Monday, March 24, 2008

Szoborpark

What do you do when communists leave and you have a whole bunch of unwanted Lenin statues? You find some empty land in the outskirts of town and turn it into a park: Szoborpark. Maybe some of the visitors are real communists nostalgic for the good old days, but mostly it's tourists finding novelty in history's oppression. Or maybe it's the satisfaction of knowing that communisms's place in the world is now confined to novelty parks in the outskirts of towns. Politics aside, these are very massive and impressive statues. Biggest damn statues I ever seen.
Getting there is kind of tricky. One bus line from the center of town to another bus line's depot. There are signs in english explaining which bus to take, so obviously they know tourists go there. But on the bus, there's no announcement of the stop. It's really in the middle of nowhere, the kind of place you wouldn't feel like getting off a bus, unless you were 100% sure about it. I would have missed it if not for another tourist tipping me off.

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Lake Balaton, Hungary

Lake Balaton is one of the biggest lakes in Europe. You can see the other side, but it's pretty far, a lot like Lake Tahoe. For a land locked country like Hungary, this is the only option for going to the beach. It's a popular destination for Hungarian tourists and also Germans and Austrians. Lots of little restaurants with mostly German food and beer. There are several towns along the lake. This one is called "Balatonalmadi" which sounds a lot like where Borat is from. "Hello, my name eh Borat, I from Balatonalmadi". The only big hotel there is a Ramada. You can't miss it. It's 10 stories high, which makes it roughly 8 stories higher than any other building in town. It's right next to the train tracks and the beach. Nice hotel. Nice indoor swimming pool.
It's 80 miles away from Budapest but the train ride was 3 hours. That's pretty darn slow. It didn't stop often, but when it stopped, it just sat there. At one point I wondered if I was supposed to get off. It was boiling hot and there was no air conditioning. The black seats didn't help in the heat dissipation department. Sweat just poured out. The train was empty enough that I could sit wherever happened to be the shadiest. My friend biked there and wasn't much slower. On the way back, with all the waiting and the metro ride from the train station, I was only 20 minutes faster than a bicycle.

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Szentendre, Hungary

Szentendre is a pleasant little old town about 12 miles north of Budapest. It’s very touristy. You can tell by the number of tour buses dropping people off. It’s known for a few old churches. Lots of restaurants and stores selling all kinds of Hungarian souvenirs. If you ever need a Hungarian folk dress and accessories for a baby girl, this is the place to go. It took 30 minutes to get there by bus/train from Budapest. I ended up near the ferries, and how often do I get an opportunity to use river transportation, so I took the 1 hour boat ride back. A smooth ride, and very scenic, especially when passing under all the bridges on the way into the city. I've said it before and I'll say it again, water and bridges are what make a city look good. The newest one was supposed to be the Stephen Colbert bridge, but somehow his plan didn't work out.

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Budapest 2007

I went back to Budapest in August. Was insanely hot, but at least there were clear skies and long sunny days. Here are several picasa albums shown as slideshows:




This has to be one of the nicest and biggest parliament buildings in the world, both inside and outside. Plus it's in a great location, right on the river. EU citizens can go on the parliament tour for free, everyone else has to pay. The whole area around it is fenced off and there's no signs or information about the tours. You have to find a guard and ask to go to the ticket office.


In the center of the city, there's a very large synagogue. One of the biggest in the world. A lot of tourists go to visit it. Not many Jews in Budapest now, but they were 20% of the city before World War II. There happened to be a musical festival going on, and the National Hungarian Gypsy Orchestra was playing a concert at the synagogue. Why them? Why there? Not sure. But they played very well.

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Saturday, March 22, 2008

Jew Cars

I’m not walking around staring at license plates, but for some reason, these JEW license plates caught my attention. I felt like I was seeing them all over the place. First in Sweden, then in Hungary. The word for Jew in the local languages is not spelled j-e-w, so I doubt the owners mind, maybe they don't even realize it. But I thought they were worthwhile enough to stop and take a picture.

