Himalayan Rhapsody. Part 1

Sid Padhi

  

It was a cold evening at a mountainside parking lot for one of those ubiquitous temples one finds at regular intervals throughout the hills and the rest of India. There were the mandatory tea stall and paan-less paan-dukan, both highlighted by the colourful chips packets from rival snacketeers. It even had two motorcycles and a car, besides our taxi. But, most importantly - considering the time of the day, (which was around 5:00pm), the cold from recent snowfall and the constant freeze-breeze, plus a heady feeling from the altitude - there was this warm, merry, crackling and soul-saving fire.  

 Notice that we stand in the shadowed eastern side of the mountain face while the horizon is still lit up by the waning sun. Early evening for us. That's what mountains are. As different and unique in time and space as people and their points of view.

That shining crescent, which could have shone better through more sophisticated lenses, is Bhimtal Lake. We are on the way back from a trip to Mukteshwar Temple further up from where we stand, a trip that had to be aborted due to snowfall and treacherous icing conditions of the road. But, where we failed to have a view and a darshan at Mukteshwar, we gained by a lot of first-hand insight into driving techniques on iced mountain roads and how not to negotiate curves and climbs. 

There was this huge jam at a settlement along the way, where the road turns sharply and slopes upward and to the right. As it turned out, it all started with one wrongly parked car, which slightly altered the smooth flow of the traffic. Thereafter, it took a foolhardy novice from the plains to apply brakes on the descent, where none should have been applied, and skid while trying to negotiate the wrongly parked one. A car climbing up from the opposite direction had to slow down and readjust direction to avoid the skidder and found out too late that he had lost both power and traction for resuming its journey uphill. So, now we had two cars, one helter and the other skelter, besides the original sinner, blocking most of the road. It was only a matter of time before other vehicles started pulling up, the first few filling up all available gaps, and ensuring a tight traffic seal. Our car, when we reached the spot, was around fifteenth from the knot. Plenty of time to wander about and feel the place.

I was pleasantly surprised to see sparrows twittering about on the roadside, pecking at human offerings. It's been literally ages (I was quite young in age then) since I had seen one, let alone so many. More about them at a later date.

Having first procured a pack of cigarettes, I proceeded to investigate the chaos and add my two-bit to the solution. 

[Lessons learnt from my first few steps on the iced road can be spared elaboration for the sake of brevity, as the bullet points are self-explanatory.]

1. Stay off the ice. For, although I had on my trekking shoes with their much professed grip on rocky surfaces, they proved to be thoroughly inadequate in tackling the icy paths created by the pressure vehicular treadmarks and polished by indiscriminate braking and the resultant skids.

2. Dig your heels in. (This came from my personal experience at Dalhousie, where I was posted once upon a time. A little digression here to elaborate my point - My SSQ (Station Sick Quarters) was located at a distance of roughly 150 feet in the vertical plane. The flight of steps that took me up and down them twice a day were of uneven height, curve and slope. You could break your neck on them on a bright summer day if you would, for example, try a carefree tune while appreciating the fluffy clouds. In the winter, with snow on them, looking down while descending was a matter of survival. You had to choose where to put that next step. Fresh snow provides sufficient traction & grip. Stepping repeatedly on your own footsteps hardens the spot into reliable footholds. The problem is when there is a lot of traffic. The entire surface is soon coated with an inch thick ice layer. And that is when you dig your heels in. Much like marching. Land on your toe and away you go). This strategy worked.

3. Avoid sudden movement.

During the period of my meditative preoccupation, people had gathered in groups and were lending their hand by throwing their weight around, in a bid to push the stuck cars out of their miserable inadequacy. It was both educative and amusing to watch how Newton's physics antagonized inexperience. 

There are several issues involved in the problem of driving a car up a serpentine, icy slope with zero momentum. It is an intricate combination of correct engine revs, controlled clutch release and wheel direction for gaining some purchase out of ice crust and miniscule tyremark ridges. A straight takeoff is almost impossible and spinning tyres lose control. Nothing is gained by hurrying.

Not surprisingly, most of the vehicles in the soup had Delhi numbers. 

