So That Happened

Day 3: Talk to the Mummified Right Hand

:: taps mic ::

Is this thing on?  Sorry for the delay; technology seems to hate me nowadays.  Anyway, shall we continue?

Wait, I forgot one thing.  Do you know what I forgot to mention in my post about arriving in Budapest?  When we were going through our luggage after checking in, I looked for the knitting project I had packed for this trip.  No, not the Budapest Slouch, but another project - something I had been working on for weeks and wanted to finish. Anyway, before we left I put it in one of the front pockets of my suitcase because I didn't have room for it in my carry-on.  Upon arrival, I immediately looked for the project in my suitcase...and it was NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.  I couldn't find it ANYWHERE.  I started questioning myself: did I really put it in the front pocket, or did I put it inside?  Did some TSA agent with a yarn addiction swipe it?  I got SO MAD when I thought of all the time I put into the project and now it was gone and existing somewhere in the great divide between Los Angeles and Europe.  I wanted to cry, I was so sad and mad.  Best. Travel Day. Ever!

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December 30: Budapest

Jen and I woke up to a very chilly New Year's Eve, uh, Eve.  The first thing we did was turn on the TV and make friends with the German music channel, Viva.  Oh, how we loved Viva! I'm going to write more about this marvelous network later, but you should know that the only channels we watched were CNN International, BBC World News, and Viva.  Yeah, there was German MTV, but it showed American MTV programming with German subtitles, so it sucked.  It was just like home!

We had a lot of ground to cover during our short time in Budapest (places were going to be closed early on New Year's Eve and Day), so we got started early and made haste to the hotel's complimentary breakfast buffet.  Mmm, buffets.

Clockwise from upper left: oatmeal; wheat toast; scrambled eggs; spinach; pineapple; kiwi, and crepes, all washed down with orange juice and tea.  When I am rich, I am going to hire someone to make this for me every morning. 

The first stop of the day was St. Stephen's Basilica, home of King Istvan's mummified hand.  I really wanted to see the hand, people.  The church was a few blocks from our hotel, so I (very stupidly) thought I could handle being outside without a hat.  No, I wasn't smoking crack.  SO STUPID, I know, because it was FREEZING.  We made our way to the church and all I thought of on the way was how I was going to lose my ears if I didn't cover them soon.  Yikes.

 

The Virgin Mary statue.

One section of the church's interior.   We were packed like sardines into one corner, so this was the best shot I could take.

   

A nice shot of the dome and a terribly blurry shot of the altar with its two Christmas trees.  We were cordoned off from the pews so this was as close we could get without paying for the tour - the tour which included seeing King Istvan's hand!  That's right - we didn't get to see the hand!  (Well, we could have, but neither of us wanted to pony up the cash, plus the tour was going to take long.)  Color us sad.

Another shot of the dome, this time with more detail.

This looks like it would be the main door to the church, but we in fact entered through another door on the side.

This is one of my favorite shots from the trip.  I was in line to look at the rosaries for sale and Jen went to the plaza to take pictures of the church.  See that person standing to the left of center?  That's her.  Hee.

Detail of the statues above the entry.

Mr. Bear!

St. Stephen's Basilica with Christmas tree.

By now I couldn't feel my ears (!) so we went back to the hotel for my hat.  This was when Jen and I started talking about how we (okay, I) wanted to buy a big fur hat because it was SO COLD.  The "How cold are we?" topic came up often and in various permutations.  After spending less than five minutes outside, I thought it would have been smart to have knit this.  Sigh.

I love this picture.

Our hotel!  It had a casino; you can see its entrance in the lower left of the exterior.   The name of the casino?  Las Vegas.  Really.

I don't know why our hotel had a plane hanging in its lobby, but it did.

Now armed with a hat, it was off to the Chain Bridge.  Lucky for us we didn't have to go far as it was right outside our hotel.

Jen's Requisite Photo In Front Of Royal Castle and Chain Bridge.

My Requisite Photo In Front of Royal Castle and Chain Bridge.

The Chain Bridge with its lions facing Pest.  Did you know that Buda and Pest are actually two different cities?  Buda is on the other side of this bridge and is where the Royal Castle is located.  You can see part of it in the center of the photo.