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Friday, March 21, 2008

Peanut Butter & Soy Milk

What do peanut butter and soy milk have in common? They are both things I like to eat that are not always easy to find in Europe. They are not so much the staples of my diet as they are the enablers of my diet. I could starve to death while holding a loaf of bread if there’s no peanut butter nearby. The same can be said for a box of cereal without soy milk.
Sometimes they don’t exist at all, sometimes they’re just harder to find. For peanut butter, first I find the nutella, because if I was a jar of peanut butter in Europe, that’s where I’d be near. Holland is good for both. Peanut butter, while not used in sandwiches (why the hell not?) is used here and there. It’s called “Pinda Kaas”, literally Peanut Cheese. I found that pretty silly. It’s obviously not cheese. But then again, it’s obviously not butter either. In Sweden, it has no swedish name, and Swedes don't know about it, but if you ask the right person you'll find a couple jars of a skippy-esque generic brand. In Germany it's Erdnussbutter.
Soy milk exists too. The most common brand is Alpro in 1 liter cardboard containers. But the trick is, it's nowhere near the milk. It’s on a random, non-refrigerated shelf. Ask for it by name. In Holland, land of dairy, buying a dairy substitute is downright unpatriotic. I’ve been able to find Alpro soy milk in every European country I’ve been to, but in Hungary I could only find it in a Tesco which is the largest supermarket I’ve ever seen anywhere, and only then I had to walk thru every aisle twice before finding it on one small shelf. The reward for my efforts was that they also had chocolate soy milk. I stocked up.
Communication was a problem in that Budapest Tesco. No one spoke English. Still on the hunt for peanut butter, I struggled, pointing to the nutella, using the universal language of hand gestures. "It’s like this but instead of hazelnuts they use peanuts". Either no one understood me, or no one understood why peanuts would be used for nutella. Alas, I survived in Hungary with nutella and jelly sandwiches.

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Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Vaxholm, Sweden

There are a huge number of islands in the archipelago around Stockholm. It’s a very scenic boat ride. Some very small islands with secluded homes…I’m sure it’s pleasant, but where do those people go to a supermarket? The ferry goes from Stockholm to Vaxholm, a small coastal town with private boats and a harbor. A place where other Swedes go to take a break and get some good ice cream. I thought it was an island until my friends auggested it’d be faster to take the bus back to Stockholm. Whaaat? So you can go 90 minutes by boat, or 30 minutes by bus. Let’s just say it’s an indirect boat ride from one peninsula to another. Getting there was 97% of the fun.

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Stockholm Ads

I find foreign advertisements to be pretty clever. Here’s 3 of a series of bus stop ads promoting the lottery. The tag line is appropriately: "very big prize".