Back to business. I had thus far been a passive but keen spectator of the events unfolding before my eyes. A few sidelong glances came my way from volunteers who had taken a few falls in the line of selfless public service. They perhaps grudged my nonchalant mood and my propensity to lend my hands to photography than to them. The officer in me kicked in. I sallied forth to the top of the tangled formation and caught up with a hapless Home-Guard who was having a hard time being heard. I gave him a tip. Not the currency but the verbal kind. 

"Clear a path and allow all vehicles going downhill first passage. It would allow more maneuvering space for the ones below and a less uphill task". 

He looked askance at me, trying to decide whether he should take me seriously. Apparently, he did. His reply, when it came, was in the form of frantic gesticulations followed by incoherent speech. I discovered that he had a bad stutter, made worse by a nasal twang. A partial cleft palate, most likely. It seemed he agreed with me and his grievance was that the people who mattered, the Good Samaritans, did not listen to him. I understood and could only empathise, my empathy magnifying when he found in me someone, who wouldn't lend others a hand, lending him a ear and gave vent to his vocal chords, alternately through oral and nasal routes. I nodded in sync with his passion until he remembered that duty was calling and left abruptly to attend to an overladen Maruti Alto that was pointing towards the valley. I remained rooted at the spot, processing the inconsequential contents of the recent interaction before moving on uphill. I kept walking until my car picked me up, a few kilometres on.

To be continued…

Snowpocalypse 2019 : In a Lighter Vein

Snowpocalypse 2019 : In a Lighter Vein

Mick (Mrigank) Das 

This is an off-the-cuff piece started on my bus commute and finished during a meeting where my full attention was not entirely necessary, but my presence was... it is barely edited so excuse any foibles. The title is sardonic and somewhat self-deprecating yet with a large dollop of probity.   This blog tries to capture the madness that ensues when people and local government authorities have to react to the really cold weather descending from the Canadian valleys, the purveyors of almost mystical wintry fronts evocative of Disney's Frozen franchise.. 

The first of these snowfall events happened on a Friday and the subsequent ones happened on a couple more days between Feb 5 - 12… For perspective, the snow that Seattle got would be considered by many in the Midwest cities like Minneapolis or Chicago as a springtime dust-up in a park lined with cherry-blossoms worthy of indulging in outdoor frolic,  but for Seattlelites it was time to constantly flit between panic and anxiety and utter a stream of OMGs and expletives to temper their quickening pulse rates. Fortunately the city's burgeoning economy has attracted people from much more hostile climates, so by day 2 or 3 of this weather,  kids could be seen influenced by their buddies who grew up in more snowy weather sledding down blocked-off downhill roads or any steep topographical structure they could land their bums on…  

The days preceding the Snowpocalypse were the most hilarious, especially in the grocery stores. Grown men and women whose body shapes hardly resembled a finely chiseled Olympian were rivaling the form of Usain Bolt down the aisles of supermarkets to theatrically grab away such prosaic items like a case of dozen brown eggs.  Just like Olympic Gold and Silver separates the last bit of skill and will,  the silver medalist came away with the last of the white eggs, prompting a rather beatific smile and fist pump from the winner and a more subdued but still smug grin of the runners up who pipped the also-rans who had to think of which store they must venture to next… :) Bread and cereal aisles were a close second in witnessing the athletic display of the common folks.  Men and women were showing their dexterity in being able to cradle a veritable loot of loaves of bread, gallons of milk, a bottle of OJ and a couple of bags of pasta…!! Several shopping carts proudly showcased a half dozen boxes of their favorite family cereal and large quantities of bottled water which would normally be a two month supply!!

I wasn't immune to this bedlam of last minute emergency shopping. I was singularly focused on finding two more Bic lighters - these are the gas lighters you use to light up the gas cooktops.  Mimi was down to her last one, and the last Bic was already used for a while. It was a race against Father Time… I went from one store to the next with my kid and the treasured commodity was out….I doubt the Conquistadores were seeking gold in the Inca lands with such fervor and frenzy.  It was a chess match; where would the hordes go to find the Bic lighters that I should not :) :) ..  Finally kazaam!! -- the light bulb went off.  I figured out a possible option - a drugstore named Bartells which wasn't under mob siege as a possible place.  It was next to a Safeway and a Trader Joe's, two grocery stores which were attracting heavy traffic. So I went in there and I encountered bitter disappointment in the aisle which had the kitchen and housewares. Nothing.. Nada.

