Jordan Brock

Close to the end of our first day in Budapest, and we’re a little weary from a lot of walking, just sort of passing time until dinner. It’s rainy out, and it seems that Budapest shuts down on a Sunday, so we’ll just eat in the restaurant in the hotel. We ate there last night (I had a magnificent Wild Boar Stew with Gnocchi) and it’s pretty good. And slightly cheaper than Australian prices, which is a welcome turn of events after the gougind prices in Sweden.

We got into Budapest at about 9 o’clock last night and found ourselves pretty much smack in the middle of the city on a Saturday night. Quite busy. We had read in our guidebooks a series of horror stories about taxis being run by the mafia, so we were a little wary. Fortunately, we got an honest driver who was more than helpful, and our trip to the hotel ended up being about a third of the price we had expected. The hotel is very pleasant, if a little worn, but very comfortable.

I got up early to watch the Formula One, the only problem was the German commentary, which made it a little hard to work out what was going on. But I was happy to see it, germans or no.

A quick breakfast and off we went on our walking tour. The city is quite smoggy, no doubt a relic of the communist regime, but nothing like Los Angeles or Cape Town. We walked around a corner and saw the Budapest Palace, an imposing series of buildings that really puts other palaces in their place. It’s huuuuge. And it’s apparently a lot smaller than it used to be, with lots of damage in World War II and the Communist era (their version of restoration work was to knock buildings down!). It’s been seriously damaged and repaired 86 times in the last 700 years. So no doubt there are dynasties of workmen who have earned their livelihoods doing nothing than work on the Palace. And a damn good job they’ve done as well.

We then headed across the River Danube (not at all blue) into Pest (Budapest is the result of joining two cities divided by the river, Buda and Pest). Quite different from Buda, where our hotel is, a lot of winding streets, with cafes and shops. A little quiet, but that is probably due to the fact that it is Sunday, and apparently no shops open up today.

Other than walk around, we didn’t really accomplish a great deal. We had some nice coffees and snacks at various places, walked through the old Jewish Ghetto (where the Jews were confined to during WWII). We’re not really sure what we are going to do tomorrow. We will have to study the guidebooks a little. We will probably pop into Vienna for a couple of days on our way back to Prague.

I’m currently sitting in a cabin on a train bound for Budapest. I’ve just been woken up by Hungarian Border Police, and had my passport stamped. First stamps in 3 weeks. Caren’s had a heap from all over the place, but no one seems to want to stamp mine.

There’s a couple of days to catch up, so I’ll quickly go through what’s been happening.

We left Carol and Marks house yesterday, after a fantastic week. After the flurry of activity on the first day, we didn’t do a great deal, other than go to New York. But that was actually just what we wanted. Very relaxing. So it was with a very heavy heart that we got onto the plane to London two nights ago.

A relatively horrid flight (smooth, but think of close encounters with a paper bag and you know what I mean), and an hour long bus ride to cover 3 Kms to the hotel, and we found ourselves in London. Rather than succumb to the sleep we craved, we decided to catch the train into Central London and have a bit of a poke around. The weather, was fairly typical for London. Grey skies, but not menacing.

Expecting the train to cost in the region of a car payment, we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was less than a fiver each. After about 45 minutes on the train we got to Piccadily Circus. We walked up the stairs from the Tube station and wouldn’t you know it, pouring down with rain.

Because I effectively hadn’t eaten for about 20 hours, we sought refuge in a Burger King, along with heaps of other people. One devoured lunch later we walked out, only to find that the rain had got heavier. We worked our way through the wet crowds of French tourists, found a bookstore and wasted an hour in there. We decided that we would go back to the hotel because the rain was too heavy.

On our way, it finally slowed up, so we went for a short walk to see if it would get better. Which it did, turning into quite a magnificent late afternoon, blue skies, bright crowds. So we got a chance to walk around, oohing and aahing appropriately, deciding that it was pretty good, but there is no way that we would want to live in London, unlike when we planned out our lives walking around Manhattan.

Back at the hotel we had another forgettable meal watching India beat Kenya (and that bastard Ganguly got a ton! Bah!) and had an early night before another big day’s travel.

A quick flight this morning and we were in Prague. The plan had originally been to spend the day in Praha, wandering around and to then catch the night train to Budapest. But neither of us felt up to that, so we got ourselves to the station for the afternoon train, after checking with our Budapest hotel that there was a room available.