The lion on the left...

...and the lion on the right.  Remember what they look like.  I'm just sayin'.

The Royal Castle and the Danube.  So pretty!

The Four Seasons Hotel in Roosevelt ter.  It was next to our hotel and faces the bridge.  We were excited about eating and knitting at its famous coffeehouse but we checked it out and it was WAY fancier than expected, so we didn't go. 

Mr. Bear at the Chain Bridge.

We then walked up the Danube to our next stop, Parliament, which is in Kossuth ter.

Parliament - George Clinton not included.  (Speaking of, wouldn't it be cool if George took pictures in front of every parliament building?  That would be AWESOME.)

We wanted to take the tour of Parliament but met this instead:

FINE. 

The Kossuth memorial, also in Kossuth ter.

After being disgruntled over missing out on the tour of Parliament, we made our way to the Hungarian State Opera House.  More walking, walking, walking, which did very little to keep us warm.

I really like taking pictures of mailboxes.  Here is a Hungarian one. 

The Imre Nagy memorial in Martyrs' Square. 

In order to get to the opera house, we had walk up Andrassy ut, one of the finest streets in Budapest.  I like their street signs; they look so pretty.

The Hungarian State Opera House on Andrassy ut.

The lobby. 

Everyone on the tour had to wear protective booties.  Here is a shot of our feet.

The nicest concession stands I've ever seen.

The old smoking corridor, which was about the size of a closet.  According to our tour guide, this was where the men would light up during intermission when it was too cold outside.  I was surprised that it didn't reek of smoke.

The staircase.  I kind of want to sweep down it while wearing a fine ballgown, opera gloves and diamonds.

The royal staircase.  This entrance is used only by the royal family to get to their box.  There were people at the bottom of the staircase blowing up balloons for the opera house's New Year's festivities.

Another shot of the royal entrance.  The ceilings and fixtures were stunning.

We got to take pictures of the opera house from a balcony.  This was my first shot of the ceiling.

Aaaaand here's my blurry shot of the interior.  Gah.  I tried SO hard to get a nice still, too. 

The tour ended with us in the seats of the house.  This is a shot of the ceiling from below.

And here is a close-up.

The stage!  It's so very grand, no?

By now we were getting hungry, so we decided to start looking for food.  My copy of Top 10 Budapest mentioned a place that had the best name we had ever heard, so off we went to find it.

Oktagon Square.  We went here for New Year's. 

Don't you love my stealth shot of this woman and her fabulous style?  I'm not one for patchwork myself but this totally works on her.  Awesome. 

Andrassy ut at night.  Sparkly!

We walked and walked and walked some more, and after some time we couldn't find the restaurant and were getting mighty annoyed, not to mention really cold. Grr.  Just when we were about to give up:

There it was!  The Marquis de Salade!  Best Name Ever!  That is about all I can say about it because we did not end up eating there.  It's a long story.  The proprietor should sell merchandise with the restaurant's name, because I was all about buying a Marquis de Salade shirt.

It was getting late (or so it seemed), and we were quite famished and even more cold.  SO COLD.  We walked back towards our hotel in the hopes of finding food and ended up on Vaci utca, a major pedestrian thoroughfare that reminded us of Santa Monica's Third Street Promenade. 

See? 

Pertu Station was where we ended up eating because of its non-smoking section, which is pretty hard to come by in a place where smoking is still permitted inside restaurants.  I was quite amused by the Hard Rock Cafe-esque logo.

My goulash and Hungarian beer.  I really wanted some goulash while in Budapest and Pertu's did the trick.  It was warm, spicy and just what I needed to warm up.  I had a Hungarian roommate in college and I remember her goulash being much thicker, but this was very good, too. 

And with our stomachs full, it was time to head back to the hotel - the warm hotel with our warm room and warm TV.  Ooh, warmth.  And TV.

Hungarian forints, in case you were wondering what the currency looked like.