 At this deflated juncture I did walk very very s-l-o-w-l-y past some hard liquor and single malts and I was temporarily tempted to fall into the charms of the amber liquid as many of '83 friends do… I really was; maybe it would get me back up from being forlorn to being on a High!   As I listlessly walked back past the store checkout clerks I saw by the corner of the last checkout person, a small tilted display case of 3 rows of gleaming Bic lighters!!!! Only 7 remained… but I only needed two, so elation and jubilation supplanted the dire mood I was in.

On the flip side, beauty was on display too… Disney's Frozen embodied. At night, one friend remarked that the photos looked like Thomas Kinkade paintings… and they did. In the mid-day, it was a great thrill to walk around in the neighborhood and feel the vibe of a wintry wonderland, and click a couple of pictures for memory. The streets lined with trees looked beautiful like you were seeing a movie screen shot of a colder city with the beautiful frosting on the tree branches, a painting with bold brush strokes of white and off-white framing the familiar landscape in an ornate cape of ivory..  Local news was also extremely riveting; the best part was laughing at the brave yet foolhardy few who ended up in ditches, or rolling back off a hill with the braking system of scant succor...  

Human behavior also lent its entertainment power.  I saw at least a couple of adults with their supercilious confidence step out of their cars, or run towards their bus home and run into a surface of slick ice and take an ungainly tumble.  You also saw the grace in the fellow citizens; valiantly grappling to squash their urge to laugh at the plight of the fallen and instead mutter their civil inquiries as to their well-being and genteel offers of help to pick them off the turf and retrieve their strewn belongings. 

This wraps my little column on the snowy ten days in the third coldest February in the Emerald city's history of recorded temperatures. Leave a tRail :) if you wish… Thanks

I like to remember

Sipra Pati

Remember

Those nights when we lay on the terrace

Counting stars

Spinning yarns of make-believe

Listening to the rustle of the coconut trees

As the summer breeze tugged at them

The lone bat swooping down,

Swerving at the last minute

When its sensors picked up our voices

From afar the strains of a song from someone’s radio

And miles above… a soundless steel bird with flickering lights

Headed to foreign skies…

our minds and tales following it

the soft thud of a falling fruit in the neighbor’s garden

there was a rhythm, maybe not quite…

but dopamine it was.

For even now – forty summers past

(or thereabouts)

When I go there… a lazy smile on my lips

The same summer breeze brushes my cheek

Pushing an errant lock into my eyes

I hear my dog’s contented sigh (at a doggie dream, perhaps)

the off-tune voice of a worker cycling home from a long day

the ring of his bicycle bell

(maybe just whimsical… who’s on the road anyways)?

Purpose-free nights

They were

A colloquy with freedom of a different kind

Naïve I choose not to be

To yearn for time travel.

I don’t know about you.

But me – I just like to..

Remember.

Viva Mexicana - Escape from Winter

(In keeping with the current spirit, Unedited... pardon any slip ups) 

The turquoise waters of the Caribbean,

The friendly coconut trees piercing the azure sky

Vainly sometimes trying to ward off an occasional sneak attack

Of billowing clouds and a musty smelling downpour

Never lingering long enough to deter the holidaying denizens

Moon Palace is the name of this singular establishment

That thrusts a pina colada in my face even at registration

Senor Ola, Ola Senor as the natives aim to please at every turn

Eager infusion of beaming anticipation in our party

Massages, Manicures, Pedicures and shrimp tacos

Spacious and immaculately appointed pool area

Beckons from the back patio of our 'garden suite'

The swim trunks and bikinis abound around the pool

The well-endowed flashing skin to impress, often successfully

The less well-endowed following suit, albeit an exercise in bravado

Relaxation is the name of the game in this shangri-la,

Me and A go around the ground with great abandon,

Crepes are dished out to us, chocolate and strawberry

We savor some and we waste some, all without a care

Ordering fancy lattes and éclairs, some to eat and some to hoard

At a distance of 40 yards from my suite, no greater than two cricket pitches' length

