Okay, It's been a while. I was too busy flying and doing other things, that I forgot about this weblog. But rest assured, I'm going to give the wise words that you probably all expecte from me.
When I was in Prague, the second day, I stood on the sidewalk waiting for the light to turn green, and all of a sudden a smile got on my face and I laughed. I tried to cover it and not show it to the other people, but I couldn't stop lauging, because despite all the difficulties that came along with it - I had done it. I'd travelled around Europe, my all-time favourite continent, and seen a lot of what I'd always wanted to see. And I had done it by myself, made all the decisions, right or wrong, myself. And I returned safely home without so much as a scratch from a fall on an escelator in Budapest. That's why I laughed, I'd only realized this then. I thought that now I was in a position to be telling people 'That ain't working, that's the way te do it! Get your money for noth.......' (Don't know that song? You're missing out)
I had only three minor issues and one larger issue, in Berlin. This all may be sounding very selfish, but I'll be frank and say that I'm proud of myself. How many people of my age, and even how many people of any age, can say that they sat in Slovak en Czech police stations awaiting their 'Justice', nearly jumped in a driving train in Paris, heared two Austrian gothics having the time of their life above my bed in Berlin, but most of all, has seen almost all major European cities that have a history to them.
Summarizing it all, I've been to Berlin, Paris, Innsbruck, Munich, Ljubljana, Zagreb, Bratislava, Budapest and Prague. And please, everyone realize, I travelled around 25000 km in total and only left the European Union once. Europe is certainly not what it used to be, fortunately for a large part and for another large part very unfortunately. It won't change my support for the Union, but I've got to say I'd have liked having stamps for every country (I have about 5 stamps now), have every officer check my passport and visa, and paying in another currency every 2 days. But that's just not the way it is, and, as I said, that makes me happy yet sad.
I love to travel, and by this journey I realized even more it's my other hobby, next to flying. About flying... I went to the airfield again this weekend and made one long flight, 45 minutes, which was only limited by the size of my bladder that had recently been filled with water. Once I took off I immediately climbed to just over 1 km altitude, and was at the surface of the clouds, severely enjoying myself cloudsurfing (a popular thing amongst pilots). I returned with a perfect arrival route followed by a perfect landing, which was followed by a swift opening of the 'door', running as fast as I could to the ditch and having the most incredible piss ever. (Men, you'll know what I'm talking about) You think you can't hold it in any longer, but when you're focused on such a thing as flying airplanes, your bladder is larger than you think. You just have to get out asap when you land.
I'm going off topic, back to business. I can talk about Europe, it's history and it's present, for ages, but I'll cut it off here. I didn't tear down a part of the Berlin wall, when I'm in Amsterdam I don't eat any spacecake or smoke any joints, I didn't make love all night to a beautiful French girl on rooftops in the Moulin Rouge, I didn't go skiïng in the Alps (I have done so, just not this trip...) and so many things that are typical for a country, I did not do. But I still saw the people and their cities, be it good or bad, beautiful or ugly. As a European you don't see Europe the way, for say, Americans or Australians do, but we all still call it Europe and we all secretly or less secretly consider it ours. And to see nearly all of it, is something any European, if not every human being, has to have done. But then again I dislike other tourists, so let's keep Europe my very own little continent, just sort of shared with 709,608,850 other inhabitants.
This is the end of this weblog, there will be no more posts, but maybe one day I'll bundle it all together in a small book, or translate it into Dutch.
I hope everyone who has been reading this weblog liked what they read, and maybe even learned something from it. I've gained uninmaginable amounts of knowledge on this trip, and I'd be glad if even a part of it has reached any readers, please do accept these 'wise words' from a 16 year old adolescent snotneus.
Byron Sterk
maandag 27 augustus 2007
donderdag 23 augustus 2007
Day 12
So... this is it then.
Let's not start with the 'this is the end', but start with the beginning of the end. My last day on this journey, my last day in Prague, and my first day back into society.
I left my hotel in a bit of a hurry, because I only had 4 á 5 hours to see the rest of Prague. And there was so much more I wanted to see... and I still didn't see it all. The same goes for almost all the other cities and places I've been (where does this street lead to? If I take this bus where will it take me?) Except for Paris maybe, I've seen it all.
I put my luggage in a locket at the central train station and rushed to find the Bodies exhibition. It was found after a brief search in the centre, that also lead me to a nice kebab place where I had the most delicious Döner Kebap in weeks (just plain sheep meat on a sandwich with garlic sauce and lettice, and maybe some excotic herbs.. hmm.) When I finished it I bought me a ticket for the exhibition and put my moral questions about it aside, and went in. I warn you: If you, like my mother, are not quite so comfortable with rather grose descriptions of not so human things, don't read the next paragraphs.
First of all they had a sign saying that all the 'specimen' on show were real. This is what really shocked me: Everywhere, these men and women's body parts were referred to as specimen. Even the complete bodies were called specimen. It would have at least been of some dignity to display their names, and at the very least call them by what they are, not used to be, humans. They may be dead, and may never walk or see or think again, but they're still humans with a name and a family.
The first room was full of everything that had to do with muscle. Complete muscles, parts of them, cut-outs, slices, everything that had to do with muscles was displayed. Actually the same as other rooms: The bones room was full of bones, skulls and everyhing that had to do with them. I once again warn you, if you are easily shocked don't read this.
And children. There were actually babies there, shown in all ways. Skulls, muscle, skin, vessels, everythig. Even embryo's. Of everything there it shocked me the most, to see a dead baby under a glass window, carefully opened for the world to see. Some other things on the show including eyes cut open, the complete human skin laid on a table (it looked just like leather), a complete vein and vessel system (They filled up the vessels and veins with a red fluid that set, and the rest of the body was removed for other displays, leaving a complete visualisation of our blood system), hears, breasts, testicles cut open (you could see all the men grasping their own business, I for one could not look at this for more that 5 seconds..) and much, much more.