EEEE!  You all know how much I love Cash Cab, right?  Look what I found: the German version of Cash Cab!   Yay!  I wonder if Ben Bailey knows.  Someone tell him, okay?  Also tell him that I LOVE HIM AND HIS SHOW, won't you?  Thanks!

And now here is the first photo of my Budapest Slouch in progress.  I used Wendy Bernard's Le Slouch pattern which worked so well for me before, but called the project the Budapest Slouch because it was made for the trip.  The hat is made out of less than two skeins of Lamb's Pride Bulky in Cafe au Lait, and was knitted on size 9 and 10 needles.  Being that the yarn is a wool/mohair blend, I could not WAIT to get this done so that I could keep my head really warm!

We got some Britney video-watching in that night, too.  If we only knew that we would be hearing the Craziest Britney News EVER later that week!

I ended the day with the treat from my Malev chocolate fairy.  And with that, it was time to turn in!

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If you made it this far, thank you!  I hope you didn't find this annoyingly long.  Be sure to tune in later for more!

We Interrupt This Travelogue Due to Technical Difficulties

Bah.  My wireless router, which has become really spotty in terms of maintaining its connection, finally did me in last night, so there is no Day 3 post of our vacation today.  I'm going to replace it and get started on posting again, so stay tuned!  Thanks for your patience!

Day 2: Malev - Hungarian for Awesome

December 29: Amsterdam-Budapest

Okay! 

After I-don't-remember-how-many hours of impossibly cramped, annoyingly ScarJo'd flying, Jen and I made it to Schiphol (pronounced skip-hole).  Amsterdam's major airport, Schiphol is, in one word, NICE.  Like, really nice.  It is very clean, easy to navigate, and even has its own art museum!  How neat is that?  The one thing about Schiphol that stinks (literally) is the smoking at the indoor bars even though it is a "non-smoking" airport, but whatever.  We didn't have time to see any bars or museums, unfortunately, as we had just enough time to stretch our legs and get to the gate for our flight to Budapest.

Mr. Bear was happy to stretch his legs, too. 

You're probably wondering what the title of this post is about.  Malev Hungarian Airlines is - you guessed it - Hungary's national airline.  I deemed it to be awesome because its plane had WAY more legroom than KLM Royal Dutch's sardine can.  Seriously, legroom goes a long way with me.  The attendants also gave us chocolates with Malev-embossed wrappers, which I thought was a nice touch.  Bonus: one of them put a chocolate in my bag while I was asleep and I didn't discover it until later.  Thank you, Malev Chocolate Fairy!

Again, no TV, but that wasn't too much of a pain since our flight was short.

And now, my interpretation of the Malev emergency card illustration of two guys smoking and the one guy possibly hitting on the woman in her seat who is Not Having Any Of It: 

Woman, sensing that the man walking down the aisle is going to stop and chat after he bums a cigarette off the guy next to her: "Please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't - "

Man, after bumming a cigarette off the guy next to her and lighting up: "Hey, baby, I'm Miklos.  How you doin'?  What's your name?"

Woman to self: "DAMN."

Man takes a puff and exhales slowly: "So, what's your name?"

Woman sighs: "Erzsebet."  (To self: "OH MY GOD DON'T TALK TO ME AND STOP SMOKING, ON THE PLANE, JACKASS.")

Man places hand on Woman's seat and stands in a way that blocks her in, thereby TRAPPING HER IN HER SEAT GOD WHAT AN ASSHOLE: "So...why are you traveling?  Business?  Or is it pleasure?"  He winks.  EW.

Woman, about to project out of her seat as if propelled by gas, to self: "I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE."

Man: "She is so into me."

Fin.

As for the other illustration, I think the man and woman just joined the Mile High Club and are pissed because they can't enjoy a post-coitus smoke.

Close-up of a sign in both Magyar (the Hungarian language) and English.

We made it to Budapest safely at around 5:30 p.m.  The very first thing Jen and I said to each other upon exiting the plane?  "Holy crap, it's so cold here we can see our breath while inside the terminal!"  Yeah, it was cold cold cold, y'all.  There was a thin layer of snow on the ground but the skies were clear.  That's what we get for traveling to central Europe in the dead of winter, we know. 

