn’t quite aware yet of how drunk I was, as gin and 7up make a drink as smooth as lemonade. Well, the air hostesses were aware of that. So aware that they issued a “verbal warning” and threatened a follow-up with police on the ground. Luckily the reception on arrival was grumpy ground force rather than angry policemen and I bade my new friends farewell only to make my way to the taxi stand. Oh wait, money. I had no idea of the exchange rate so picked a random figure on the ATM screen, not aware that 200,000 Forint translated to about 700 Euro, way more than I would ever spend on such a weekend and quite the amount to be carrying in your pockets when roaming the streets of Budapest at midnight. Anyway, I stuffed the banknotes in my pockets, caused a scene at the taxi stand because I thought I was being ripped off, and was driven to the hostel where David welcomed me and took me to the others who were enjoying their drinks in a bar around the corner. Hugs and slaps on the shoulder and a new drink in my hand signified officially the beginning of a new day –as it was just after midnight- and really and truly the beginning of an eventful night. Too bad I can’t remember too much of it.

The next day featured strolls through what is, after four visits, without a doubt one of my most favourite cities in the world. Being together with what are in theory colleagues but in essence very much friends was delightful and I enjoyed their presence tremendously. A visit to the parliament, sipping from drinks and eating Goulash out in the sun, roaming through gorgeous streets that breathe history, and of course catching up with all the stories and experiences that everyone had to share made for a fantastic Saturday. Dinner was organised in one of the city’s many hidden secrets; a cool venue with looks and atmosphere that were definitely superior to the quality of its food. Luckily Lian had the best meal she had ever had, making up for some other people’s lesser experiences. While not many people were in the party mood after an eventful Friday night and a full day of city-strolling, the club we ended up in was so thrilling that even the most reluctant of us were instantly convinced that this was something that couldn’t be missed out on. Budapest features many apartment blocks that have a square courtyard, surrounded by about five stories of rugged but classy exterior with wood panelled shutters and arched windows. Well, this club was located in one such courtyard, albeit with a roof placed on top of it, generating the experience that you’re outside as well as indoors at the same time. The music was excellent, the crowd featuring fewer scumbags than outside, and the vibe in our group enticing to say the least, with enthusiastic dancing drawing the eyes of many a square-faced local. Again the clock hit five when the day ended and my Sunday was largely spent on sleeping and strolling through gorgeous Budapest, having said goodbye to the others early in the afternoon, as the time left until my flight departed didn’t quite allow me to join in the afternoon activity to visit the spa. Well, I knew what I was missing out on. The return flight went a whole lot smoother than the way there and it didn’t take long for me to fall asleep when I finally touched my pillow at ten pm that evening. Budapest, you were quite exhausting, but totally worth the trip. Exquisite company and a gorgeous venue; it doesn’t get much better than that. Thanks all for a wonderful weekend!!