And still everything was referred to as specimen. 'This specimen shows how your leg muscles positions themselves when you run', even the babies. And I saw only one woman, the rest were men. One could clearly see that these people were chinese - you just had to look at their faces. I couldn't look at a face, without thinking that this person once thought and walked, and had probably not lived a plesant life.
I think there may be people just seeing these 'specimen' as what they really are - body parts. But I tend to see them as parts of a human, and this is what makes me actually regret that I visited this exhibiton. Everything was mighty interesting: I stood flabbergasted looking at how complex the human body is. I just don't think it's enough to compensate for the, in my eyes, immorality of the whole exhibiton. At the end there was a small sign saying that these 'specimen' (Yes, they were still referred to as specimen) were treated with the dignity and respect they deserve, and there was a book there that people could sign to pay their respects to these people. (I did so too, and left a big message as well.. probably never read by anyone but it's about the thought)
I left with mixed feelings, this is not an exhibition you can enjoy, it's merely one to amaze you.
After that I went for a stroll to the west side of the city, and I was so happy that I'd gotten me a plane ticket, because I could still see this. I won't give a description, but it was absolutely beautiful. That's what made Prague the most beautiful city in my trip: It's pure gorgeousness. Prague is a beautiful city, and it hasn't been ruined by the western influences as much as cities like Bratislava or Budapest.
I walked for hours around the city and saw too much to be describing here. When all other people took a straight street to the subway, I took a small sidestreet and strumbled across yet another beautiful sight. Too much to describe.
The time had come for me to make my way to the airport, so I got my bag and hopped on the metro to the last station. From there, you have to take a bus for 20 minutes and that brings you to the airport, why not just extend the metro line 5 kilometres!?
I love airports. Everyone hates them, and sees them as just a terminal, but I think there's something charming about them. Maybe it's the departure/arrival signs, maybe it's the travellers, or maybe, and most likely, it's just the airplanes. Need I say more?
I spent my 1.5 hours to wait for my boarding with strolling around the airport, watching the people go by and watching the airplanes come and go, untill it was time for me to go.
A bus took me to a Boeing 737-500, a really cute airplane, and I had asked for a window seat near the emergency exit. This gives you more leg room, but also some responsibility. The cabin attentants give you a special instruction on what to do in case of emergency. These seats are the best seats in the house except for the 2 cockpit seats. They have a great view of the wing: the most interesting part to watch during the flight.
Whenever I'm on a (commercial) airplane I'm like a 10 year old all over again. It keeps fascinating me, no matter how many times I do it and no matter how much I know of airplanes. We took off and I got a beer and a sandwich free of charge (at least the Czech state airline still have some class). Well, free of charge? I'dd paid 125,- euro for them fo fly me to Amsterdam, I'd expect a complete dinner with sexy stewardesses and a footrest at the very least.
When we'd landed in Amsterdam I got up as the last passenger and kindly asked if I could make a picture of the cockpit, and I had a nice conversation with the pilots about glider aviation and, well, just aviation. I left, satisfied, and walked through the gate and found out the door was already closed. So I waited for 4 minutes for someone to come by and open it for me, saying sorry sorry sorry I thought they'd all gotten out... but it didn't matter. I crave any second I can stay longer at my favourite airport: Amsterdam Schiphol.
My dad picked me up and drove me home, where I'm writing this now. So this voyage of experiences and adventures has come to an end, but I'll be posting my last message tomorrow, and that'll also be the last message I post. I'm going to miss it, really.
Byron
Let's not start with the 'this is the end', but start with the beginning of the end. My last day on this journey, my last day in Prague, and my first day back into society.
I left my hotel in a bit of a hurry, because I only had 4 á 5 hours to see the rest of Prague. And there was so much more I wanted to see... and I still didn't see it all. The same goes for almost all the other cities and places I've been (where does this street lead to? If I take this bus where will it take me?) Except for Paris maybe, I've seen it all.
I put my luggage in a locket at the central train station and rushed to find the Bodies exhibition. It was found after a brief search in the centre, that also lead me to a nice kebab place where I had the most delicious Döner Kebap in weeks (just plain sheep meat on a sandwich with garlic sauce and lettice, and maybe some excotic herbs.. hmm.) When I finished it I bought me a ticket for the exhibition and put my moral questions about it aside, and went in. I warn you: If you, like my mother, are not quite so comfortable with rather grose descriptions of not so human things, don't read the next paragraphs.
First of all they had a sign saying that all the 'specimen' on show were real. This is what really shocked me: Everywhere, these men and women's body parts were referred to as specimen. Even the complete bodies were called specimen. It would have at least been of some dignity to display their names, and at the very least call them by what they are, not used to be, humans. They may be dead, and may never walk or see or think again, but they're still humans with a name and a family.
The first room was full of everything that had to do with muscle. Complete muscles, parts of them, cut-outs, slices, everything that had to do with muscles was displayed. Actually the same as other rooms: The bones room was full of bones, skulls and everyhing that had to do with them. I once again warn you, if you are easily shocked don't read this.
And children. There were actually babies there, shown in all ways. Skulls, muscle, skin, vessels, everythig. Even embryo's. Of everything there it shocked me the most, to see a dead baby under a glass window, carefully opened for the world to see. Some other things on the show including eyes cut open, the complete human skin laid on a table (it looked just like leather), a complete vein and vessel system (They filled up the vessels and veins with a red fluid that set, and the rest of the body was removed for other displays, leaving a complete visualisation of our blood system), hears, breasts, testicles cut open (you could see all the men grasping their own business, I for one could not look at this for more that 5 seconds..) and much, much more.
