Dobré Fotky. Pěkné Fotky.- Good Photos. Nice Photos.

Říhání Knedlíky- Burping Dumplings

This weekend was unusual for me. I went out THREE nights in a row, which is now only about 50 fewer times than the rest of the people on the trip. And I had a great time. I didn't drink too much, I met some nice people (and an equal amount of creepers), and we all enjoyed each other's company. 

Thursday night we went to Chapeau Rouge, which I was hesitant about, since that is where The Great Club Robbery of 2013 occurred. But since I had nothing left worth stealing, I figured it would be worth a shot. That club is something...special. It's very druggy. Fret not Mom and Dad, I have not come back with any new addictions or diseases. We met some lovely Russians who tried to sell my friend to Bulgarian princes and ended the evening with some very kind English students from my Jewish History class. And then I slept hard.

I was a slug on Friday. I couldn't have done any less if I was sentenced to bed rest by a doctor. However, Friday night we had planned to go to a bar where there were supposedly piglets to play with, monkey bars to climb, and a unique atmosphere to enjoy. We knew it would be grungy. But when we got there, it was nothing less than a crack den. We walked in and it was too quiet. Everyone had obviously taken some sort of hallucinogenic drug before we got there and they were staring intently at a man playing the water glasses. I saw no piggies. I did see a murdery cult den. We immediately decided to go to Lucerna, a club that I always hear people talk about but never actually went to because I dance like Big Bird. They were playing all the throwbacks that I like to pretend I remember, but wasn't actually alive for. 70s, 80s and 90s music. All us Long Island kids had quite a bonding moment when Uptown Girl came on. It was magical. 

And then finally, there was last night. We went to a five-story club. I don't remember the name of it; I think it's just called The Five-Story Club. As you can imagine, there were five stories. Each had a different type of music, and of course we chose the most crowded, sweaty, douchey dance floor. There were some guys who got in a fight, lots of blood, the usual. In fact, Haylee at one point fell on the floor, cut her wrist on broken glass, and ended the night stained in her own blood. As did I. Covered in Haylee's blood. Which she then proceeded to lick off my face. I love that girl.

So now it's Sunday. It's St. Patrick's Day. And I can honestly say that I have no energy left to be Irish today. 

Unfortunately, I have no pictures to share today. With the loss of my iPhone came the loss of my ability carry around a compact camera at all times and take dozens of pictures like it's my job. But with the help of my generous parents, I now have access to a point and shoot. So pictures will be taken!

Budapest.

I have a case of the Mondays. Not because I raged all weekend at some loud, smokey European club. In fact, there was very little raging in the traditional  sense this weekend in Budapest. Yet, I can honestly say it was quite the adventure nonetheless.

We took the overnight train Thursday and arrived early Friday morning, already thoroughly exhausted from our train sleep (or lack thereof. Actually, I slept relatively well because I had a sleeper cabin all to myself. I should stop complaining.). We checked in to our hostel, The Black Sheep (baaa) and then headed straight out. We ate lunch, walked for a bit and did one of those low-expectation free walking tours throughout the city. But alas, my expectations were exceeded. We saw a whole lot. Upon arriving in Budapest, I had been concerned that I wouldn't get to see that traditional postcard view of the city that I had been hoping for. Luckily, I was more than appeased at the end of the tour when we saw that magnificent view. I took a lot of pictures. Like a lot.

Our intentions were good when we left the hostel that night to go to a bar. We had planned to hit a few bars, drink a few drinks, and just have a relaxing night. We maybe got a little too relaxed. We were home by 11:30pm. Sad, but necessary. My brain was no longer functioning. It needed to be done.

The next morning, we set out early for what was going to become the day we walked (probably) every street in Budapest. In fact, I didn't take public transportation once the entire time I was there, which was either an incredibly stupid decision or a brilliant one. Either way, it was a bold decision. I regret nothing. 

So we went to Central Market Hall, which was fantastic, as I have a natural gift for wanting to buy every useless trinket just because it's pretty. I bought a few little chotchkies and a GORGEOUS cobalt blue embroidered pillowcase, which I am absolutely obsessed with and can't wait to display in my new room (Here's hoping! Will the lease be signed this week? Stay tuned!). 

After walking and walking and walking some more, we ended the day at the Turkish Baths, which are really just giant steamy swimming pools with lots of Europeans in them, all surrounded by pretty buildings. But it was soothing for our aching bones, which were just about done for the day. We were delirious from all of our adventures and easily could have face planted and drowned. It's a miracle I'm even alive.

And finally, Sunday was more of an easygoing day. I mailed some postcards, ate lunch, walked some more, and got on the train. It was Komal's birthday, so we were sure to buy goodies for our train party, since no one had any energy to do a real party the night before. 

It was a great weekend. It made me feel alive. Prague is a fairytale, but I definitely enjoyed the return to real life in Budapest. Even though we were constantly on the go, I felt at ease, just looking at the busy streets around me. There is a great attitude there, and we were just in our own little world, efficiently enjoying everything that we wanted to do. I really do feel like we got a lot done, and I am very proud of us for it. And of course, I'm happy with my pictures!

Bump v Cestě- Bump In the Road

The past few days have been tough.

I was dancing, having a great time at a club called Chapeau Rouge (that's right, I'm tagging them. Don't go there). I let my guard down for just a brief time. And naturally, when I stopped dancing, I noticed that my wallet, iPhone, and notorious CamelBak water bottle were missing. I knew immediately that someone had gone into my bag when I was dancing and sneakily took my things.

Fortunately, I was able to Skype my parents, allowing me to cancel my debit card and my phone immediately. But I have been an emotional wreck since Saturday night. I feel very unsettled, living entirely off of wired cash, not having my tram pass, and relying on my parents and friends to do so much for me. I've been incredibly anxious, panicky, and disappointed knowing that I've let something like this happen and now it will take time for me to recover.

And as awful as this sounds, after I get my debit card back, I think that the most difficult thing about this will be not having my iPhone. I realize that I do not need an iPhone. But having access to wifi, that connection to the world when I'm out and about, really means a lot to me. Being able to take pictures constantly, and then being able to upload those images to Facebook so people can see them. It is a classic first world problem, and I'm not proud of it, but the iPhone is really something that helps me maintain my normalcy while I'm here.

Thankfully, my loving, supportive, fantastic parents (SHOUT OUT!) are shipping me my iTouch, so I can use that for wifi. My generous brother is letting me use his camera for the remainder of my time here. So although it won't be exactly the same, I can make it work.

Until then, I feel very stingy with my money. I generally feel traumatized by this whole ordeal, naturally. I don't want to travel alone, and since I was going to meet Dana in Budapest, I canceled that trip and my wonderful mother bought me a ticket to go this weekend to Budapest with my friends from my program here. I'm glad to have something to look forward to. I'm about to go to the bar where my things were taken, in hopes that the no-good-rotten thief took the cash and dumped the rest. Or at least my water bottle. I love my water bottle. I don't expect anything, but at least I'll have the peace of mind knowing that I did everything that I could.

Now for pictures: