How Do You Say Stitches in Hungarian and Please Dear God, Don't Take My Bug Spray

And now for a joke.

Where do you go to get the best coffee in all of Budapest?

The airport.

Hahaha.

No really, 33.33% the coffee has been fine the past three weeks between Hungary and Romania, but honestly, the other 33.33% was actually compost water and final 33.33% was just too dang small. I love espresso, but at home I typically make a 12 cup pot of coffee in the morning and procede to drink it for the rest of the day until about 8 p.m. To drink the equivalent of 12 cups of drip coffee in espressos, I would have to order 2345678 espressos. And then my head would explode. 

Anyway, if you did not gather this prior to my rant, this morning at 5 a.m., I woke to my last few hours in Budapest. The past three weeks in the first two countries of my tri-country excursion have been a little bit beyond words for me. I know I whined about toilet paper, bathroom doors, toilets, bathrooms in general, but if I ever have the opportunity to come back here, I will. Of course, it really wouldn’t be the same without my Flinn brothers and sisters (flothers and flisters, anyone?? =D) who made this trip for me. I thought they were pretty dang cool before, but now I am sitting here wondering how I am going to get over withdrawals from those kids for the next 4 weeks (and beyond, damn all these world travelers...)

Before I get into my first entertaining story of the Benin leg of this trip (which literally started an hour ago, so the fact that there is already a story makes for a promising month to come), I have a few last tidbits to share from Europe:

1. Remember that blog about tripping and getting hurt all the time? Well, a really good way to perpetuate that injurious cycle is to try to use your multi-tool as a corkscrew replacement when opening a bottle of two-buck-chuck at a picnic on Gellert Hill overlooking Budapest. Ironically, I wasn’t even the one drinking said high class beverage, I was just trying to be a team player for the benefit of everyone else. My advice to any travelers reading this would be to definitely buy a multi-tool for your voyages, but make sure you buy one where the knife locks in place so it doesn’t close and slice your finger open when you try to stab it into a cork. Long story short, not having such a tool will lead to gaping finger wounds, a visit to a Hungarian hospital for stitches (which they opted not to give me), a bottle of liquid bandage (to make up for the lack of stitches), and the potential for coming down with a festering flesh eating virus during your future travels (not that I am worried or anything) 
2. Thinking way back to Romania...I think that was 4 days ago or so...my favorite experience was definitely my homestay in Petrini village, where I pretty much adopted my host mom’s daughter, Kinga. This kid spoke zero English, but that didn’t stop us from becoming best pals. We colored on her balcony, we swung on her porch swing, she brought me all of her cats to pet, she taught me how to folk dance...or tried at least... This cool little child just made me think even more about my rocking cool sisters at home who I miss like freaking crazy. I can’t wait to come home and lick all of them, then have a spinach/cereal/Mom’s spaghetti sauce party on the kitchen floor. Oh, and salsa. We don’t have to mix all those things. We’ll have them in 12 seperate courses...Hungarian style. 
3. Speaking of food, a couple of days ago while on an architecture tour of Budapest, our  group walked past a swanky juice bar which advertised fresh fruit and vegetable juices as well as a salad bar in their window. I tried to ditch the tour with my pals Cary Kelly and Katherine Richard in order to consume a massive spinach shake, but we were caught and shepherded back to the art noveau, baroque, yadayadayada of the surrounding buildings, none of which were offering spinach shakes. No fear though, we came back the next day and enjoyed spinach/beet/carrot/orange shakes AND a spinach salad. It was a very good day. 

Alright, now for this morning. I traveled to the airport with most of the Flinn kids, but then we had to separate and head for different terminals. I pondered the merits of bawling hysterically, and then walked into my terminal. Then I pondered the merits of sitting on the floor and bawling hysterically. Actually, I couldn’t do any bawling because all of the sudden I was by myself and shit just got real. Who has never traveled alone before? This kid. After waiting for 3o minutes in the wrong line for check in, I finally got headed in the right direction, toward security and my gate. Naturally, just like everyone else in the world, security is my FAVORITE part of air travel, so excitedly tried to get all of my liquids, electronics, shoes, etc off, out and in a bin to go through the xrays. As I was performing my “Security Rage Rush”--the process of trying to rapidly throw all of the items you took out or off back in or on in 4 seconds or less because there is a line of incredibly excited people behind you, all trying to savor their final seconds of their favorite airport activity--my bag got sent to the naughty list and the bag checker man told me to take out my stuff, then proceeded to confiscate my mosquito repellent.

I contemplated the merits of sitting on the floor and bawling.

But I didn’t. No, in fact, staring the face of malaria itself in the eyes of the bag checker man, I told him yes of course I would throw away my lifeline between health and a vomiting fever in the garbage can behind me, and then proceeded to smuggle it under my jacket as soon as he turned my back. And then I wanted to pee my pants in fear, but seriously, I am already at risk of flesh-eating bacteria with this finger of mine, do I really need malaria or dengue at the same time? No thanks. 