And still everything was referred to as specimen. 'This specimen shows how your leg muscles positions themselves when you run', even the babies. And I saw only one woman, the rest were men. One could clearly see that these people were chinese - you just had to look at their faces. I couldn't look at a face, without thinking that this person once thought and walked, and had probably not lived a plesant life.
I think there may be people just seeing these 'specimen' as what they really are - body parts. But I tend to see them as parts of a human, and this is what makes me actually regret that I visited this exhibiton. Everything was mighty interesting: I stood flabbergasted looking at how complex the human body is. I just don't think it's enough to compensate for the, in my eyes, immorality of the whole exhibiton. At the end there was a small sign saying that these 'specimen' (Yes, they were still referred to as specimen) were treated with the dignity and respect they deserve, and there was a book there that people could sign to pay their respects to these people. (I did so too, and left a big message as well.. probably never read by anyone but it's about the thought)
I left with mixed feelings, this is not an exhibition you can enjoy, it's merely one to amaze you.
After that I went for a stroll to the west side of the city, and I was so happy that I'd gotten me a plane ticket, because I could still see this. I won't give a description, but it was absolutely beautiful. That's what made Prague the most beautiful city in my trip: It's pure gorgeousness. Prague is a beautiful city, and it hasn't been ruined by the western influences as much as cities like Bratislava or Budapest.
I walked for hours around the city and saw too much to be describing here. When all other people took a straight street to the subway, I took a small sidestreet and strumbled across yet another beautiful sight. Too much to describe.
The time had come for me to make my way to the airport, so I got my bag and hopped on the metro to the last station. From there, you have to take a bus for 20 minutes and that brings you to the airport, why not just extend the metro line 5 kilometres!?
I love airports. Everyone hates them, and sees them as just a terminal, but I think there's something charming about them. Maybe it's the departure/arrival signs, maybe it's the travellers, or maybe, and most likely, it's just the airplanes. Need I say more?
I spent my 1.5 hours to wait for my boarding with strolling around the airport, watching the people go by and watching the airplanes come and go, untill it was time for me to go.
A bus took me to a Boeing 737-500, a really cute airplane, and I had asked for a window seat near the emergency exit. This gives you more leg room, but also some responsibility. The cabin attentants give you a special instruction on what to do in case of emergency. These seats are the best seats in the house except for the 2 cockpit seats. They have a great view of the wing: the most interesting part to watch during the flight.
Whenever I'm on a (commercial) airplane I'm like a 10 year old all over again. It keeps fascinating me, no matter how many times I do it and no matter how much I know of airplanes. We took off and I got a beer and a sandwich free of charge (at least the Czech state airline still have some class). Well, free of charge? I'dd paid 125,- euro for them fo fly me to Amsterdam, I'd expect a complete dinner with sexy stewardesses and a footrest at the very least.
When we'd landed in Amsterdam I got up as the last passenger and kindly asked if I could make a picture of the cockpit, and I had a nice conversation with the pilots about glider aviation and, well, just aviation. I left, satisfied, and walked through the gate and found out the door was already closed. So I waited for 4 minutes for someone to come by and open it for me, saying sorry sorry sorry I thought they'd all gotten out... but it didn't matter. I crave any second I can stay longer at my favourite airport: Amsterdam Schiphol.
My dad picked me up and drove me home, where I'm writing this now. So this voyage of experiences and adventures has come to an end, but I'll be posting my last message tomorrow, and that'll also be the last message I post. I'm going to miss it, really.
Byron
woensdag 22 augustus 2007
Day 11
Hi all,
Instead of posting two messages I decided to put them both into one, so this contains two messages.
First one:
I woke up at 10:00 and took ik real easy. I'd placed the don't disturb sign on the door the night before, so I was assured of a quiet and peaceful morning. I went to the train station to buy my ticket to Amsterdam, and I had the same gothic girl as yesterday.. oh no!! Please make this fast and painless...
It wasn't that fast and it certainly wasn't painless, when I found out the fare was 130,- euro's. 130 euro!!! I might as well take an airplane!!! But no, I have to pay 130 euro for one way, 13 hours in second class. That's just the way it is, things will never be the same....
So I reluctantly gave the gothic 3900 Czech Crowns and made my way to the city, feeling sorry for my 130,- euro.
In the city one thing first caught my eyes: the amount of commercials here. It's like NYC. Pragu is a beautiful city, but I can only imagine how much more beautiful it would be without all these western influences. No commercials, no rubbish on the street (Streets 17 years ago were actually cleaner, so I have heard). I wonder...
Suddenly I remember some things I wanted to post: In Bratislava I was transported from the station to my hostel by something they called a Novy Autobusy (new bus). This was something that in Holland they would've sent to a museum 50 years ago... and absolutely everything in Bratislava was old. Older than the rest of the former Warsawpact countries. I can only wonder why... but it seemed as if Bratislava was less developed than the rest, even than Zagreb (Not a Warsawpact country, but anyways.)
Whilst I'm talking to my friend Bart on the MSN now, I found out that I can fly from Prague to Amsterdam for 125,- euro, so I'm going out in a rush to cancel my train ticket and book that airplane ticket.
Second one:
Okay, thank god! I won't have to spend 13 hours in the train. Eventually, I ended up paying 10 percent of the train fare to cancel it, so in the end the airplane was cheaper. But time is money, and instead of 13 hours the airplane takes only 2. This doesn't take away my feeling sorry for the 130,- euro's...