Was the shimmering sea in solemn grandeur

With a few sailboats, canoes and the board paddlers

To take mundane concerns and gently peel them off

Until that magic sense of equanimity descends

Where you feel one with nature, a wondrous childlike solitude in a green canoe

The afternoon sky is a blemish-less sapphire,

The sea like a pretty lady clad in an emerald dress inlaid with frothy white lace

The last stray thought that straggles, is my cellphone safe with teenage Tony in the canoe shack,

And a little touch of gratitude for the affable bearded Brazilian from Boston that clicked me

Evenings are equally languid with the descent of the setting sun

Making a Picasso out of the sky and the tropical foliage

Soothing shades of orange, yellow and red bathe the recliners on the beach

Occupied by bikinis and swim trunks that support the shapely and the shapeless

And a gentle breeze assuages the sun-kissed visage and weary legs of the four of us

The evening's entertainment is just outside the gates

Impostor or not, the great Michael Jackson gyrates and moon-walks

The kiddo is elated and makes a physical investment in impromptu dance moves

The popcorn and the churros come gratis by the subservient wait staff

Aiming to please, as they are eager to see these tourists return with fatter wallets

All the travails that were undertaken to make this sojourn happen are brushed aside

Expired passports renewed by mental contortions and divine intervention

Just this joyous milieu where everyone and every being seems happy and boisterous,

Even the braggadocios cats that lick off the room service plates outside closed doors,

Seem contented that the vagaries of life are in abeyance, and romance is in the air

Postmarked Seville

Sipra Pati

Almazen Café, Seville, Spain, May 23, 2018

By myself post-lunch… time to kill after spending two and half hours wandering in the delightful alleys of Seville. Found this café – colorful chalk-written blackboard announcing its beverage and tapas fare. Freshly-squeezed orange juice – cool, not cold - feels like a liquid savior. Mismatched chairs, stools, couches that had seen better days, floor cushions on wooden benches… tables keeping up with the lack of coordinated décor. Very few people – all young – laptops and iPads up – a place to study – can very well imagine my daughter here - alternating her attention intermittently between books, laptop and phone screens. No fans or air conditioning. Yet this place was cool. Like the orange juice I am drinking.

The outside – the cobbled and the brick-lined alleyways; the sidewalks with the neatly-laid out table and chairs is such a thriving space – it makes you feel like everyone is on a perpetual holiday. Yes… the mornings through bulk of the afternoon is littered with tourists – a different energy – languid, anticipation and excitement. The purposeful gait helps discern the native Sevilliano.

Dana Francisquito. Trattoria Bar and Pizzeria, Seville, Spain. May 24 am, 2018.

So much for its name, we walked into this place because its menu proclaimed Paella – the traditional Spanish rice dish. A glass of Sangria for me even though it is not a typical hot day. The wind that blows through the narrow alleyways has a touch of ice to it. But the sun beams its heat through the thick cloud cover. It’s good again.

Around me I hear people conversing in different languages. Everyone’s a visitor. So it seems. I hear some British English, some Bengali reached my ears, perhaps Italian from the table next to ours, a person walking by talking into his phone in Hindi, a shaky merci beaucoup from an elderly French lady, and so many more tongues that my aural sense could not discern. Families, couples, retirees, school children, University and college students, tour groups… just about every kind of visitor. Languages so different, but expressions and intonations dead giveaways. Excited chatter, confusion, apprehension, aah… comprehension, delight, awe, lost, hunger, irritation… just about every tourist-in-a-new-place feeling.

The alleyways of Seville, Spain, alongside Alcazar. May 24 pm, 2018.

Smells of coffee, shrimp, fries, fresh-squeezed orange juice, fresh bread, roasting almonds, caramelizing sugar… my olfactory nerves are in a tizz.

Time to get started on my walk back to Recarerdo Street. My feet will feel the unevenness of the cobbled street and brick-lined alleys; climb onto narrow sidewalks and back on the street. My eyes will take in the colors of the walls and the angles of the alleys, the flowers and foliage spilling over miniscule balconies, the open doorways allowing glimpses into tiny courtyards overpowered by dense foliage and religious niches, smells of lavender, orange and other exotic aromas would entice my senses. Chirping birds… I will hear the parrots and swallows and see them too… the parrots’ green prominent before becoming one with the dense foliage of the trees once alien to this land. The shadows of the buildings will protect me from the intensity of the sun, and once I hear the tweets of the parrots, I will see the alleys open up into broad streets where the buildings will not deter the sun’s rays from activating my sweat glands as it shines down through the clouds (which I am told was rather unusual for the season).