This is where you would see photos from inside Ferihegy International Airport, but we were too busy trying to get our luggage plus some Hungarian forints, as well as procuring a ride from the airport to our hotel, so there aren't any.  Sorry, folks.  Take my word for it when I say that it looked very airport-y.

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Jen and I finally, finally, FINALLY made it to our hotel, the Sofitel Budapest in Roosevelt ter (aka Roosevelt Square), at around 7 p.m.  Being that it was my birthday (yay!), we had previously discussed going out that night to celebrate (there was a bar featuring a Billy Idol tribute band!), but by the time we checked in and made it to our room, we were exhausted, so going out was out of the question. 

Our room.  Check out the I Love Lucy set-up of the beds.  It was a small room to be sure, but the super-soft feather beds made up for the size.  See the bed with the big dent in it?  That one was mine.  I pretty much flopped down on the bed as soon as we got in, only to get up to take this picture.

The view from our window.  Sadly, we did not have a view of the Danube; it is on the other side of the hotel.  The street in the foreground is Dorottya utca; if you follow it down, well, over my stomach, it leads to Vorosmarty ter.  More on that place later.

One of the things I love most about traveling overseas is finding out which American TV shows are in rotation, and Duna TV had its finger on the pulse of current U.S. programming with its broadcast of Moonlighting.  Look at how much hair Bruce Willis had back then!  Look at how much of a career Cybill Shepherd had back then!  By the way, this was the Christmas episode featuring special guest star Richard Belzer.  Awesome.  Rock the Belz, indeed.

My birthday dinner: a salad and a grilled panini with mozzarella, tomatoes and basil from room service.  Isn't room service delightfully indulgent?  I mean, once you look past the spending four dollars for a soda part?

The hotel lobby.  Pretty, no?  There is a term for this type of hotel design - is it courtyard-style?  Anyway, whatever it is, I don't like it.  I prefer my room to open up to a byzantine hallway and not the great wide open where everyone can see in. 

Just so you know, Mr. Bear wants a feather bed of his very own.

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More tomorrow - this time with actual sightseeing!

Day 1: The Plane That Time Forgot

No way!  Could it be?  Why, I think it is!  I'm finally writing about the vacation!  Who's been eagerly waiting for this travelogue?

:: crickets ::

Okay, FINE.  I've kind of put this off, I know.  Anyway.  Shall we begin?

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December 28: LAX-Amsterdam

I'll be honest: the trip did not start well.  That is not because we weren't excited about going to Europe nor because we weren't getting along.  It all has to do with damn KLM Royal Dutch Airlines.  Really.  Has anyone ever flown on KLM and had a good experience, because I'd like to know what that was like.

We were flying from LAX to Amsterdam (yay, Amsterdam!) and then transferring planes to go to our first stop, Budapest.  We got to the airport with our massive suitcases in tow (mine was large enough to hold a small body while Jen had two) and got in a long-ish line to check in.  When we were second in line to get to the counter, the KLM RDA employee at the front of the queue (her name was Beverly in case you were wondering; I'll never forget her - you'll see why in a minute) asked if anyone had e-tickets, and if so that we could check in at a self-service kiosk.  We had said e-tickets so we made our way to the kiosk, which (dun dun DUN) would not let us check in.  Bah.  This isn't going well, is it?  Hmph.

Jen and I went back to the front of the line (which had grown considerably in size) and I approached Beverly, who by this time was behind the counter checking in a passenger.  I stayed a courteous distance away from the person she was assisting and when there was a break in their conversation, said "Excuse me?" to her.  You know, since she was the person who told us to use the kiosk in the first place.

Beverly, without looking up from her monitor, hissed (I am not exaggerating, people - she hissed at me) "WHAT?!"  For REAL.

I was gobsmacked for a second and gave her a total "Oh no you DI-INT!" face, which she didn't see because she WASN'T EVEN LOOKING AT ME.  I gritted my teeth and asked, "Excuse me?  You told us to check in at the kiosk and it wouldn't check us in.  Do we have to get - "

Beverly: "You'll have to get back in line."

