EURO-JOURNAL DAY 62 (LONDON - HOME)

Today I returned to Ireland. I rarely fly when traveling between London and Ireland. I'm sure there are very cheap flights when you book in advance. But I rarely have a planned schedule which allows me to book far in advance. And I personally find train and ferry travel much more enjoyable, dignified and less stressing that budget airlines and busy airports. It's also handy if you have a lot of luggage as there are no restrictions like airlines have.
There is a "Rail and Sail" ticket which I usually get from Euston Station, London up to Hollyhead (a port town in Wales) and then the ferry crossing to Dublin. It costs less than £40, but is a full days travel. I don't mind the full days travel as it's nice time for thinking, reading and writing. Though more often than not, there are very interesting people sat next to me and I don't get any of those things done.
On this trip, I was especially lucky with seat-mates. On the long train journey to Wales I was next to a South African man in his sixties. I say South African, but really he fits into that hippy category "Citizen of the World". He was such a fascinating guy. He grew up in Africa, has traveled all over the world, lives in Goa, India, has a girlfriend in London, and was on his way to an Irish farm to spend the winter helping out for free board and food. Some of the stories I coaxed out of him were side-splittingly funny. When telling me about his travels in Eritrea, northeast Africa, he recalled that the local alcohol was so good that his girlfriend vomited and he wet the bed.
Initially he seemed standoffish, perhaps because I had been sitting in his seat (accidentally of course). But when he realised we share a passion for travel, he opened up, I mean, he really opened up. During the hours we spent on the tracks I heard about his travels throughout the world, about his business in Goa (selling T-shirts), about his twenty-one year old daughter dying suddenly of cervical cancer, and of his own battle with Parkinson's disease.
I had noticed a slight twitch when he boarded the train. And a couple of hours later, he was really shaking. I didn't want to ask about his condition, but was really glad when he brought it up because I was curious. Man, he made so many jokes about his Parkinson's. He told me he gets so many compliments on the dance floor from girls back in India. "But", he said, "I can't help it. It's the Parkinson's making me shake like that. They think I'm pole dancing, but I'm holding the pole so I don't fall over." Haha, what a legend. And on the laptop he had with him, he told me he had tons of unwanted files from accidentally clicking downloads all the time. I really love a person who can make jokes about themselves. And I have a lot of respect for him going to Ireland to do physical work over the cold, wet months despite his condition. He was diagnosed with the illness in 1989, but has only recently starting taking medication. Before that, he just maintained a positive attitude and tried to manage without meds. Though he did admit to having tried some alternative medicines such as blood draining.
We chatted about all sorts of other things too including Atheism which we seemed to be on the same page about. He said "my god is spelled with two Os", which I thought was brilliant, and made many other witty comments like "I'm not saying I don't believe in an invisible world".
We parted ways in Hollyhead to take different ferries as both Stena Line and Irish Ferries operate there. Boarding the boat I got talking to a Portuguese girl who was on her way to visit friends in Dublin. She was fun and interesting and we sat together on the boat and enjoyed a little packed lunch picnic, coffee and plenty of joking around. She, Mariana, coincidentally is living in Hackney, quite close to Karol. She is doing a PhD in Archaeology which sounds both fascinating and fun. I had never thought of archaeology as a fun field before speaking to her, but actually it does sound quite appealing. When a team is doing a dig they can be somewhere way out in the wild, sleeping in tents and living quite rough. That sounds adventurous as well as the bond and comradery one must experience working like that. And of course, there is discovery; one of the reasons people travel so much - to discover, to learn, to find something new. Maybe I'll start digging holes.
In Dublin Ma and Da picked me up and drove me north for some good, home-cooked food and a good nights sleep.

Making new friends right up until the end.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 61 (LONDON)

We had a barbecue at Karol's this evening. Aussie James and Finnish Suvi, backpackers I met in Sarajevo, but who are living in London came over. It was a good chance to catch up and have a laugh about the good times we had. London is a great place to live. So many different nationalities are here and it seems easy to meet new people and have a good social life. Pity it's so expensive.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 60 (LONDON)