And now many pictures which I made an attempt to arrange chronologically.

 Me and Kinga and one of the cats. How could anyone not love that little toothless grin?

Ok, I feel rude and socially inappropriate for pos

 In Kinga's village, these storks are everywhere! I am not really sure how they make their giant nests work on the top of electricity poles, but this sort of Jenga-home building fowl skill is pretty impressive to view on every single pole in the village.

Ok, I feel rude and socially inappropriate for posting this, but I just wanted you to see what I am up against when I talk about the potential for flesh-eating diseases. This particular...issue...came from a fall while running in Kinga's village, probably because  I was too busy looking at the storks to pay attention to the road. What would Shanan, the virology guy in my Flinn class, have to say about this? Well, open sores are open doors, so I am probably going to die.

More odes to Hungarian/Romanian restrooms. First, the picture, just in case you can't figure out WC, here's a diagram of how to use this room. Second, every time I saw a "Defect!!" sign on a bathroom I laughed my butt off and said "Yes, welcome to your country, you really should put these on all of the restrooms."

Even though we just LOVED all of the fried cheese and potatoes we were served throughout the trip, Olivia, Katherine, and I were able to deprive ourselves of those delicacies one night in Cluj-Napoca, Romania, opting instead for Greek salad and fruit parfaits. Freaking yum.

Here is an artsy picture of nature.

Here are the "Fladies" in the nature. From left, Olivia, Jacque, Jasmine, Amy, Lily, Katherine, Julia, and Gaby. 

Interesting observation I have just made: it would appear that Katherine and I wore the same clothes on every single hike. 

Now for the Flen. Or Flentelmen. Whatever. From left again, Lee, Donovan, Dylan, Patrick, Ben, Paul, Nick, Aman, Shanan, Shantanu, and Eric.

Another cool find in Budapest.

From the courtyard of a very cool cafe in Budapest.

 The fabulous salad/shake lunch of my last day in Budapest.

And finally, the finger. This is called a splint made from a "readily available commercial device," a creation made by me, Ben, and Aubri, the lovely chaperones on this trip. This picture doesn't really do the gaping cut justice though, as I waited until I was superglued back together to pull out the camera. 

And now it is time for me to get onto a plane....shit getting realer as we speak =D

For the honor and glory.

To Budapest and Back: An Open Relationship

         My relationship with Budapest could be likened to a roller coaster. Or the stock market. Or one of the elevators here at the Medosz Hotel that can maybe fit a person and a half, but usually wind up with about seven occupants. If you aren't following, it's been up and down.
        I am sure I mentioned this previously, but Budapest has been our home base for the Hungary/Romania trip. The first time we left to tour around other Hungarian cities, I was insanely excited. In the four days that we were here initially, I think I learned that my comfort level in a new place is directly related to the height of the buildings. I am used to flat Mesa, Arizona, where yes, you are in a city, but any direction you look, you see mountains (as long as the smog hasn't eaten them up, but that is another story). Well, buildings are tall here--beautiful, but tall--so I started to go a little nuts. Once out of the city, I enjoyed some soul searching, nature time. Maybe it wasn't that intimate, but I definitely pondered the merits of setting up a shack in a few different fields and never leaving.
      When we got back to Budapest the first time, we were sedentary for only a night or so before heading out on our Magic School bus to Romania. As much as the 345678 different Romanian cities that we visited in 8 days was an incredibly interesting experience (Communism fell just over 20 years ago, all of the students we met with are the first generation of new democracy, bathrooms usually didn't have toilet paper, etc, etc, etc), never staying in one place for very long was exhausting. Also, it seemed like the last 15 minutes of every single bus ride (which ranged from 2-7 hours long throughout the Romania tour) involved me going into a bus rage because I wanted to get out of the bus so freaking bad. I believe I threatened to eat seat cushions and break through windows with my forehead if we didn't get to our destinations soon.
    So now, with three short days for this portion of my trip, I am so excited to be back in Budapest, staying in one hotel for a whole four nights in a row. The buildings may still be tall, but at least they don't take a 3 hour bus ride to get too. I am excited to continue exploring here even more--yesterday, my friend Olivia and I discovered a four-story book store, coffee shop, art gallery extravaganza. More awesome finds to come in the remaining couple of days I am sure.

         Katherine, Amy, and me pre three hour bus ride. See how happy we look? Notice the word PRE.

I saw this yesterday in Budapest and sort of freaked out. I can guarantee you that a year ago, this would have never been here. Good work, y'all.

T    Best "purchase" ever was the free panoramic picture ap on my phone. This is taken from the Citadel island between Buda and Pest, on the Danube River.

From the tippy top of the citadel. 

Paul and Cary. Does it look like Paul practices that smile? Because he does. (he is a theater major though, so cut him some slack)

Shannon and Olivia. Does it look like Shanan practices that smile? Well, maybe he should. 

For the honor and glory.