Me: "May I ask why?  We have already waited in line and YOU told US to use the kiosk, which would not let us check in.  Can you please - "

Beverly: "No, it's POLICY.  You'll have to get back in line again."  Again, she said this without even looking at me, I swear.

Me: "So you can't even help us now even though we followed YOUR directions not five minutes ago?"

Beverly: "No - get back in line."

AAUGH. 

So get back in line we did, and after another 30 minutes or so of waiting (ugh), we were checked in (thankfully not by that Beverly woman) and on our way to our gate, which was I think about 1000 miles away.  Sigh.  (Celebrity Sighting Alert: we saw Hurley at the airport and my first thought was, I wonder how many times people look at him when he's boarding their plane and hope to God it's not a sign.)

Look, everyone!  It's my favorite and faithful travel companion, Mr. Bear!  You know I wouldn't go anywhere without him, right?  Here he is waiting at the gate, still perturbed by our treatment at check-in. 

Forty-five minutes or so passed, and it was time to board our plane.  Now, when an airline calls for passengers to board, the norm is to have sections board at a time so that it's not some free-for-all with no organization whatsoever, right?  Well, it appears KLM Royal Dutch didn't get that memo, because when they opened the gate, they just advised all passengers to board AT THE SAME TIME.  Oh, yeah.  That was fun.  That was REALLY FUN.  It was even more fun when we got to our seats and found this:

There were NO INDIVIDUAL TV SETS, people.  God, I know that makes me sound like a total princess, but when nowadays when nearly every airline offers in-flight personal TVs (especially on transcontinental flights) and you don't have your own TV on which to play Tetris for hours and hours (okay, that's just me), you have the right to get a little huffy.  Also?  KLM Royal Dutch Airlines?  You seriously need to work on your legroom.  We were - no joke - packed in like sardines for the entire flight.  It was a nightmare.  Jen and I got up ONCE during the flight to use the restroom, and that was because the woman in the aisle seat (a kindly older Dutch woman) got up one time and we couldn't get around her otherwise.  I'm surprised we didn't develop deep vein thrombosis. 

I would have taken more pictures while en route to but I could not because I literally could not bend over to reach my bag and get my camera.  Which was probably a good thing, anyway, because there was no room for my giant camera except for in my bag.  I couldn't even take pictures of my food (it rates a 6 out of 10 - KLM at least offered a nice breakfast which included granola and a yummy yogurt), and you know how much I love doing that.  I was at least able to take out my knitting and get started on my second Le Slouch, but again, no camera means no pictures of the hat in progress, at least not on the flight.  Stay tuned for photos of the Budapest Slouch!

I took this picture once we landed.  You'll notice the wee little TV on that wall far, far away.  That was our ONE source of entertainment and - wouldn't you know it? - we were stuck with the goddamn Nanny Diaries, people.  GOD.  I should be thankful, though, because at least it wasn't Match Point.  Anyway.  The TV on the wall was what led Jen to describe our mode of transport as The Plane That Time Forgot - an inspiring name if there ever was one. 

Oh, see those people standing in front of the TV?  The dude sat in front of me and the woman leaning against the wall sat in front of Jen.  They kept their seats in full recline FOR THE ENTIRE FLIGHT.  I am NOT KIDDING.  We were so pissed.  By the time we got to Schiphol (Amsterdam's major airport), we wanted to DRAW BLOOD.  Oh my GOD. 

So, lessons learned today: don't fly KLM Royal Dutch Airlines, but if you do and if you fly out of LAX, by all means avoid Beverly because she'll snap at you.  Bitch.

More tomorrow on our second day of travel, which just happened to be my birthday!

Vacation Preview

I promise to start writing about the trip this week - I am still sorting through all the pictures and getting my Hungarian and Czech ducks in a row. In the meantime, please enjoy this teaser photo of Mr. Bear on the train.

(Photo taken by me on January 2nd.)

Vacation Preview

Just one photo from our trip:

Taken by me in Budapest on December 31.

Stay tuned...

Observations On Baggage Carousel Behavior

(Or, What I Did While I Waited For The Luggage)

1. Why do people, if they see their luggage pass them as it makes its rounds on the belt, feel compelled to break into a mad dash to catch up to it? I saw it happen at least six times. Don't they realize it's going to come back to them?

