I have got to find the river,
Bergamot and vetiver
Run through my head and fall away
Leave the road and memorize
This life that pass before my eyes
Nothing is going my way

I was in this part of Europe once before as a student when I backpacked around the Czech Republic and Poland for a couple of weeks. It was 1997 and I spent the bulk of this time drinking Černý pivo and learning more about Communism and Jewish internment/extermination. My Christmas was spent in an old Prague boathouse with other dumb youth hostelers- one who was overheard on a pay phone saying “Yeah Dad, I’m in Czechoslovakia!” God Bless America and its robust geography curriculum; I don’t think this guy grew up to be an Olmsted Scholar.

The last thing that I remember from that trip was a really bad Guinness shared with a Czech dude who joined our table (uninvited) to tell us that he was a vampire. He might have been decidedly uninteresting, but I departed Central Europe completely captivated by its history, feel, and yes food. We had been close to heading to Budapest during this adventure, but with great regret we could never make it fit into our itinerary. I vowed to get there one day.

Budapest at last! It lives up to the hype.

So here we are, thirteen years later- grâce à General Olmsted. I am traveling with Christine, (the Rabat Scholar) and we are staying with the (Hungarian speaking) Olmsted Scholar and his family here in Budapest. Lucky us.

First order of business in our new surroundings? Go for a run!  Christine is an ultramarathoner, and I’m just a runner who is really happy to share a run with someone who won’t drive me crazy.  We are issued a map by our hosts and told that it’s a straight shot down to the river for a great running loop. I am ready for picturesque Budapest so I grab my camera along and off we go. 

 Not much scenery along the twisty roads- and the miles start to tick by without any sight of the mighty Danube. We get a few suggestions of being close to this supposed river, but no sign of water.

Budapest arose out of two Bulgarian military frontier fortresses: Buda and Pest, which were situated on the two banks of the Danube River. How we are completely failing to stumble across this massive body of water is beyond me- but it could have something to do with the fact that I was on the lookout for cool photo opportunities. This was the first one that got me excited:

It’s a Lada!  Christine didn’t share my enthusiasm- but it gave me hope that I’d see a Trabant on the road too. Love the fact that old, crappy innovation is still being proudly utilized- but we are stacking on miles and seeing nothing of this lovely city.

An old lady tells us to take this tunnel to get to the river.  We learn later that it’s against the law for pedestrians to traverse this tunnel. You can kinda see it’s a little tight…

But it does take us to the Danube! Our troubles are over!

 But where exactly are we staying, and how do we get back? (Note how BIG the river is on this map- I am impressed at our ability to evade it completely)

I’m taking photos of things I find interesting…

…or taking various photos of Christina trying to figure out where we are. I don’t think I was helpful at all in our attempts to unlost ourselves.

Visions of coffee and afternoon cake dancing in our heads, our tired asses labored up many stairs in order to get back home. We had no idea we were gonna really earn that dessert!

And it’s not like Hungarian isn’t an incredibly complicated language. I mean, here’s the street we finally relocated. Easy to pronounce, easy to remember, right?

Showered fed and watered, we indulge without guilt or street maps.

Next stop, Communism! Here’s a sneak peek:

What’s the requisite amount of time that must pass before we can make light of unfortunate occurrences? If we’re talking about getting lost- it’s a few hours. Cruel dictatorships….that’s a little harder to gauge…