So, tomorrow I'll be flying from Prague to Amsterdam at 18:50, which gives me another day in Prague. I was thinking maybe I could visit the 'Bodies' exhibition, somthing that I previously wouldn't go to. Why? It's questionable if the people displays there actually gave permission to have their bodies exhibitioned, they're most likely to be poor Chinese people. I found this rather cruel and when the exhibition was in Amsterdam I didn't go there, but I'm reconsidering. I can always leave if I still get doubts.
For those of you who don't know what this exhibition is: look it up under google. Not for the faint hearted.
I have to get out of this internetcafe now, but you'll hear from me.
Byron
Instead of posting two messages I decided to put them both into one, so this contains two messages.
First one:
I woke up at 10:00 and took ik real easy. I'd placed the don't disturb sign on the door the night before, so I was assured of a quiet and peaceful morning. I went to the train station to buy my ticket to Amsterdam, and I had the same gothic girl as yesterday.. oh no!! Please make this fast and painless...
It wasn't that fast and it certainly wasn't painless, when I found out the fare was 130,- euro's. 130 euro!!! I might as well take an airplane!!! But no, I have to pay 130 euro for one way, 13 hours in second class. That's just the way it is, things will never be the same....
So I reluctantly gave the gothic 3900 Czech Crowns and made my way to the city, feeling sorry for my 130,- euro.
In the city one thing first caught my eyes: the amount of commercials here. It's like NYC. Pragu is a beautiful city, but I can only imagine how much more beautiful it would be without all these western influences. No commercials, no rubbish on the street (Streets 17 years ago were actually cleaner, so I have heard). I wonder...
Suddenly I remember some things I wanted to post: In Bratislava I was transported from the station to my hostel by something they called a Novy Autobusy (new bus). This was something that in Holland they would've sent to a museum 50 years ago... and absolutely everything in Bratislava was old. Older than the rest of the former Warsawpact countries. I can only wonder why... but it seemed as if Bratislava was less developed than the rest, even than Zagreb (Not a Warsawpact country, but anyways.)
Whilst I'm talking to my friend Bart on the MSN now, I found out that I can fly from Prague to Amsterdam for 125,- euro, so I'm going out in a rush to cancel my train ticket and book that airplane ticket.
Second one:
Okay, thank god! I won't have to spend 13 hours in the train. Eventually, I ended up paying 10 percent of the train fare to cancel it, so in the end the airplane was cheaper. But time is money, and instead of 13 hours the airplane takes only 2. This doesn't take away my feeling sorry for the 130,- euro's...
So, tomorrow I'll be flying from Prague to Amsterdam at 18:50, which gives me another day in Prague. I was thinking maybe I could visit the 'Bodies' exhibition, somthing that I previously wouldn't go to. Why? It's questionable if the people displays there actually gave permission to have their bodies exhibitioned, they're most likely to be poor Chinese people. I found this rather cruel and when the exhibition was in Amsterdam I didn't go there, but I'm reconsidering. I can always leave if I still get doubts.
For those of you who don't know what this exhibition is: look it up under google. Not for the faint hearted.
I have to get out of this internetcafe now, but you'll hear from me.
Byron
dinsdag 21 augustus 2007
Day 10
Well I'm not going to tell you what Prague is like just yet, because so far I've only seen a train station, a police station, several metro stations and the Dutch embassy. I was going to start this post with a completely different title: Game Over. But after careful consideration and some peptalk I decided not to.
Why Byron! Why!
I'll tell you why, but first you can read about the first part of my day.
I got up at 8, which is the earliest I've gotten up since my 6:00 am in Paris, when I missed my train. There's just something about trains, or maybe their schedules, that makes people rise at the crack of dawn. The two English youngmen would join me on this journey to Prague, I'd made a reservation, but they decided that they'd see if there were available seats. So we walked to the metro station, got some tickets, and forgot to punch them, as we found out in the metro. Well, not so big a deal we thought, until we got to the train station and we were stopped by a ticket controller. She asked us for our tickets, and we thoughtfully handed them over. She nodded her head so fast that if you'd put a lightbulb in her ears it'd shine brighter than ever before. She started talking to us in Hungarian (Ignoring the fact that we, 3 English speaking people with backpacks probably would not speak any Hungarian) and we attempted to look confused, saying: 'English?'
She vaguely said that we had to punch our tickets and showed us how to do so. After 5 minutes we were (thoughtfully) informed that the fine was 5000 HUF. (about 30 Euro's). We had (really!) absolutely no money with us except euro's. I had a 1000 HUF note and handed it over, well I didn't hand it over, she just grasped it out of my hand. After 2 more minutes she'd gathered 5000 HUF and kept on nodding her head, asking us is we maybe had Euro's. We had shitloads of Euro's with us but were smart enough not to tell her so.
We were pointing to our watches and trying to explain we had only 10 minutes left, and she said that just 10000 for the three of us would do. Here's an official ticket controller haggling with tourists about a fine. After some haggling she suddenly let us go, and we were absolutely convinced that this money would not be seen anywhere other than in her pocket...
We got on the train and commenced on a relatively uneventful 8 hour journey to Prague. Uneventful, up to the last seconds. You'll find out why later on. Me and the English youngmen said goodbye to each other and I went to look for my hotel, which I found half an hour later. When I checked in I got a cold feeling all over me and felt as if a dementor had sucked all life out of me: I had left my wallet in the train.
Thank God, all my real valuables were in my moneybelt, but all my Euro's, my ABN Amro card, my driver's license and God knows what else, was in my wallet. Why did I need the wallet? The train staff only accepted Euro's for their ticket fines... That's a joke. They only accepted Euro's for the warm can of coke that I'd bought. I freaked and immediately went on the internet to look for lost and found departments of just about anything. I'll spare you the details.