Caught the tube to Vauxhall to meet Rachel for lunch. Rachel is an English girl I met in a free Korean class at a church in Seoul four years ago. I think I was the only atheist in our class at the church, but I got on really well with Rachel and a Canadian guy called Greg so we formed a study group together. Both Rachel and Greg left Korea after completing their one year contracts, but we always make an effort to meet up whenever we happen to be in the same country.
A homeless guy sat next to me on the subway. He smelled a little of booze and didn't seem to have any full teeth, just the bases of them were visible. And his nose was pretty flattened, looking like it had been broken more than once. He was a big guy, but didn't seem aggressive so when he asked about my Kindle, which I was reading from, I explained how it's different from an iPad. For the next four or five stops he talked to me about his old drinking buddy James and how he'd died when he was just 38. He got a bit teary eyed and then started to talk about life in the sixties. He said he was from Manchester originally, and I said I was from Northern Ireland. He mentioned George Best and said he was disappointed that George went back on the booze after his operation. At his stop we shook hands and said good luck. I was pretty pleased with myself for chatting to him because, to be honest, I'd usually feel uncomfortable in this type of situation and try to get out of it.
Rachel and I had some lunch in a pub - quite a fancy lunch actually, which seems to be the trend for pub grub these days. It was great to catch up and to reminisce on the past. She's working for an NGO and oversees fundraising. It sounds like a great job - challenging and creative and she even gets to go on "business trips" to Zimbabwe. Not a bad gig! When Rachel went back to work, I went to a tea house she recommended. A pretty place that the waitress described as Harry Potterish. At 5 or 6 pound for a cup of tea, it would need to be magic.
I met my younger cousin Gerard at about six. He's from the same place as me, but has been living in London for the last few years. I don't know him as well as I know my other cousins so looked forward to spending some time with him. He recently graduated and is working at a Wetherspoon pub in Kingston while looking for a graduate job. His pub serves quite a variety of European beers so it was good to continue to beer sampling tradition tradition of this trip. Gerard seems to be doing great - content, but focused - he looks to have bright future ahead of him. It's good that he's living away from home and in a big city with opportunities. I think doing that broadens people's horizons and gives them confidence to try more challenging things. I know that my time in Korea, surrounded by good people who believed in me, certainly made me feel more confident and optimistic about the future.
Karl came down too and joined us for a few pints. But, as always, a few pints turned into a session and it was another belly-full.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 58/59 (LONDON)

Not much to report. Lot's of lazing around and more beers. And we dragged ourselves out for an uneventful night as a farewell to Ricky before he flew back to Sydney the "real world"

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 57 (LONDON)

A pretty chilled day at Karol's. We mostly sat around watching TV and drinking the Bordeaux wine that Beoy gave me in Paris. Karol isn't working at the minute so it's cool to hang out with him and catch up properly. We've met several times in the last four years - he came to Korea and Indonesia as well as Budapest to see me (what a friend!). But usually we are too busy partying to talk deeply so it's nice to just have some quiet time to catch up and talk about the future. We are both at transition stages of our careers. I'm hoping to move on to something other that teaching English (but who knows what?!) and Karol is changing jobs from criminal defense lawyer to other types of law.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 56 (LONDON)

Man, London hangovers are expensive hangovers. I spent forty-five pounds last night and it wasn't even a big night; we just went to a couple of local pubs for beers and shots.
Ricky had to get up early and drive to Southhampton to drop off the car. I got up early too and explored east London a bit while Karol caught some zs. I love walking around Hackney. It feels more foreign to me than the far east. The ascetic jews with their fascinating haircuts and hats and the east Africans in their colourful robes are more prevalent here than us white boys.
I found a little Oriental medicine shop that was open on Sundays so I went in for a well-needed head and shoulders massage. Ten minutes only cost eight pounds and I definitely needed it after all the driving and the car-sleeping. The Chinese man did a great job and it felt like much longer than ten minutes so I might go back again before leaving London.
I then walked down to Tottenham where I finally found a Turkish Coffee House - a really nice place with big bookshelves, live music in the evening, and terribly slow service. I was in no hurry so didn't mind at all. I (kind of) enjoyed the Turkish coffee though I always feel I'm getting more value with a big mug of Americano than with these tiny european drinks.
Back at Karol's house I caught up with him and his housemates - Timaz and Sophia. Timaz is first generation British, but his parents are from Iran. And Sophia, his wife is from Cypress. Timaz's parents are visiting right now and it was cool to talk to some Iranians. Since meeting Timaz years ago, I've always wanted to visit Iran. But I think it would be a place best visited if you have friends there and not just as a solo backpacker. Some day I hope.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 55 (PARIS - LONDON)

Left Beoy's early this morning to meet up with Ricky for the drive up to London. We caught the boat from Dunkirk to Dover and then drove up to Karol's falt in Hackney. Ricky and I are going to stay with him for a while. A few beers and a bit of a catchup tonight over a barbecue on the terrace.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 54 (PARIS)

I spent today wandering around Vincennes and in towards Paris centre. I've been to Paris several times before and seen the sights so felt no pressure to run around taking photos or visiting musuems; I just enjoyed reflecting on my about-to-end trip and on what Beoy said last night about moving to Australia.
I walked along the boulevards and stopped in a cafe to scribble in my journal. Sitting at the cafe was nice, despite the stereotypical arrogant waiters who refused to speak English. I had an almost-window seat and a four euro cafe creme, the expense of which was only justified by the quality of people-watching. This city is full of great characters; baguette-wielding business men, dirty-jeaned labourers, and pretty Parisian girls, dressed in black ignoring the autumn wind.
Later as I sat on the banks of the River Seine, some guy approached me saying he was from Sri Lanka and that I was going to change his life. I told him I was from Ireland and that I wasn't going to change anything. Then I moved to a park bench and read a little of 1Q84. I'm really enjoying it, but hope to get finished soon and move onto something else.
Back at Beoy's this evening, I enjoyed a lovely salmon and prawn dinner and more wine, and then we watched some rugby together.