The train was late by over an hour, and waiting on the platform was prety damn cold. So when the train turned up, we were glad to see it. We wandered down to the first class end (nothing but the best for us!), only to find that the carriage doors won’t open. “Hmmm.” We get onto the second class carriage, hoping to be able to walk through, but those doors won’t open either. A conductor ambles by and says “They are out of order”, not really seeming to care about it that much either. We grab a spare cabin in lowly second class (pretty good actually) and settle in for the 7 hour journey.

I spoke to an american who travels a lot in the area and he said that with Hungarian trains, if you get on one, and it’s going where you want to go, then count yourself lucky. Don’t ask questions about why things are missing, or why you can’t get into the first class carriage. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Which I have to say has been quite pleasant.

After mooching off Carol and Marc for almost a week, we decided that it was about time we did something. So, I decided to cook Kangaroo. After reassuring some horrified children that it was quite ok and that they wouldn’t die, I managed to find a butcher on the web that said that they sold it (along with Turtle .. I have the address if anyone is interested.) Carol said that it was in the Market District, and that we could do some more shopping in the area. That sounded pretty damn good to me, so off we went.

A short detour so I could meet up with a client (business trip expenses anyone?) and a trip though a less than salubrious neighbourhood, and then we were in a traditional italian american area. Think “The Godfather”, with the fruit stalls and everyone who knows everyone else. About 15 butchers, all specialising in different meats, pasta shops, spice stores, fruit carts etc.

After wandering for a while we went to the butcher to get the kangaroo, but as you would no doubt guess, they didn’t have any. It probably would have behoven me to make a quick phone call, but what are you going to do? So, it was going to be beef, but I wouldn’t tell anyone.

We left the markets, and back to the house. Many hours cooking, and then we all sat down. There were a couple of apprehensive faces, and a little picking at the food, until Sarah said “This tastes like beef!” and so the game was up.

Next time I will bring my own supply of roo.

This is kind of an amalgamation of days for this entry, because we’ve done some stuff, but have also done an enormous amount of sitting around, drinking tea and coffee and eating food cooked by other people. Pretty much what you’re supposed to do on holiday.

The main thing that we’ve done is to go to New York on Tuesday (4th March). We caught the local commuter trains (the suburbs of Philadelphia and outlying regions of New York and New Jersey almost run into each other) for about $40 each. About 2.5 hours each way, but a lot cheaper than the express which is about $120 each one way.

So we got into New York around 9:30, walked up the stairs from Penn Station, and, just as the last time we were here, were overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. Buildings buildings and more buildings everywhere. Along with thousands of people, all zipping around doing whatever they have to do. Rather than stand there gawking saying “I’m a tourist, come mug me,” we set off immediately, not really sure where we were headed, just sure that movement was necessary. We eventually got our bearings and headed north along 5th Avenue. Not long after this Caren says “Is that the Empire State?” At which I look up and go “Yep”.

We weren’t expecting it, but New York was actually the coldest we have been on the whole trip. There was a firm breeze, which was stunningly cold and went right through our clothes. Fortunately, the sun came out and started to have an effect. So by the end of the day we were actually quite comfortable.

We set out for the Guggenheim Museum, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. A swirling corkscrew like building it is truly spectacular. We went into the foyer and had a look up, and then set out again. Six hours in New York. Plenty to see.

A short walk through Central Park (very cold and desolate looking, with very little greenery ) and we found ourselves at the New York Museum. Another quick trip into the lobby, which was huge and spectacular, of course) and we were back on our way. We walked through the streets around here, looking at the marvellous buildings, and dreaming of the prospect of owning an apartment here. Average price for a 2 bedroom apartment … $1.6 million australian!!!!

We popped over to the United Nations, stopping along the way at one of the ubiquitous Starbucks … meh … but it didn’t look like anything was happening. No flags, and some crappy little protest about something. We were getting hungy by this stage so we hopped on the subway and headed into Little Italy.

Just like it is in the movies, lots of cobbled streets, more restaurants and pizza parlours than you could shake a sausage at. We had read about one pizza shop in particular. The place credited with developing the New York Pizza style and the oldest pizza shop in Manhattan. And man, what a pizza. Huuuuuuugggge (about 18-20 inches across), with real mozzerella and marvellous italian sausage. Yum. And some good italian beer to go with it.

Suitably sated, we set off, just wandering aimlessly, going through neighbourhoods we read about, Soho, Tribeca, Greenwich Village etc etc. All the while we were going “We could live here. It wouldn’t be so hard.” But of course, visiting somewhere with money to spend and eating in restaurants is quite different to living and paying bills and coping with enormous rents and shoebox apartments.

After wandering around for quite a while, it was time to hop back on the train, and away we went. Back to Philly.