So far it really wasn't a big problem, I would just have to cancel the bank card and apply for another driver's license. But when on toilets people tend to remember things they usually don't - and in this case I remembred that my Interrail ticket was also still on the train. I panicked so fast that the shit was shooting out of my ass like a continuous bullet, and once again I'll spare you all the details. I called my parents, got some peptalk, and went to the station for more information. There I encountered somthing that did not satisfy me: A female gothic was on shift for the information desk that day. So I gathered all my courage and explained my situation to her. She spit out her chewing gum and told me to go to the international ticket office. There I encountred what seemed to be her boss: When I explained her my situation she got quite angry at the gothic, who then led me to 5,493 miles of corridor to another boss and asked her what to do next. The boss told her that my train was over the German border by now, and there was nothing they could do.
So I went to the police station and had them write an official document of my issue for my insurance. (That is, after several attempts of communication and saying 'Dokument') When I sat in the interiogation room (Yes, those rooms with one side see-through windows and nothing but a chair and a table, I've always wondered what they actually looked like) filling out my document I realized that my passport was also on the train.
Oh no!!! @(#*_)$*(#^!!!!!!!!!
After 10 minutes of panicking and receiving the Dokument, I went to the Dutch embassy to find out that they were closed, and I borrowed the cellphone from a Czech (very kind) and called the ambassador. (How many people can say they sat in an interrogation room and spoke to the Dutch Ambassador 30 minutes later?) He told me to take it easy and come back tomorrow morning, not all was lost.
On my way back to the hostel I strumbled across an internet cafe and asked them if I could make an international phone call, which I could. I called my mom and dad, and received some soothing peptalk, after which I went back to the hotel. When I was sitting in the subway I realized that I really didn't leave my passport on the train, but the hotel staff had taken it as an insurance that I'd pay my bill!!! Thank god!! So at least I got my identity back.
When I was with that feeling that I had absolutely no proof of identity, I suddenly thought of a classmate of mine: Besfort Muslija. He's a refugee from Yugoslavia, and had absolutely no nationality, just a Dutch 'Green Card', and I figured that my situation really wasn't that bad... If I wanted I could even apply for the Irish nationality, he can't even get out of the Schengen countries.
Anyways, I'm back in the hotel now with a alcohol free beer (drinking age is 18 here) and a computer. And now that you've heard the whole story, I'm gonna call my mom and dad to tell them my passport isn't lost.
Byron
Why Byron! Why!
I'll tell you why, but first you can read about the first part of my day.
I got up at 8, which is the earliest I've gotten up since my 6:00 am in Paris, when I missed my train. There's just something about trains, or maybe their schedules, that makes people rise at the crack of dawn. The two English youngmen would join me on this journey to Prague, I'd made a reservation, but they decided that they'd see if there were available seats. So we walked to the metro station, got some tickets, and forgot to punch them, as we found out in the metro. Well, not so big a deal we thought, until we got to the train station and we were stopped by a ticket controller. She asked us for our tickets, and we thoughtfully handed them over. She nodded her head so fast that if you'd put a lightbulb in her ears it'd shine brighter than ever before. She started talking to us in Hungarian (Ignoring the fact that we, 3 English speaking people with backpacks probably would not speak any Hungarian) and we attempted to look confused, saying: 'English?'
She vaguely said that we had to punch our tickets and showed us how to do so. After 5 minutes we were (thoughtfully) informed that the fine was 5000 HUF. (about 30 Euro's). We had (really!) absolutely no money with us except euro's. I had a 1000 HUF note and handed it over, well I didn't hand it over, she just grasped it out of my hand. After 2 more minutes she'd gathered 5000 HUF and kept on nodding her head, asking us is we maybe had Euro's. We had shitloads of Euro's with us but were smart enough not to tell her so.
We were pointing to our watches and trying to explain we had only 10 minutes left, and she said that just 10000 for the three of us would do. Here's an official ticket controller haggling with tourists about a fine. After some haggling she suddenly let us go, and we were absolutely convinced that this money would not be seen anywhere other than in her pocket...
We got on the train and commenced on a relatively uneventful 8 hour journey to Prague. Uneventful, up to the last seconds. You'll find out why later on. Me and the English youngmen said goodbye to each other and I went to look for my hotel, which I found half an hour later. When I checked in I got a cold feeling all over me and felt as if a dementor had sucked all life out of me: I had left my wallet in the train.
Thank God, all my real valuables were in my moneybelt, but all my Euro's, my ABN Amro card, my driver's license and God knows what else, was in my wallet. Why did I need the wallet? The train staff only accepted Euro's for their ticket fines... That's a joke. They only accepted Euro's for the warm can of coke that I'd bought. I freaked and immediately went on the internet to look for lost and found departments of just about anything. I'll spare you the details.
So far it really wasn't a big problem, I would just have to cancel the bank card and apply for another driver's license. But when on toilets people tend to remember things they usually don't - and in this case I remembred that my Interrail ticket was also still on the train. I panicked so fast that the shit was shooting out of my ass like a continuous bullet, and once again I'll spare you all the details. I called my parents, got some peptalk, and went to the station for more information. There I encountered somthing that did not satisfy me: A female gothic was on shift for the information desk that day. So I gathered all my courage and explained my situation to her. She spit out her chewing gum and told me to go to the international ticket office. There I encountred what seemed to be her boss: When I explained her my situation she got quite angry at the gothic, who then led me to 5,493 miles of corridor to another boss and asked her what to do next. The boss told her that my train was over the German border by now, and there was nothing they could do.
So I went to the police station and had them write an official document of my issue for my insurance. (That is, after several attempts of communication and saying 'Dokument') When I sat in the interiogation room (Yes, those rooms with one side see-through windows and nothing but a chair and a table, I've always wondered what they actually looked like) filling out my document I realized that my passport was also on the train.