A couple I saw dancing by the river with an mp3 player and one earphone each.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 53 (PARIS)

We had some problems this morning getting to Ricky's friends place. We found where they lived alright, but Ricky couldn't remember which apartment it was nor did he have access to their phone number. So we spent about forty minutes walking around that neighbourhood trying to get wifi on our phones to contact them. We are the new generation of underprepared, technology-dependent travelers.
His friends were nice and I had a cliche coffee and croissant breakfast with them before making my way across the river to Vincennes, the area my family friend, Beoy, lives in.
I first met Beoy in 2000 when she hosted Karol and I at the beginning and end of our first ever backpacking trip. She had been a friend of my dads and kindly put us up and fed us. In fact, she did, and always has since, feed us like kings. On Karol and my 23 day, 5 country, very-tight-budget trip we mostly survived on supermarket bread, canned tuna and cooking wine which we consumed in parks or on overnight trains.
Beoy is a great host and a great person. The thing I love about her most is that their are no formalities, no pretense, and no nonsense. Whether it be a person she has just met or someone she hasn't seen in many years, she will enter directly into challenging conversation. Although I've only met her three times in twelve years, I feel totally comfortable in talking to her about anything including my worries, fears, and mistakes. And I'm always certain that she will give me an honest, un-sugarcoated opinion based on her own logic, knowledge and experience.
I had lunch and dinner with Beoy, a real treat after weeks on the road since she only eats high quality organic food and cooks very well. After dinner we enjoyed some wine and a good chat. I told Beoy of my lack of future plans, but possibility of moving to Canada to utilise my Canadian citizenship. She strongly suggested I go to Australia instead saying the climate and prospects for work there are great and that Canada has recently joined most other countries in the recession. Perhaps Australia could be an option for me. I spent a year there when I was younger and loved it. And it's pretty close to Asia. But I've heard so many people are immigrating there these days that it might be competitive. Beoy said to forget that and go anyway, "it's a big country". I'll definitely think on it.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 52 (MUNICH - FRANKFURT - NURBURG - PARIS)

Ricky is a legend. This morning Sungshin left at dawn again and I slept until breakfast time. While I was stacking my plate with bacon and eggs, adamant about getting value from my four-euro-eighty buffet breakfast, Ricky walked into the hostel bar/dining room. I said hello and just as he opened his mouth to reply, the extremely attractive Scottish girl I saw talking to him at the bar last night grabbed appeared from behind him. "Rick, Rick", she said in a panicky voice, "can you check your bed for my other earring?" And before Ricky even had a chance to return my greeting, he was gone again leaving me to ponder this over my mountainous plate of food. How had she lost her earring in Rick's bed? Unlike me, Rick didn't have a double room at the hostel. He and Jack were both staying in the forty-bed dormitory in the basement. Interesting.
Later on, over coffee, I was filled in on the events of the previous night. It seems both Jack and Ricky had adventurous and memorable evenings. And then we got the car packed up and drove to Frankfurt. This took longer than expected as did finding a hostel with a vacancy for Jack. Based on the forty-five minutes I spent in Frankfurt - it is a very scary place. Perhaps, like Munich, we were just in the wrong part of town, but all we saw were sex shops, apparent brothels, and homeless/crazy people in the streets head-butting street lamps and arguing with each other. I was glad to get out of there and out of this country and on the way to place I knew and loved - Paris.
Ricky's estimates of driving time turned out to be slightly off as it took over fifteen hours to reach our destination. Perhaps because of the stop in dodgy Frankfurt, or perhaps because we detoured so Ricky could visit a famous car racing course called the Nurburgring. We also came off the motorway once and find a nice little pub/restaurant for some great food and a beer. This was actually a wonderful little detour as we found ourselves in a village with only one pub. The one village pub had lovely, helpful and friendly staff that could not speak a single word of English. It was so much fun to try to communicate and order our food, especially as the table of old ladies adjacent to us thought the whole situation hysterical and couldn't help but laugh at/with us.
After the food, we carried on with the long journey. Despite the length of time we say in that borrowed Peugot, it was never arduous. If I had to choose a road trip partner, I could do no better than Ricky. He's a great guy, as down to earth and humble as they come. And over a few hours of dark motorway driving I got to hear some of his story. Taking a break from a good job back in New South Wales, Ricky is fulfilling his dream on this trip and seeing/doing all the things he's always wanted to. A fairly recent divorce seemed to have been really hard, but this trip has been taking him physically and mentally to where he wants to be. Despite being several years younger than me, Ricky seemed to contain a quiet confidence and maturity that had me regarding him as a big brother. And hearing his story helped me stop taking my own life and luck for granted. This traveling lifestyle that I lead is no doubt a privileged and lucky one. To hear of someone who's been dreaming of doing something for so long brought awareness to how unique my own lifestyle, which allows me to go pretty much wherever I want whenever I want, is.
When we arrived in Paris, it was really late and raining. Ricky couldn't get in touch with the people he knew in the city, and it was too late at night to contact the family friend I had there. So we pulled into a car park and got a few hours sleep.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 51 (MUNICH)

Sungshin was up at the crack of dawn to go back to her village and take care of the kids. I slept much longer enjoying having a nice, clean room and bathroom all to myself. I met up with Aussie Ricky and Jack in the afternoon. Ricky had just had his card frauded in Prague, seemingly when using an ATM. Those two were parting ways after almost four months traveling together - Ricky to go home and Jack to continue his European travels. How they managed to travel together for four months, I'll never know. I could just about travel one month with close friends, and even that would be an exercise in patience. And Jack can't be easy to travel with - a fun and outgoing guy for sure, but very opinionated, outspoken and perhaps a little racist. But I guess Rick's very chilled personality and positive outlook on life made things easier to bear. The plan is for the three of us to drive together to Frankfurt tomorrow, where Jack will go his own way. Then Jack will meet up with a girl he likes and Rick and I will drive on to Paris.I'm looking forward to getting to know Rick better as he was a great drinking buddy and solid guy back in Budapest.
Rick came with me for a look around the city and to buy some present for my friend in Paris. The old part of Munich is very pretty and full of tourists. And this evening Sungshin brought us all to another famous restaurant for traditional food. The boys wanted to go out and party afterwards, but Sungshin was tired from the early rises and traveling so she and I stayed in with a few beers.