Charlotte GastroBar, Cadiz, Spain, May 25, 2018

The other side of the Atlantic. The skies. The skies. The impeccable blue with the not-so-soft-cotton-candy, not-all-white, some grey, not-seemingly threatening clouds. The blue, the green, the emerald, the undefinable blue green aquamarine of the waters… the shadows of the clouds rendering the water a tad teal. The warm silvery sands, the sea breeze, now cold now not, young lithe bodies shimmering with wisps of clothing, shrieks of joy from some in the water, sea gulls not soaring… the cold cold waters chilling the toes. Before the shivers can pass through… refreshedness filling one’s being. Red seaweed washing ashore. Gentle breakers. An errant one soaking me beyond my ankles. Sand clinging to my wet feet. Then that seemingly innocent grey cloud sneaked up and opened up. Bodies scrambling feet scampering towels hastily thrown around, rushing into a bar. Five minutes – that was all. The clouds sniggered laughing at us. The sun shone down again on the blue, once again resplendent. Charlotte Gastrobar beckoned. White chairs and tables. Chitter-chatter from under the garden umbrellas. A hot Americano in a delicate china cup.

On Rains...

Rajesh Srivastava

   

Rain! 

Yeah, She does

And how!

Not now

'Cause YOU need

Somehow!

All She follows 

Is Science

Precipitation.

Not Exasperation

Or, EXHILARATION.

Downpour

Blizzard

Storm, Typhoon or just

Drizzle or mizzle

Are names YOU gave

She doesn't care!

Howsoever scanty

It'd rained,

you can't deny.

Quenching is your personal matter

It doesn't matter.

Your arms stretched

You had cried __

'Cause All She follows

Is Science,

Precipitation.

Yet,

to get Drenched Completely

Till Indiscernible

I will await You, until

Eternity.

Day 4: Wien, Wiener, Wienest

by

Mick (Mrigank) Das

This was the day we were asked to beat the roosters; to rise and shine at 7:30 am…. it was an easy chore to accomplish as Vienna or Wien(in German) is a lovely city.  Austrians speak the German language, but they don't like to be identified as Germany's little brother, they have a lot of national pride. The city exudes charm and romance in every street, every alley, every café. Even though there are plenty of tourists milling through the tourist spots, the city doesn't lose its identity.  

The centerpiece for a tourist is Schonbrunn palace, the royal palace of the Habsburg emperors (or at least some of them).  It is a magnificent edifice and gets 10,000 tourists per day…so our goal was to hit the earliest entry that we could, I believe around 8:40 am was our time slot. This was designed to beat the maddening rush that happens even by mid-morning.

Our local guide for Wien was Trudy (Gertrude) who was a middle-aged white lady donning round rimless glasses who looked like a schoolteacher but would crack some surprisingly funny lines that I will try to recall as we go along.  So we wolfed down some breakfast at the Hilton's breakfast buffet and the reliable duo of Dean and Gabor got us off in time a few minutes after 7:30am…. Dean did a bit of herding of the cats to get us underway in time.  Trudy was a great guide… she pointed out some great landmarks like the building that houses the Austrian Symphony Orchestra which is known across the globe for a New Years Eve concert that they conduct every year. She showed us a very old and historic College of Arts which denied admission to Hitler three times, and thus the course of history was changed forever; instead of a mediocre painter living in obscurity he became one of history's most evil dictators responsible for extracting an incredibly sad price on humanity!!! - what was the admissions committee of that college thinking? :)  

She showed us some other buildings too like the Opera House, key museums etc.. Some of them we will come back to later.  She did her part to give us a thumbnail sketch of the two most famous musically-inclined sons of Austria; one adopted from Germany: the philandering genius Mozart and the son of the soil and inventor of the Waltz, Johann Strauss. Everyone on the coach was excited like little kids to check off our bucket list the famous Schonbrunn palace.