2. Why does everyone hover over the carousel as if they were cold and it was the only heat source available? No one can see any bags coming or going if everyone's blocking everyone else's view, plus all that crowding makes it hard to pull your bags off the belt.

3. Speaking of, I like seeing people help others when they are trying to grab their bags. Since the bag is moving somewhat quickly, inevitably the person standing behind the person going for the luggage lends a helping hand. It gives me a wee bit of hope for the human race.

4. Those SmarteCartes could really use foot-applied brakes (like on strollers) so that they won't roll out from under the luggage when you're trying to load them. At least the ones at LAX do; I don't know if the carts at other airports are equipped with them.

5. Seriously, people, BACK AWAY FROM THE CAROUSEL.

I took this picture of a baggage carousel at San Francisco International Airport. See that clever border created by the stripe of off-white carpet? It's a subtle hint for everyone to keep a clear space around the belt! I love it! Now if only people would heed it.

(Update: I reckon I'll start writing about the trip in a few days, so stay tuned! That is, if you are interested.)

Yet Another Reason Why I Cannot Talk About The Trip Right Now

Dear American Airlines,*

Thank you.

Thank you for wasting FIVE FUCKING HOURS of my life last night as I waited and waited and WAITED for our luggage to arrive at LAX. I called in advance (only to be told that I was not in fact given a proper locator number and that I did not have any claim on file at all, even though I TOTALLY CALLED TO FILE A CLAIM LAST NIGHT WHILE AT THE AIRPORT), waited in the queue (which has never been short, I'm sure) to talk to people in person, waited just where said persons told me to wait and watched as the TWO flights our luggage might or might not be on arrive, de-plane (Tattoo: "De plane! De plane!" Sorry, I had to), and leave me almost all alone and COMPLETELY SANS LUGGAGE.

I also want to thank you for the lovely notice I got at MIDNIGHT (yes, it was THAT LATE) from the supervisor (after I harangued her about the whole situation) that - oh, wouldn't you know it? - our luggage in fact DID arrive that day...and that it is in ANOTHER FUCKING TERMINAL. (My response: "You have GOT to be kidding me.") You know, the terminal of the airline we were ORIGINALLY SUPPOSED TO BE ON YESTERDAY. (That would be KLM, by the way. More on that business later.)

Thank you for the same supervisor who, upon my utmost and now very loud (and admittedly limb-flailing) insistence that she call KLM's baggage service department to confirm that our luggage was actually there and not somewhere in the ether, told me that no one was answering any of the numbers, and that I would have to go to the other terminal MYSELF to check on our luggage.

Most of all, thank you for reducing me to tears - HOT HUMILIATING TEARS OF UTTER FUCKING FRUSTRATION - at FUCKING MIDNIGHT as I stood amidst the sea of unclaimed luggage - the sea made up of hundreds of pieces of luggage owned by hundreds of equally frustrated and angry passengers, the TSA-approved sea of Samsonite and Travelpro and American Tourister that BORE WITNESS to my most public display of anger and embarrassment I have ever known.

Finally, thank you for leading me to the Northwest (which handles KLM) baggage service supervisor who politely told me that she because she knew I wanted to procure the luggage at the airport myself, she had flagged it "very clearly" that they were at that terminal and for pick-up, and that if the American Airlines representatives had "just read the computer right" they would have KNOWN THAT. (My response: "OH MY GOD YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!")

I will never fly your airline again, EVER.

* You KNOW there will be another less ALL-CAPS-y and profanity-filled version of this letter going to AA.

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P.S. I did have a celebrity sighting while in my holding pattern: Katherine McPhee at one of the carousels. She is lovely in person. I am also 99% positive I saw Mary Carey (Google her if you don't know who she is, because I'm sure as hell not linking to her website) waiting for luggage, too, but I wasn't sure as her massive fake hoots were all covered up and stuff.

And We're Back

Jen and I are back from vacation but are not ready to talk about it yet, so please refrain from asking us why. Seriously. You don't want to know.

More to come on our trip when I have recovered.