Munich.

Munich.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 50 (BUDAPEST - MUNICH)

Ah, the train station was a nightmare today as can be imagined with a Jaeger-train hangover and no preparation made. Karol needed a ticket for Bratislava and me for Munich. But actually my East Europe Rail Pass would dover me as far as the Hungarian border, so I just needed a ticket for part between the border with Germany and Munich. I had decided to go back to Munich because my plans to get to Prague to meet up with Aussie Ricky obviously didn't work out so we arranged Munich instead. Also, it gave me the chance to see Sungshin, the Korean I had met in Zurich, again. Although I got the feeling from recent correspondence that our expectations of this relationship might be somewhat different.
The ticket office at international train station in Budapest was a joke - such a long wait that I couldn't even get my ticket sorted before my departure time. So I gave up on that idea and bought some food for Karol and I as he held his place in line, knowing that it would cost more for a ticket once already on the train. I opted to just board my train and hope for the best so hugged Karol and told him I'd see him in London soon. The train journey worked out well and my hungover exhaustion was forgotten as I was able to get the whole way to Munich on my rail pass without paying any extra. Sungshin met me at the station and we found a hostel nearby aptly named Jaeger Hostel. To be honest though, memories of last night's Jaeger-train were still too fresh to enjoy the free welcome shot of (replica) Jaegermeister.
This is my second time in Munich. I don't like it here as there seems to be a bad feeling, an undertone of aggression perhaps. Although, both times I've come here, I've been near the train station and that is usually the worst and most dangerous part of a town, so maybe I just need to give the city another chance. Sungshin had invited me to stay with her host family again in the village. But I didn't want to. As nice as the family treated me, I felt uncomfortable there last time and I felt there might be something amiss or dysfunctional about that whole situation. So, as much as I hate to spend money on accommodation, opted instead to get my own room in the city. Sungshin treated me a nice traditional meal at a restaurant she knew and we spent the rest of the night catching up.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 49 (BUDAPEST)

Last night was great, but as I said, I don't remember a lot of the evening. Karol said it was the drunkest he'd seen me since our teenage days, and Storm counted seven falls within five minutes, but apart from some little cuts on my hand I feel great. Today will definitely be our last day as Karol's flight is tomorrow (from Slovakia, which we never found time to check out).
We got wired into the beers from about one p.m. and were pretty drunk pretty early. It's so much fun to sit around on a sunny afternoon with people you have already made fun memories with in a cool bar where the staff all know your name because you've practically been paying their wages for the last week. We met some Kiwis that had just arrived and they joined our afternoon drinking session. It was such a fun day and quite special because Karol, Dan, Storm and I knew it would be our last day together. Even in my afternoon drunkenness, I was able to reflect on how much fun this week had been and how much I enjoyed the alcohol-induced, hedonistic side of life. Especially after almost four years of "professional life" in Korea where I was reluctant to party much or drink a lot on weekends for fear of the consequences during the working week. It's nice to be on vacation!
We took early evening siestas and dragged ourselves up in time for the infamous Jaeger Train. A Jaeger Train is a basically a long line of Jaeger-bombs. And in case you don't know, a Jaeger-bomb is a shot of Jaegermeister alcohol in a glass of red bull energy drink. It's the kind of drink that gets your night off to a kickstart. I've heard many bars provide Jaeger-trains. They line up eight or nine glasses of red bull, balance a shot of Jaegermeister between the glasses, then tip the first shot into the first red bull. As the first shot tipples into the first glass, it hits the next shot, which falls and hits the next shot and so on, until they have all fallen, leaving ready-to-drink Jaeger-bombs for the customers. If the shots have been lined up properly and all goes well, their is a domino effect as the shots fall into the red bull and everyone applauds when the end of the "train" is reached.
Retox Party Hostel take their Jaeger-train very seriously. Once a week, they sell tickets to the guests (one ticket = five Jaeger-bombs!) and then set up the train to the size demanded by the number of tickets sold. On the night we did it, tonight, there were 237 Jaeger-bombs lined up. Why the number wasn't a multiple of five, I don't know (perhaps extra in case of breakage). And how long it must have taken the staff, who were usually as drunk as the guests, to set it up, I can only guess, but the sight was very impressive indeed. And the three trains set up side by side all dropped smoothly without a hitch to the amazement of all the guests which had come to watch. Following that expedition we all drank five Jaeger-bombs each washed down with cold draft beer. And still, it was only 8pm.
Needless to say, tonight was as fun and messy as the last few, but had an attached nostalgia as we all knew we were leaving tomorrow. We bought and sneaked more whiskey into the bars later and did some drinking in the street with a cool American marine who was staying at the hostel. Everyone was in top form and had fun mixing with the friendly Hungarian locals. The wee hours took the boys off in different directions and I spend time with a lovely girl who works at the hostel and who I'd been trying to hook up with since arriving. Definitely a great last night in a city which I have grown to love despite seeing almost none of.

