On time and on point in Budapest

Eastern European trains are a model of efficiency. When they say you arrive in Budapest at 5:04 am, you arrive in Budapest at 5:04 am.

So we are in a new city, the jewel of Hungary, home to 20% of its population. The train station, although a little shady-looking in the wee morning hours, seems not too shabby. We load our packs on our backs and set out for the Backpacker's Lounge, near the Oktogon. Our merry band has been reduced to 3, as Joe has parted ways on his journey to Budva, Montenegro, for some much-needed beach time. After some searching high and low, we find the hostel, as well as finding our welcoming committee, a very drunk traveler making the most of his stony doorstep nap, sawing some serious logs. Several attempts to ring the hostel proves that this is no 24 hour hostel, that we'll have some time to kill.

Thank God Budapest has thoroughly jumped on the American fast food bandwagon. Breakfast and coffee at McDonald's, followed by more buzzer rings at the hostel. Still, no dice. So Starbucks it is, for more caffeine and waiting. We finally rouse the front desk after 9 am and promptly deposit our bags before exploring the city a bit.

First stop, since the weather isn't especially resplendent, is the Terror House.

This amazingly stunning museum is a dedication to the Nazi occupation, the Russian occupation after World War II, and the atrocious things done at this building when it hosted the Arrow Cross Party, a group that perpetrated some serious horrors on the Hungarian people in the name of national socialism. It was a heavy exhibit, but very well done and well worth the break from the rain and clouds.

From there, we stumbled across St. Stephen's Basilica:

An absolutely gorgeous church. We waltzed in during Latin Mass and quickly decided that we needed to return and explore at a much less intrusive time, so we ducked out and headed back to the hostel.

We knew that naps were a necessity, as a sleeper train doesn't always provide the best sleep, even with pharmaceutical intervention (again, thank you Unisom). Napping the dreary afternoon away, we set out for a local eatery to fill our stomachs, and stumbled across a row of restaurants, with much to choose from. The place we descended upon did not disappoint. We even threw down for a taste of the local liquor, an amazingly strong and unsavory drink called Palinka which turned out stomachs and our faces away from a second round. Good thing the Passion Sor beer was delicious. We befriended a table of Brits next to us and carried on a lovely conversation until we were ushered out at closing time.

Tomorrow, we properly explore a beautiful city, with the hint that the sun might just join us.