After a days travelling from Stockholm to London to Philadelphia, we woke in Caren’s sister, Carol’s house. A magnificent 100 year old stone house, with more than enough rooms for the five children who normally live here. Of course, the entire Deem clan was here for what we had thought was a small family dinner, but what turned into a full on reception.

We spent last night showing photos to everyone and trying to explain cricket to bemused onlookers (though it must be said that Aussie Rules and Rugby Union garnered more interest … something about fit men running into each other must be universal!). Then, this morning we went of to Jimmy’s (one of Carol and Marc’s kids) ice hockey practice for a couple of hours. Very entertaining. It was for 10-12 year olds, but of course there is quite a big size difference in those ages, so some of the bigger kids were having a great time thumping into the little kids. Jimmy did a great job in defence, and stood up admirably to some larger kids. It was a lot easier to follow than the professional games, mainly because we could actually see the puck.

After getting back and warming up, we had to get ready for the photographer, who was there not only to photograph us, but to mark the occasion of a complete family reunion. Several changes of clothes later (into wedding outfits … out of wedding outfits … back into them for more shots) that was all done, and it was onto the reception.

We had been banned from the dining room for the day, and when the curtains were finally opened a magnificently decorated room, a table set for 16, white roses all around and a two tier wedding cake was there to greet us. Far more than we had ever imagined, it was a little overwhelming seeing the trouble that everyone had gone to. Having had a wedding in a hotel in sweden that was organised by someone else, and to then come to a reception in which all the work had been done by someone else, it was kind of like we were getting it easy. Which of course, we were.

The reception followed a fairly familiar format, with only minor differences to Australia. Not so big on speeches, and a tradition with little bells. (When someone rings the bell, the bride and groom have to kiss … which sounds lovely, but it gets a little tedious when the seven to ten year olds in the room keep ringing the bell constantly.

Many courses of magnificent food, perfectly matched with some great wines, followed: Prawn (Shrimp) Cocktail, Mushroom Soup, Poached Pear and Walnut Salad, Beef Fillet, Cheeses (including the orange American Cheddar … 64 slices of american cheese … mmmmmmm) and then the wedding cake for dessert. The wedding cake was a sponge cake. Apparently fruit cakes aren’t de rigeur, and are a bit of a jokey novelty at christmas time.

All in all a marvellous day, and our grateful thanks to Mary (Caren’s mom), Carol and Kathy (Caren’s other sister) for the work and effort they put in. Also thanks to Marc and Greg … (and to Beth’s boyfriend for helping cart the tables in, which I’m told where quite awkward and heavy.)

After a horrid nights sleep, due to this flu that I had, we both decided that we couldn’t face sleeping in the ice hotel tonight, and would far prefer to stay in our cosy little chalet. It’s not the cold so much, but the fact that because the hotel is open to the public during the day, you can’t go to your room until about 7 o’clock, which means you’re stuck walking around for about 8 hours after checking out of the chalet. And of course, a cold snap hit today, and it’s -10C. Not the weather for walking around with a flu.

Flu or no flu, however, very little was going to be keeping us away from the husky rides. We had seen them taking off over the past couple of days and so we were quite keen to have a go ourselves. We got down to the river pretty early, so we could watch them harnessing up. The dogs are transported in these little cages, and are taken out one by one and hooked up to the sled. The whole time they are barking and jumping around like crazy because all they want to do is run, and they can’t handle the wait. Erik, our heavily bearded guide, said that once they are all hooked up, you have to go pretty quickly because if they aren’t running, they start taking it out on the other dog next to them in the line.

So we climbed on, and off we went in a flurry of ice, dog crap and snow. Because they are working dogs, they are quite adept at running along at 20Kph and going to the toilet. Thankfully Caren and I were at the back of the sled for the first stage, so it was an english couple in front of us who bore the bulk of the assault. (And because they are fed 1 kilo of meat and dried fruits a day, it’s not a pretty sight.)

But apart from that, it was one of the best things that we’ve done. The dogs are just so happy to be running, that nothing else is an issue for them. If we stop, they just want to start again. Apparently they can pull 1000Kg for 60-80 kilometres a day. So they are pretty fit dogs.

Even though it was -10C, Erik said that it was probably too warm for them today. They have a really thick coat, with multiple layers, and prefer running in -40C to -20C. As they are running along, they occasionally bend down and grab a mouthful of snow .. kind of like a drink on the run.

We stopped for a coffee and some cake at a camp on the lake shore and all of the dogs started rolling around in the snow, just to cool down a little. We sat and had a chat to our guides about the dogs. They obviously love the dogs, but they are working animals, so they need to treat them accordingly, and never forget the basis of the relationship. Still, the dogs are well looked after, and get to run to their hearts content.