The Jaeger train.

Storm and Karol with our drinks.

And after the Jaegers comes whiskey.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 48 (BUDAPEST)

Budapest was so much fun and the hostel was so great and we met so many cool people there that we decided to forget about our plans to visit Bratislava, Slovakia and instead spend the remainder or Karol's time in Budapest. This turned out to be a great idea as we got to experience the unique Budapest Bath Party.
For six weeks over the summer, one of the big Hungarian bathhouses throws a party every Saturday night. DJs, neon lights, poolside bar, and lots of almost naked, drunken people in the water. As fun as it sounds, I was initially reluctant as it seemed like an easy way to get sick, especially with the nights being cold at the minute. But when I heard that this was the last party of the summer, I decided it might be a cool experience. And indeed it was a lot of fun.
Our crew, which consisted of Karol, me and a growing number of cool Aussies, joined the Party Hostel peoples for pre-bath party drinks in a park near the bathhouse. Another big bottle of Ballantines whiskey and just a little cola put us in good spirits for the fun that was to follow.
It was definitely a sexy party, but not at all like I was expecting. The bath which was open air, was actually very classy. Nice walls of European architecture surrounded one large open bath, nicely heated and full of people frolicking, dancing and drinking cans of beer. I wish I could say I remembered it all, but I can't. However, I do remember feeling very happy and very glad I went.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 47 (LAKE BALATON)

Couldn't sleep until about six this morning. I went to bed before one, but had the sweats and felt a little delirious. Karol was the same for a few hours, I guess the Absinthe, Jaegermeister and other crazy drinks we've been hammering recently caught up to us.
Spent the afternoon at the lake. The water was too shallow to swim, but it was a beautiful place and there were big swans swimming as people walked around at ankle depth even as far as 100 metres out. The feel of the place was quite tranquil, but bordering on dead probably because it is end of season.
We had Hungarian food for lunch at a nearby restaurant and washed it down with a few beers. And in the evening Dan and Storm arrived just as Karol and I were hammering cold cans of beer and trying to find me a flight home. Sometimes traveling like this, with no plan, can be a bit complicated. I don't know where I'll fly home from. Ideally Prague, but I'm also considering going back to Munich to see Sungshin again. Karol also reminded me that Ricky and Jack, Aussies we had partied with in Budapest, are driving across Europe. So I sent Ricky a message and he said there's room in his car and I could ride with them as far as London if I want. That's an option for sure and I could meet up with them on Monday in Prague and go from there.
Tonight everyone from the "mansion" went out together. We caught the last train to the next town to sample the nightlife. It was pretty dead. The only place with any life was a huge karaoke bar which opened onto the street. We all piled in there to accompany the only other three people - local lads that sing even worse than me. Beers, whiskey and bad singing and then we all taxied it back to the mansion for more beers and drinking games. Another five a.m. bedtime that somehow managed to feel like a quiet night.

The lake - swans and shallow water.

Afternoon beers with my best buddy in the whole world.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 46 (LAKE BALATON)

I got diverted last night and ended up staying in a different part of town. By the time I got home this afternoon, the boys were already sitting at a table decorated by empty beer pitchers in the bar. They applauded at my return, which was kind of strange, but flattering I guess.
Karol and I had already decided to see a bit of Hungary, so caught a cab to the train station and got tickets to Lake Balaton, central Europe's largest lake, so big that it's often called the Hungarian Sea.
The train ride was fine - about three hours in total with one change. But it was a mission to find our hostel. It is actually an old mansion which became a hotel for a while then was left unused. And this summer, the Budapest Party Hostel group rented it for the summer and filled it with hedonist backpackers. This is the end of season so there were only six other people, all of whom seemed to be working at or associated with the hostel. The place had more the feel of a squat, rather than a hostel or hotel, but was a nice chance from the madness of Retox. Karol and I made some dinner in the kitchen and had a few beers while watching a film with the others. A quiet night in was well-needed.

The former mansion/hotel and current hostel/squat.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 45 (BUDAPEST)

Another mental session in Budapest. Today was James' birthday and, most likely, Karol and my last night in Budapest. So we started early on the afternoon beers. We've really a great crew here now. Sat in the hostel bar all afternoon drinking pitchers of beer and postponing the inevitable shots.This evening the hostel organised a bar crawl and a huge squad of us went on the five-bar, monster drinking session. We bought a "passport" provides 2 for 1 drinks at each of the bars. In the first bar we got 8 rum and cokes followed by vodka and cokes. None of us could taste the alcohol so I popped out to a supermarket, picked up a wee bottle of Ballantines whiskey and topped up all our glasses. That got things started.