Oh no!!! @(#*_)$*(#^!!!!!!!!!
After 10 minutes of panicking and receiving the Dokument, I went to the Dutch embassy to find out that they were closed, and I borrowed the cellphone from a Czech (very kind) and called the ambassador. (How many people can say they sat in an interrogation room and spoke to the Dutch Ambassador 30 minutes later?) He told me to take it easy and come back tomorrow morning, not all was lost.
On my way back to the hostel I strumbled across an internet cafe and asked them if I could make an international phone call, which I could. I called my mom and dad, and received some soothing peptalk, after which I went back to the hotel. When I was sitting in the subway I realized that I really didn't leave my passport on the train, but the hotel staff had taken it as an insurance that I'd pay my bill!!! Thank god!! So at least I got my identity back.
When I was with that feeling that I had absolutely no proof of identity, I suddenly thought of a classmate of mine: Besfort Muslija. He's a refugee from Yugoslavia, and had absolutely no nationality, just a Dutch 'Green Card', and I figured that my situation really wasn't that bad... If I wanted I could even apply for the Irish nationality, he can't even get out of the Schengen countries.
Anyways, I'm back in the hotel now with a alcohol free beer (drinking age is 18 here) and a computer. And now that you've heard the whole story, I'm gonna call my mom and dad to tell them my passport isn't lost.
Byron
maandag 20 augustus 2007
Day 9 - Part 2
I'm back,
I went in to an internet cafe to wait for the rain to stop, and when I got out it actually had stopped (unlike all my expectations). Everyone was running towards the river so I guessed the fireworks were about to start, and I went to the hostel to get my camera. I went to the fireworks with two English roommates, and this was unlike anything I'd ever seen back home. In Holland fireworks at new years eve is a big uncoordinated mess. But here, it was beautiful. Everything was synchronized and the fireworks were larger and louder. I really can't describe it, but I've got it on picture and video, so you can all see it when I get home.
About home: I think my best option is to be home tuesday night instead of friday, when my card expires. First of all, my school has come up with one of the most stupid things they have come up with so far. Instead of using the monday for the students to collect their books, as it has always been for years, they've decided to use the friday before. So everyone who's on holiday has to get home early to get their books for the next week at the break of dawn. Second reason is that my sister is unable (and other sister, as it seems) to get the books for me. Third reason is that my mom will be gone on friday, and last but not least, I'll want to go to the glider airfield on saturday, I haven't flown in about a month and I'm in desperate need of a pair of wings and a tail.
So tomorrow I'll take the the IC to Prague, that'll take all day, and in Prague I'll have my own room. Next day I'll be exploring Prague and the day after that I'll take the train back to Amsterdam, for 9 hours of sleep and then I'll have to go to school, something right now I really don't even want to think about..
I'm going to take a shower and finish my book,
Byron
I went in to an internet cafe to wait for the rain to stop, and when I got out it actually had stopped (unlike all my expectations). Everyone was running towards the river so I guessed the fireworks were about to start, and I went to the hostel to get my camera. I went to the fireworks with two English roommates, and this was unlike anything I'd ever seen back home. In Holland fireworks at new years eve is a big uncoordinated mess. But here, it was beautiful. Everything was synchronized and the fireworks were larger and louder. I really can't describe it, but I've got it on picture and video, so you can all see it when I get home.
About home: I think my best option is to be home tuesday night instead of friday, when my card expires. First of all, my school has come up with one of the most stupid things they have come up with so far. Instead of using the monday for the students to collect their books, as it has always been for years, they've decided to use the friday before. So everyone who's on holiday has to get home early to get their books for the next week at the break of dawn. Second reason is that my sister is unable (and other sister, as it seems) to get the books for me. Third reason is that my mom will be gone on friday, and last but not least, I'll want to go to the glider airfield on saturday, I haven't flown in about a month and I'm in desperate need of a pair of wings and a tail.
So tomorrow I'll take the the IC to Prague, that'll take all day, and in Prague I'll have my own room. Next day I'll be exploring Prague and the day after that I'll take the train back to Amsterdam, for 9 hours of sleep and then I'll have to go to school, something right now I really don't even want to think about..
I'm going to take a shower and finish my book,
Byron
Day 9
Hi all!
This hostel is nice, but certainly not what it was advertised as. People are smoking everywhere (I quote from the ad: 'If you are a smoker, we have absolutely no facilities for you') and this is not really orientated towards the solo traveller. But this is a good enough place to sleep, but I'll be happy when I've got my very own room in Prague.
About today, I got up at 10 and went straight to the train station to make a (mandatory) reservation for tomorrow's intercity to prague. Yesterday I read in a folder that there was a park outside Budapest that has all the old communist statues, brought there after they'd been removed from the city. The route description was rather vague, but I gave it a try. The folder told me to take bus 9 red to some square, and like magic a red bus with a 9 came strumbling into the station. When I got in I realized that this bus was probably red because of all the people it'd killed, judging by the driver's driving style. He drove aggressively but one thing that I noticed in particular (I had a clear view of him) was that it took him 5 seconds to change gears (I counted it.) That may not seem much but you count to 5 now and realize.. Even worse, he looked at the stick for the complete 5 seconds to confirm that he was in the right gear, before he could hardly clutch again because of all the speed he'd lost in these 5 seconds. But that was just his way of doing it...