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Ten Minutes in Amsterdam

I arrived at the Budapest airport to fly back to LA on Swiss Air through Zurich only to be told that the Zurich-LA flight was cancelled. In a very short time, they printed me a ticket to LA on KLM. Not only that, the new flight got me to LA earlier than the original flight. Excellent service or perhaps just excellent luck. Hearing the letters K-L-M, to me spelled out A-m-s-t-e-r-d-a-m. I was going back. And the 2 hours between flights sounded like plenty of time for me get into town and stroll around. And of course, pick up some stroopwafels.
I wouldn't have attempted this in any other city, but I was pretty confident that I could get to Amsterdam and back in time. The train takes 15 minutes each way, directly from the city center to the inside of the airport. Add a few minutes for walking, carry the one...voila, I should have at least time for lunch in Amsterdam.
11:25 Flight lands. Ok things look good.
11:45 Still in the plane. Dammit! Adding up the minutes again, subtract, divide by 0, ok, maybe not lunch but a short stroll.
11:50 Out of the plane and running. Boarding pass in hand. Bags already checked thru. Just run to the train.
11:51 Passport controls, argh. Why is there a line? c'mon move move. stamp it. more running.
11:55 Trying to buy a damn train ticket. I know the yellow kiosks but I only have a 10 euro bill. Machine takes coins, no one will give me change. Bastards. Maybe I can just jump on the train. There's rarely ever a check especially for such a short ride. Nope, not worth the risk...don't have time to get busted. Why can't I buy a damn 3 euro ticket!!
11:57 I'll try a credit or debit card. I knew the US cards wouldn't work, what else can I try. Next train at 12:01, otherwise 12:15. Every minute counts.
11:59 Duh, I'm such an idiot. Buy the ticket at the ticket window. How could I forget. 2 minutes till the next train. Why is the person in front of me a retard. Get your ticket and leave!! A minute is an eternity. Should I still go? I dared myself. If you don't do this you'll regret it. When's the next time you'll be in Amsterdam. What's the worst that can happen. You'll get stuck another day in your favorite city in the world? Do it.
12:00 Got my ticket. But what a major mistake. wasted time at the yellow automated kiosks. Ran, no not ran, flew, I flew down the people mover to the train, hop on, doors shut. Damn that's too close.
12:01 On the train. Ah the sound of a dutch train. I'm happy, but nervous. Watching the watch, doing the math again, cutting it close. real close.
12:10 Passing by sloterdijk station. Feels like I never left.
12:15 At central station. Get out of my way slow people. I've got no time. Pick up the free metro newspaper...I'll brush up on my dutch on the plane.
12:16 Check out the timetable for the return train. What time, what track.
return at 12:34. Track 1b. No problem. Walk 9 minutes and come back.
12:25 Walking down the main street. It's December 1, 2006 but not that cold. Sunny. The air feels good. The sound of bikes and trams. Will I make it to De Dam? No that's too far. Turn around. Gotta find stroopwafels. 3 euros for stroopwafels? You crazy? Why isn't there an Albert Heijn?
12:28 Spent too much time looking for stroopwafels, damn. but I've got 'em. Time to run.
12:33 Track 1b is close to the entrance. I'll make it. Running up the escalator. Where's the f'ing train. This doesn't look right. 1b is for international. Check the timetable again. Damn it was track 13. All the way on the other side. Running.
12:35 It's too late. I'm in the center of Amsterdam. My flight leaves in 40 minutes. next train at 12:45
12:45 longest 9 minutes of my life. 3 or 4 stops until the airport. Doors open, doors close. Heart races. Awaiting the sprint of my life. Tickets were never checked. I could have left earlier. Oh well.
1:00 Arrive at the airport. Running like I never knew I could. Hurdling over suitcases and small children. I'll have 10 hours to rest all I want, I tell myself. But for now, just run.
1:02 Check the monitor. Which gate? D43. blinking red lights "GATE CLOSING". The prayers begin.
1:04 Passport controls again and a long line. Noooooo. This is the end. This is where my time calculations went wrong... the passport controls. But there's still hope. I run near the front. I'm told the next window will open soon. Another minute passes standing in front of an empty glass booth. I call my dad, it's 4 AM in LA. "My original flight got changed, but I might miss this one too. I'll keep you posted."
1:06 Passport stamped. Damn that was lucky. But am I too late? The metal detectors aren't central. They're at each gate. Otherwise for sure I'd have been doomed. Run towards D43. The signs shows 5 to 15 minute walk. Not at my speed. Running so fast on the people mover, I'm launched off when it ends. Nearly crashed. I'm channeling strength from my days time trialing at anaerobic threshold.
1:09 I go the wrong way but I catch the mistake quick. D1-40 right, D41-80 left. I could have gone all the way to 40 and had to turn around.
1:10 I get to the gate, it's empty but the plane is there, I'll be the last to board. Backpack goes thru metal detector. Relieved, but still shaking. Won't do that again. I call my dad again. "I made it".
1:11 I'm on the plane. 10 minutes from train to plane. World record. I take my seat between 2 people. The huffing and puffing continues for another half hour.

The plane sits at the gate another 40 minutes. Someone didn't get on the plane so his bags are being removed. "Not mine?" I ask the stewardess. No, someone else. Damn those late people who hold things up for the rest of us!

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Budapest Crossings

Almost every major intersection in Budapest has a metro station underneath it. Rather than have pedestrians crossing over the street, they cross under. Walk down into the station from one side, come up from another. Railings on the sidewalk prevent people from walking into the street. I can see the advantages: better flow for cars not having to wait to make turns, people can cross the street, even diagonally without waiting. But I’m not writing about this because of how great it is. First off this is a problem for handicap people. No escalators and a lot of up/down stairs to cross the street. But here’s the real problem. In any given intersection, there are 8 possible openings. Each of the 4 corners has 2 directions. For some reason, I always ended up on the wrong side of the street or on the right side, but facing the wrong direction, so I’d have to go back down and reattempt another stairwell. Obviously if you know the name of the streets and know where you’re going, it should be simple. But literally, I messed up everytime. I never had such a hard time crossing the street. The same issue arises when actually taking the metro and exiting the station. I manage to always exit from the most inconvenient side. The good news is I only mess up once. After that, I know exactly where I’m going.

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Budapest Opera

There are things I could do in LA, that I just don't think about... like seeing an opera. I have to go to Budapest and pass by the Operahouse to think, "hey, how 'bout seeing an opera?" I don't know much about operas, but Marriage of Figaro is playing, so that's what I'll watch. Luckily, having watched the movie Amadeus, I'm familiar with some of the scenes. Four short breaks and 3.5 hours later, I really couldn't say much about the story. Singing in Italian, with Hungarian subtitles above the stage (or does being above the screen make them supertitles?), didn't help.

But the experience was not so much this opera as it is seeing an opera in general. The opera house was exactly out of a scene from the Amadeus movie. Four stories of balconies, very well decorated, the orchestra pit below the stage. The sets, the costumes, everything very professional. I felt very sophisticated. Not to mention the excellent value. Nearly 4 hours of live performance for $20!

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