The crew.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 44 (BUDAPEST)

Surprisingly not too hungover today. I got up pretty early and enjoyed lounging outside the common room with coffee. It's a nice spot and a nice hostel to socialise with the hostel staff and other guests. The ground floor is a bar where many of the backpackers hang out and which is also open to the public. And the first floor is where the dorm rooms are. But the ground floor bar is open air so the first floor has a balcony running the whole way around and it's a cool place to spend time.
When Karol got up, we started today just like yesterday - beers at the hostel bar with the Aussie lads and other new friends we had made last night.
I had talked Aussie James into coming up to Budapest when he was finished in Belgrade. He was supposed to go to Greece to see his sister, but flights were too pricey. And I knew he and Karol would get along like a house on fire. I wasn't sure if James would actually make it or not as he, like me, seems to follow the wind. So I was stoked to see him downstairs in the bar after my early evening nap.
Retox, our hostel, is part of a group of four hostels known collectively as the Budapest Party Hostels. Every evening they organise alcohol-fueled events and frequently bring the guests of all four hostels together. Unfortunately tonights theme as Anything But Clothes (ABC), which means you should dress something other than clothes. Lampshades, newspapers, sleeping bags, sheets, cardboard and other materials were utilised by the creative guests. But Karol, James and I opted to not bother, figuring it was an easy way to get picked up by the police staggering home alone later in the nude following clothes disintegration. We did however visit the venue for the party for one drink. But there was a lot of boy bum on show and a funky, thick, pheromone funk in the air at the underground bar, so we quickly departed to find our our party. And find it we did. Budapest is great. There are lots of funky bars and friendly locals and cool clubs. The only downside is the horrible local alcohol, which I've forgotten the name of. It is horrible and horribly strong. And the horribly hospitable locals insisted on buying us some shots of this toxic, vomit-inducing black stuff, which makes Absinthe look like shandy. We staggered from bar to bar finding great places with little boats for tables and open air clubs jam-packed with students returning for the start of semester. Another great night with the boys in this hedonistic city.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 43 (BUDAPEST)

Last night on the train was pretty bad. I didn't fall asleep until after 2am with all the worry of "professional thieves" and the discomfort of the narrow sleeper. When I finally did fall asleep, it was just a short time before I was awakened by obnoxious banging on the door by Immigration. Many of the border crossings I experienced in this part of Europe involved huge, blunt, Immigration/Customs officials being generally unfriendly and gruff. This crossing was no different, and of course, we had to deal with both the Serbians and then the Hungarians.
I got in to Budapest at about 6am. I was pretty tired, but opted to walk the thirty minutes or so to the hostel instead of dealing with the complex tram and subway directions I got off Retox Party Hostel's website. And yes, that's right, we had a booking at a hostel called Retox, like the opposite of detox.
Of course, arriving at the hostel, it was too early to check in and get a bed. But a guy called Floyd, who had been partying all night, let me in, showed me the common room and told me I could chill there. There were two attractive girls sleeping on the common room sofas. They were just waking and going to their rooms, so one offered me her sofa and still-warm pillow. I curled up there with my sleeping bag and ear plugs and got a few hours sleep.
Later on I checked in then went to a supermarket to have some food and beers ready for Karol's afternoon arrival. Then I met up with Karol, introduced him to the group of Aussie lads I'd met in Bosnia and Serbia who would be our posse for the next week. We all got started on the afternoon beers at the hostel bar, which was the ground floor.
Memories of the rest of the day are pretty blurry, but I'm pretty sure it was fun and ended up in a bar called Morrisons for cheap drinks which the hostel had organised.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 42 (BELGRADE - BUDAPEST)

I got up at 11am just as James, Dan and Storm arrived back from clubbing and breakfast KFC. Those lads looked like they had a great night and were still wide-eyed and looking to party more. It looks like I missed a good night, but I'm glad I stayed in.
Suvi came with me to the train station to get my overnight ticket to Budapest. Then we dandered around the fort and along the river. It's a cool place and there was a wedding party by the river getting some photos and their reception seemed to be in a restaurant within the fortress. After exploring the town a bit and taking some fun photos on the railway tracks, we stopped for an afternoon beer in the shade. We then stopped at the supermarket and made some lunch while listening to the lads' stories of last night's exploits. Actually we were listening to them repeat the stories they had drunkenly told us this morning, but we didn't have the heart(s) to tell them.
A few beers in the evening with a cool musician from Berlin and then more local fast food with the Aussie lads. I said cheerio and walked to the train station for the 20:10 to Budapest. Stopped outside the station to buy a beer, hoping to chat with the Irish music fan once more, but he wasn't working. I got beer but forgot to buy water. Luckily two nice English girls in the six berth sleeper offered to share theirs. There was also an old lady in our car who didn't seem too friendly, but did translate the condutors warning. He told her/us that there are specialist train thieves on this route and he demonstrated how we should jam a crow bar-type device across the door before we sleep. It was a bit unsettling actually.

Posing.

Wedding shoot.

Railway.

Park.