15 minutes later it turned out that this was not the the red bus 9, but the regular one. The red one would have a red circle around the 9.... the driver of another bus told me. I asked him where I could transfer to the actual red bus 9 and he told me to get on his bus and he'd tell me when to get off. So 15 minutes later he called me towards his seat and gave me instructions on how to get the red bus, to the frustration of all other passengers on the bus. I got out and apparently I was walking the wrong way, because he got out of the bus (!!) and showed me the correct way. I felt really embarassed (Is that the right way to spell it?) but eventualy I got to the park, not larger than a soccer field but impressive, in a way. When I made my way to the exit I saw a beautiful pocket watch (the ones you have to wind up) with the soviet logo on it and cyrillic letters commemorating to the soviet part of the allied forces in WW2. I have something for these things, and I saw it cost 11800 stuffy. I figured that since the enterance fee was 2000 stuffy it wasn't much. Only when I got back to the hostel did I realize I had just bought me a 50 euro souvenir... and all of a sudden it wasn't that pretty anymore... At least I can always sell it when I get back home, probably even with some profit.
When I was in the red bus on the way back we had to get out right before the bridge across the river, because it was closed for the fireworks tonight. Turns out all (Yes, every single one!!) of the bridges were closed, and my only ticket to the other side was a metro line 4 kilometers down the road, walking in opposite direction of the HUGE flow of people going east for some reason. Eventually, I made it, and when I got out of the metro it was thundering and raining (when I got in the sun was shining). So I ran to the hostel and here I am.
I'll have a shower now and then, provided the weather has improven, I'll go into the city again. Everything is closed (national holiday) but I've been to Budapest before, so it's not really an issue. Oh and I forgot - I didn't really see much of the airshow, but it was nice for what I saw.
Come to think of it it aint gonna stop raining here for some time.. so I better find me an umbrella.
Maybe I'll be posting again tonight, so you'll hear from me.
Byron.
This hostel is nice, but certainly not what it was advertised as. People are smoking everywhere (I quote from the ad: 'If you are a smoker, we have absolutely no facilities for you') and this is not really orientated towards the solo traveller. But this is a good enough place to sleep, but I'll be happy when I've got my very own room in Prague.
About today, I got up at 10 and went straight to the train station to make a (mandatory) reservation for tomorrow's intercity to prague. Yesterday I read in a folder that there was a park outside Budapest that has all the old communist statues, brought there after they'd been removed from the city. The route description was rather vague, but I gave it a try. The folder told me to take bus 9 red to some square, and like magic a red bus with a 9 came strumbling into the station. When I got in I realized that this bus was probably red because of all the people it'd killed, judging by the driver's driving style. He drove aggressively but one thing that I noticed in particular (I had a clear view of him) was that it took him 5 seconds to change gears (I counted it.) That may not seem much but you count to 5 now and realize.. Even worse, he looked at the stick for the complete 5 seconds to confirm that he was in the right gear, before he could hardly clutch again because of all the speed he'd lost in these 5 seconds. But that was just his way of doing it...
15 minutes later it turned out that this was not the the red bus 9, but the regular one. The red one would have a red circle around the 9.... the driver of another bus told me. I asked him where I could transfer to the actual red bus 9 and he told me to get on his bus and he'd tell me when to get off. So 15 minutes later he called me towards his seat and gave me instructions on how to get the red bus, to the frustration of all other passengers on the bus. I got out and apparently I was walking the wrong way, because he got out of the bus (!!) and showed me the correct way. I felt really embarassed (Is that the right way to spell it?) but eventualy I got to the park, not larger than a soccer field but impressive, in a way. When I made my way to the exit I saw a beautiful pocket watch (the ones you have to wind up) with the soviet logo on it and cyrillic letters commemorating to the soviet part of the allied forces in WW2. I have something for these things, and I saw it cost 11800 stuffy. I figured that since the enterance fee was 2000 stuffy it wasn't much. Only when I got back to the hostel did I realize I had just bought me a 50 euro souvenir... and all of a sudden it wasn't that pretty anymore... At least I can always sell it when I get back home, probably even with some profit.
When I was in the red bus on the way back we had to get out right before the bridge across the river, because it was closed for the fireworks tonight. Turns out all (Yes, every single one!!) of the bridges were closed, and my only ticket to the other side was a metro line 4 kilometers down the road, walking in opposite direction of the HUGE flow of people going east for some reason. Eventually, I made it, and when I got out of the metro it was thundering and raining (when I got in the sun was shining). So I ran to the hostel and here I am.
I'll have a shower now and then, provided the weather has improven, I'll go into the city again. Everything is closed (national holiday) but I've been to Budapest before, so it's not really an issue. Oh and I forgot - I didn't really see much of the airshow, but it was nice for what I saw.
Come to think of it it aint gonna stop raining here for some time.. so I better find me an umbrella.
Maybe I'll be posting again tonight, so you'll hear from me.
Byron.
zondag 19 augustus 2007
Day 8
Okay, I've forgotten most of what I wanted to tell you about yesterday. Maybe I'll remember whilst I write this:
Boy o boy o boy... have I got some story to tell. This morning I woke up and the first thing I wanted to do was get out of that shit hostel. So I got up, didn't shower, put my backpack in the luggage room and went into Bratislava. Well Bratislava really is nothing if not hardly anything... there is no such thing as a city centre there. I go on the internet at the hostel (only internet I could get) and saw that a train to Budapest was leaving in 35 minutes. Perfect! Only not so perfect in terms of time.. I walked to the tram stop and found absolutely nothing that was selling or even qualified to sell tickets. I could also walk for hours and see if there was anything else, but I decided to take my chances and hop on without a ticket. 10 minutes later this turned out to be the worst decision I'd made this trip with the exception of Berlin as my first destination. Two big guys walked towards me and not-so-politely asked me for my ticket. I said 'Que?' and they foresaw trouble so left. No that's not how it went: I played the innocent tourist looking through my moneybelt and then hopelessly saying 'I must have lost it!' By the time I'd said that we were half an hour later and they asked me to follow them to a nearby police station (riding without a ticket seems to be a serious criminal event in Bratislava...) and placed me on a bench telling me to wait. Luckly I only had to sit between the other guilty and not so guilty people, and a fat officer started questioning me in Slovakian. I said 'Que?' and was swiftly escorted to the exit. No that's not how it went: The officer got to business and made it clear that I had to pay a fine of 1500,- stuffy (whatever they use there) or 35 euro's. I served my sentence and left, knowing I'd never make that train.
