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Date:
August 25, 2002
Ah ! I just sat down. Good morning from Budapest !
I have been hostel shopping. After 5 places I have
found a home for the week. It feels foreign to have
given myself the luxury of time.
I expect Scott's arrival today. I hope to help him
celebrate his birthday. He turned 32 years old
yesterday.
Any stereotypes that I had of Budapest as a somber
Ex-Soviet Bloc city were dispelled yesterday. I
experienced Budafest and there was nothing religious
about it. Budafest is a huge parade of floats blasting
techno music. The music's volume was so intense that
the camera that hung from my neck bounced with the
beat. The local radio stations and club sponsor
different floats and the goal seems to be who can be
the most outrageous. In the midday sun the dancers
gyrated and shook all types of male and female body
parts that would never see the light of day in my
hometown. Whew! My ears are still buzzing today.
I want to thank all of those who have sent me words of
encouragement and the offer of a bed. I know that I am
loved . It is still wonderful to hear it. In no way do
I view my early return as a failure. I have witnessed
so much in the last year that I will forever be
changed. I believe that my new challenge in life is to
maintain the momentum that my journey has created.
Where ever that may lead me.
I digress to Vienna.
Vienna is a city of culture. The wide boulevards which
are reminiscent of Buenos Aires are lined with museums
and theaters. There is always a dome ,column , spire,
buttress, arch or cherub within sight. The city exudes
the sophistication of Brussels along side the attitude
of New York City. I do not say this to be critical. I
have always found New Yorkers to be helpful. They just
are not polite.
My first day in Vienna I set out with a normal tourist
agenda. I left my hostel with the intent of visiting
some of the city's museum. I made it as far as the
Burggarden Park where a concert was in progress. I
entered and located a shaded place in the grass. I
listened to a classical quartet with the unique
addition of an accordion ?!. Germans and Austrians
seem to love their accordions. I was surrounded by
Vienna's beautiful people who were spread out on
picnic blankets for the duration of the afternoon. The
oddity in this proper affair was a rouge middle aged
man who was sun bathing in a g-string. Or as my friend
refers to them, " A meat hanger". All the tourist were
down by the cathedral taking pictures of themselves in
front of the statues and monuments. I napped, read and
enjoyed the music. I never visited any museums.
My cultural find the following day was a Starbucks.
They are the only coffee house in Europe that does NOT
dole out coffee like it is a controlled substance. My
serving size frustration came to a peak in Hungary.
They serve their Nescafe in a cup that is normally
reserved for expresso. But the "suff" is NOT expresso.
God I love America !
Europe is a collection of diverse cultures. The
European tourist industry is not. From Brussels to
Vienna I witnessed the same scene many times. Hoards
of Japanese tourist pouring off tour bus with the
words " Air Conditioned " printed on the bus window.
Historic areas that are surrounded by shopping
districts which are infested with McDonalds, Burger
Kings and Pizza Huts. Even the beggars seem to limit
themselves to 2 types of uniforms. There are the "
Boxcar Willie " with their hat in their hand and the
waif-like teenagers who have a dog. I am not sure if I
am suppose to feel compassion for the dog or assume
that the dog's owner is sensitive. The tourist who
pass seem more than willing to pay.
Does this sound cynical ? It is not meant to be. It is
the reality of my travels. I will use my friend Dan's
quote. " I have become inured to Beauty. " In the 5
weeks since my arrival in Zeebrugge I have been over
saturated in quaint historic districts. All the Old
Towns are but a blur. This is not a reflection of what
I have seen .It is a result of my sensory overload.
What has made an area distinctive has been the
presence of a friend. Only through the perspective of
a local have I gained a more intimate understanding of
a region's politics and culture. Facts that allude
the average tourist and recently myself.
From Vienna I cycled east through a corner of Slovakia
and onward into Hungary. I hoped for scenic cycling
but only experienced the noise, dust and pollution of
a developing nation.
I had a lucid moment in Slovakia. I had just crossed
the border from Austria and I stopped to consult my
map. I absorbed my surroundings. Drab cement block
buildings bordered cracked concrete highways. Gone
were all the beautiful asthetic touches and familiar
brand name of Austria. I was on a bike and lost in a
city that was recently the old Soviet Bloc. I could
not speak the local language. In fact I did not even
know what the local language was called. For a moment
my circumstances seemed overwhelming and I pondered
returning to Austria. I pulled out my compass and
located my route south into Hungary. My fears soon
faded.
The language barrier has reached new heights. After a
long day of cycling I stopped in a campground for the
night. It was my first day in Hungary. All I desired
was a hot shower that promised to wash off the day's
layers of sunscreen, sweat and grime. I approached the
shower house and froze. Above the left entrance was
the word " Fþrfi ". Above the opposite door was the
word " N„ ". No symbols were displayed like a rooster
or a hen that often appear in America's finer
restaraunts. There were no other campers in sight. I
assume the letter "F" was for female and strode
towards the left door. As I entered a hand clasp my
arm. It was the maid. She utilized her one word
English vocabulary. She said, " Man. " and pointed to
the opposite door. Oh boy ? !
I have become aware of a growing sense of loneliness
and a desire to return home. During my stay in Munich
I befriended Rick who is a photographer form
Amsterdam. After a few days of various conversation
Rick stated, " You are ready to go home. " At the same
hostel I found a copy of the New York Times lying on
the floor. I enthusiastically read every word.
Afterwards I longed for everything American. Yesterday
i was eating dinner alone in a Turkish restaraunt. I
noticed a tender scene across the street. An elderly
woman caressed her partners face in a gesture that
conveyed the essence of love. All I wanted was for
someone to touch my face in that fashion.
Fate has also played it's part. The flood in Prague forced me to take the shorter
route east through Vienna. While I waited for the flood waters recede
I received an email reminding me of a friend's November wedding.
Everything feel into place. The shorter route allowes me a month
off in Istanbul before returning home to attend the wedding. Afterwards
I can celebrate Thanksgiving at home. What a wonderful way to end
an adventure.
I miss you all and will see you soon, Dennis
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