Fort.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 41 (BELGRADE)

Today's goal was simply to rest as much as possible and drink as little as possible in preparation for Karol's arrival tomorrow. Yesterday was a long and eventful day. I had hoped to meet up with my early morning romance lady, but she said she was busy studying. I explored the town a bit and got to know more of the backpackers and staff at the hostel. There are a lot of fun, cool people in this part of Europe.
The hostel hosts a barbeque every week, so we all attended that as it was pretty good value and quite sociable. The Aussie lads tried coaxing me into going out clubbing again, but I fought temptation so that I would be fresh for Budapest. I haven't seen my best friend, Karol, in a year and he's flying out to meet me in Budapest. He will stay one week and there will be lot's of drinking done in the name of "catching up", so I better rest up for that.
Pretty much everyone in the hostel went out boozing, but a Swiss girl I had met on the train stayed in because she was sick. We chatted and shared music in the common room and I got to bed pretty early.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 40 (SARAJEVO - BELGRADE)

Yep, all the hangover, but with none of the late night partying we had hoped for on our last night. James, Suvi and I made it up in time to get our late morning train. We even had enough time at the station for a breakfast beer. However we didn't prepare well for the journey. Suvi bought some food, but James and I expected beer would be sold on the train and that would help us to postpone the inevitable hangovers. The first few hours onboard were great. Still buzzing from last night and this morning's alcohol, we were in great spirits and had fun chatting with other backpackers on the train. But as the afternoon sun rose, we started to heat up and sober up. At a couple of the stops, thirsty James hopped off the train to see if there was anywhere selling beer. Despite having no local currency or shoes on his feet, he made a good effort for the team. But at one stop, no sooner had he jumped off the train and skipped across the tracks barefooted, than the conductor blew his whistle and sent the train off again. We we are pretty suprised by the quick departure, but none more than James who turned tail and started to nimbly skip over the tracks, avoiding anything sharp, toward the moving train. Luckily he reached us before the train picked up too much speed. I held open the door with my body and reached out my arm. He grabbed it and jumped aboard to the laughter and applause of the other passengers. Later in our train car, James wondered what he would have done in that Serbian village if he hadn't been able to get back on board. With no shoes, bag, passport and just a few euros for beer, it might have been an interesting situation. I reassured him that I would've called out "stay where you are" and come back for him with. Any man that will take those risks for a cold beer should not be left behind.
By the time we reached Serbia's capital, Belgrade, we were well and truly dehydrated. I was the first to get some local currency out of the train station ATM so took a walk outside and marched up to the nearest kiosk selling beer. Always wary of big sity train stations and the people that loiter there, I was a little worried when I set my beers down on the uneven surface and they knocked over a bottle of water that a local man was about to buy. "Sorry", I said. He looked at me and asked "English?". "Irish", I said with a big smile. He returned my smile and left. While confirming the beer prices with the pony-tailed, bushy eye-browed young vendor, he asked in perfect English, "Did I hear you say you're Irish?" I told him yes and he shot me a beaming smile and said he loved Irish music. "Oh, yeah", I asked, "U2? Cranberries?" These groups are universally known and U2 were massive back in Bosnia because of the song Miss Sarajevo and because they toured there, even when other groups wouldn't. But the still-smiling vendor said "No. Traditional Irish music; folk music". I was impressed and bluffed knowledge at my country's music as we chitchatted for a minute. Then I returned to the station with four cans of beer for myself and a very grateful-looking James.
A lot of people from the train were going to the same hostel and most were talking about taking a tram. But James, Suvi and I opted to share a taxi as we were 3 and we didn't want to waste precious drinking time. We checked into a hostel suitably named Hedonists and got straight into party mode. Following a shower and more beers at the hostel, a squad of us headed out together to see what this new country had to offer in the way of nightlife. First, we visited the pedestrianised area near our hostel which hosted lots of restaurants and bars. We ordered a well-needed feast on the terrace of poshly-waitered place and drunk more beer while waiting for our food. By the time the mixed grill we were sharing arrived, we were pretty tipsy. Thankfully the half-cow on our table and salad filled with jalapeno peppers sobered us enough to manage a bar crawl through the town.
Belgrade has a nice vibe to it, certainly not what I would've expected when thinking of Serbia. It also has a reputation for an all night party scene. We were most definitely not disappointed. We got word that the place to be late night in Serbia is down at the River Danube where all the clubs are. We met some other backpackers who were with a local lad and he brought us down there. All the clubs are on old boats docked in the river. Brilliant! The indide of the boat has bars, DJs, great sound systems and everything else needed for dancing and a good time. And for a breath of fresh air or a smoke or a chat, the decks were open. And each boat had free entry and different types of music as well as being close together. So if you didn't like the hiphop boat, which we were on, you could simply get off, walk a few minutes, and get on the techno boat, or the RnB boat, or whatever. It was great!
At about fivish, I started to feel a bit tired so set off to make my way back to Hedonists. I bumped into Dan, Storm and Avneel, other backpackers I'd met, as I got off the boat and we decided to share a taxi to the hostel. But before bed, Aussie Dan and storm talked me into having a ciabatti (Serbia's most famous fast food) with them in a place they'd found earlier tonight. We grabbed some grub and sat in the park adjacent with some locals to eat. The boys walked back to the hostel as first light was breaking, but I got talking to a local girl who offered to take me to the "fort". "There's a fort here"", I dumbly asked. "Yes, just over there", she pointed. So off we walked through the park to a spectacular, massive fort. I was very impressed, not only by this massive, old fort, but also by the long, curly-haired, slim, local girl who hadn't pulled away when I tried to hold her hand. We sat on a bank overlooking the danube and enjoyed the sunrise. What a romantic end to a long and fun day. First impressions of Serbia are very good.