Only when I was walking the 2 miles to the station did I realize that 1500,- stuffy is by far not 35 euro's... but the ticket looked official so I didn't go back. Not that I'd have gone back anyways...
When I got there I found out that a train to Budapest left in 45 minutes and so I sat there feeling sorry for myself and my 35,- euro's. 40 minutes later a 'train' strumbled into the staion asf it was supposed to breathe its last breath ages ago. This train was seriously old... I got in to the wooden carriage and it looked even older from the inside... too odd to describe. 10 minutes later a mother and her 4 untolerable irritating ADHD annoying kids stepped into my coupe to see to it that the next 3 hours would be as uncomfortable as it could possibly be. At least I shared this fate with another man.
When I got to Budapest I found out that the metro I needed was under construction and I had to walk all the way to where the hostel was supposed to be. All I found was a wooden door covered in graffiti, standing excactly in the place where the hostel should be. Half an hour later a few people let me in and said that there was something on the upper floor in the courtyard, so I went up and I found: a guesthouse bearing the name of my hostel. When I went in I found a woman who found that there were no more beds there, even tough I'd made a reservation, and she directed me to another 'establishment' 2 miles away. So I walked there, all pissed and feeling sorry for myself and still for my 35,- euro's. When I got to the address I once again only found a door, right where my establishment should be. 10 minutes later a woman leaning out the window shouted to me 'do you have a reservation' and let me in. Finally!
Well this place is nice, it's quiet and more like a home opened to guests. Very comfortable. Something else now: When I got here I heard all these racing airplanes flying over, and I asked about it at the hostel. Turns out that tomorrow the Red Bull air race is going to be in Budabest! This immediately takes away all my worries and makes me feel so lucky... and to make it even better, tomorrow it's like Hungarian 'Freedom day' and there's going to be huge fireworks tomorrow night!
Just my luck! I'm going into the city now to get some food.
Byron
Boy o boy o boy... have I got some story to tell. This morning I woke up and the first thing I wanted to do was get out of that shit hostel. So I got up, didn't shower, put my backpack in the luggage room and went into Bratislava. Well Bratislava really is nothing if not hardly anything... there is no such thing as a city centre there. I go on the internet at the hostel (only internet I could get) and saw that a train to Budapest was leaving in 35 minutes. Perfect! Only not so perfect in terms of time.. I walked to the tram stop and found absolutely nothing that was selling or even qualified to sell tickets. I could also walk for hours and see if there was anything else, but I decided to take my chances and hop on without a ticket. 10 minutes later this turned out to be the worst decision I'd made this trip with the exception of Berlin as my first destination. Two big guys walked towards me and not-so-politely asked me for my ticket. I said 'Que?' and they foresaw trouble so left. No that's not how it went: I played the innocent tourist looking through my moneybelt and then hopelessly saying 'I must have lost it!' By the time I'd said that we were half an hour later and they asked me to follow them to a nearby police station (riding without a ticket seems to be a serious criminal event in Bratislava...) and placed me on a bench telling me to wait. Luckly I only had to sit between the other guilty and not so guilty people, and a fat officer started questioning me in Slovakian. I said 'Que?' and was swiftly escorted to the exit. No that's not how it went: The officer got to business and made it clear that I had to pay a fine of 1500,- stuffy (whatever they use there) or 35 euro's. I served my sentence and left, knowing I'd never make that train.
Only when I was walking the 2 miles to the station did I realize that 1500,- stuffy is by far not 35 euro's... but the ticket looked official so I didn't go back. Not that I'd have gone back anyways...
When I got there I found out that a train to Budapest left in 45 minutes and so I sat there feeling sorry for myself and my 35,- euro's. 40 minutes later a 'train' strumbled into the staion asf it was supposed to breathe its last breath ages ago. This train was seriously old... I got in to the wooden carriage and it looked even older from the inside... too odd to describe. 10 minutes later a mother and her 4 untolerable irritating ADHD annoying kids stepped into my coupe to see to it that the next 3 hours would be as uncomfortable as it could possibly be. At least I shared this fate with another man.
When I got to Budapest I found out that the metro I needed was under construction and I had to walk all the way to where the hostel was supposed to be. All I found was a wooden door covered in graffiti, standing excactly in the place where the hostel should be. Half an hour later a few people let me in and said that there was something on the upper floor in the courtyard, so I went up and I found: a guesthouse bearing the name of my hostel. When I went in I found a woman who found that there were no more beds there, even tough I'd made a reservation, and she directed me to another 'establishment' 2 miles away. So I walked there, all pissed and feeling sorry for myself and still for my 35,- euro's. When I got to the address I once again only found a door, right where my establishment should be. 10 minutes later a woman leaning out the window shouted to me 'do you have a reservation' and let me in. Finally!
Well this place is nice, it's quiet and more like a home opened to guests. Very comfortable. Something else now: When I got here I heard all these racing airplanes flying over, and I asked about it at the hostel. Turns out that tomorrow the Red Bull air race is going to be in Budabest! This immediately takes away all my worries and makes me feel so lucky... and to make it even better, tomorrow it's like Hungarian 'Freedom day' and there's going to be huge fireworks tomorrow night!
Just my luck! I'm going into the city now to get some food.
Byron
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