Storm, Dan, Avneel, James and myself getting started in the first bar.

Lovely local lady.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 39 (SARAJEVO)

Today I went on the tour offered by the hostel I'm staying in. Apparently it's quite famous, in a guidebook or something, and everyone at the hostel has been talking about how good it is. I rarely enjoy or remember what I've been told on tours so they seem like a waste of money to me. But I talked myself into paying the twenty euros for this tour as Sarajevo has such recent and horrible history, which I know almost nothing about.
There was only myself and a Portuguese couple on the tour. The boyfriend was friendly, chatty and spoke great English. The girlfriend didn't speak English, but was smoking hot, so I really enjoyed being with both of them. Our driver/tour-guide was actually the father of the hostel manager. He has been living in the hostel building for decades, even during the four-year war. As he drove us around the city and to the outskirts to show us where the Serbians attacked from (and their sniper locations) he told us many stories about the war. In fact, many of the stories were personal anecdotes including a bullet hitting the wall above his head while working and of his best friend getting shot in the leg while he asleep in bed. He took us up the the old toboggan run and other locations that were used when Bosnia hosted the Olympics. We also visited the biggest graveyard and the famous tunnel which was used to get in and out of Sarajevo during the war. There was a war video and a museum and lots and lots of information which went into one of my ears and straight out the other. We also visited a tunnel which was built during the Siege of Sarajevo as the city was cut off by Serbian forces.
I can't say the tour was worth the money to me, but the Portuguese couple were impressed. After the tour, I went to cafe that I had discovered yesterday while exploring. It's a bit out of the centre, but really cool, with an open loft, good tunes and trendy staff. I sat by the open window drinking coffee then beer and watching the locals pass.

The once Olympic toboggan run - now a graffiti spot.

Map showing how Sarajevo was surrounded by Serbian forces during the war in from 1992-1995.

The tunnel.

Last night I had briefly met one of the other guys staying in my dorm room - James. I had overheard him talking to the manager of the hostel about a violent incident between some locals and some backpackers which spilled into the hostel. James intervened to help up and ended up with a big bite mark on his shoulder. I got the feeling he was a good guy, but couldn't be sure. However, today I got to know him much better and decided he is a great guy. And he uses so much Aussie slang. It's hilarious and I frequently asked him to explain what he meant. Some of their expressions are brilliant and silly, but many seem to crude to be used in polite company. I also got to know a blond girl called Suji through James. They seemed to be traveling together, but I later found out they just met in Sarajevo. Suji is Finnish, but lives in London (as does James) and sounds like a New Zealander. They were both easy to get along with and fun to talk to. They said they were catching the train to Belgrade tomorrow and that it was supposed to be awesome there, so I said I'd join them too. Time was getting a little tight to be heading down to Montenegro anyway,
I did my own thing in the afternoon. When I returned to the hostel this evening, the manager told me that James and Suvi wanted to hire a van and driver to take them to Belgrade tomorrow. He said it was faster, easier and not much more expensive, and that if I agreed, he would go ahead and book it. I declined. I had already heard from other travelers about this type of transport. A couple of girls I met told me they spent the whole day in a van because they got rejected twice at borders. They suggested it had something to do with the bad relationship/history between Bosnia and Serbia and strongly recommended using public transport.
Later on, James and Suvi said that taking the train was fine for them too and we decided to celebrate our last night in Sarajevo in style. Unfortunately Sarajevo had other plans.
It's a funny city - Sarajevo. Despite all the history and mosques and tradition, every evening the streets are alive with dance music coming from the bars. Many of the bars are on the street - simply tables and chairs outside with big screen TVs showing sports or music videos. From early evening until midnight there is a great buzz around the downtown area. It's almost too good so it's hard to go back to the hostel to sleep because you can't help but feel you're missing out on something. Especially as Cheers Bar, the loudest and latest bar, is right in front of our hostel and the music comes right through the windows.
James gathered up a few stragglers from the hostel and we all hit Cheers together. It seemed James knew just about everyone in the hostel as he kept calling over guys that passed by. Soon we had a table full of backpackers - though, except Suji, we were all men. Even at our small table, quite a few nationalities were represented - Canadian, Aussie, Finnish, Icelandic, Norwegian, English,Iranian, and of course, Irish. Coincidentally it was several other backpackers last night in Sarajevo. So after many a "cheers" and a couple of broken glasses, spirits were high and we set off in search of somewhere to dance and improve the male to female ratio. We stopped at a couple of bars for shots and to check out the scene, but nowhere was as lively as Cheers. We kept stopping at bars, getting shots, and asking where the party was. We lost a couple of people along the way including the curly-haired Norwegian who said he wanted to fight someone. Probably a good thing we lost him.
And in the end, we found nothing. We followed rumours of a club, but whe we got there, it was empty too. So finally we gave up and returned to Cheers, where even it was dying down in the wee hours of the morning.So Sarajevo misled and disappointed us with after-hours nightlife, but still left us with hangovers the following day.

Beers at Cheers.