When we finally got to Schonbrunn it lived up every bit to its reputation… Gabor dropped us off and vanished. We had a couple of hours at the palace… Our first glimpse was of this cream-yellow colored classical palace that cut a huge swathe across the horizon with rows upon rows of french style windows… it was set back from the road by extra wide double wrought iron gates with some imposing feline motifs on both sides …

All of us in the tour group hastily gathered up our hand bags and were eager like kids visiting a hallowed candy store… selfie sticks were retrieved, mobile phones were busy and picture taking was underway.  Meanwhile Trudy and Dean were like schoolteachers on a field trip… forcing us to hurry up, telling us there will be plenty of time later to take pictures (it turns out it was and it wasn't, there is never enough time to cover everything Schonbrunn has to offer, but we got enough to call it good).  They were very eager to get us in to our 8:45 am slot to do the interior tour of Schonbrunn, which of course Trudy was going to anchor.  It was a magnificent place to be sure… except no photography is allowed inside the palace;  on the grounds outside one can click to their heart's content. [ Schonbrunn Palace front - Fig 1,  Schonbrunn Palace rear gardens - Fig 2]

The palace really had the imprint of Maria Theresa, the famous empress and the most popular ruler of the Habsburg dynasty.  She wasn't supposed to rule, except her French husband didn't really want to rule either, he was more into business and finance.. .and left her to rule the empire. The banquet halls were fit with spectacular chandeliers made of real Bohemian crystal from neighboring Bohemia (part of the modern Czech Republic which I will come to in a later installment).  This was a real palace… there were secret trapdoors which would let the royalty to quickly get out of the palace instead of walking all through the various gargantuan rooms. One thing that was remarkable… a lot of décor like vases and tapestry were from China.

Trudy was a good wisecracker.  She mentioned that Maria Theresa hosted a lot of parties; since there were no electric bulbs invented in those days.. .when the candles were almost out, it signified that the party was over. So the length of the candles gave a hint to the guests as to how long the Empress wanted the party to last before people had to disperse!!  The one thing though, the palace is not well ventilated, so it was hot… with the day outside in the 88-89'F range, people were trying to fan themselves and the palace rooms had a couple of fans sometimes and people that felt the heat (like me) tried to steal a bit of the breeze from the portable fans.  

We passed through some other rooms including one that looked like a bedroom but really wasn't used to sire her sixteen kids...Trudy cracked us up by asking us what the bed was meant for.  It was a huge ornate bed with satin sheets and many throw pillows and a color-coordinated canopy, but it was really used as a diwan by the empress to hold court with her confidants and senior advisers in a comfortable position of semi-recline; apparently the French royalty had introduced this particular fashion statement to the other European ruling classes.

We also went through a room which had some old rifles, and a couple had scopes on them. Trudy made a crack about Maria's hubby being severely myopic and that Dick Cheney could have used the same on his guns (a reference to Cheney's well known hunting fiasco).  Only one bomb ever came through the ceiling of Schonbrunn during the second World War... fortunately it rolled in but didn't explode; the ceiling damage was repaired and it was a minor blip compared to what might have been an unmitigated disaster. 

Once the palace tour was done tourists were conveniently funneled out through the gift shop -- in tourist areas, commerce is never an afterthought -- it is always blended in seamlessly to entice the tourist to distance themselves from her (or his) pocket money :). Since I couldn’t take pictures inside the palace, I bought a packet of postcards with interior photos of Schonbrunn; later Gate 1 also gave us a calendar with Schonbrunn ambience as the theme, so I have enough mementos of this splendid royal dwelling of yore. There were several tour groups going through the palace; some didn't even have guides but audio tours with earpieces; the mind boggling retinue of tourists through this venue is now a major cash cow for the Austrians; if you want to sell history, you gotta have some eye-popping munificence to peddle.

The outside of the palace was really awesome too.. The gardens were a pleasantly stupefying iridescence of flowers, shrubbery and lawn props all laid out with a tremendous display of landscaping as a form of art.  The nearest thing I could recall in my life was a when I was a young kid and my parents had taken me to the Mysore gardens. I took some pictures in the garden, and the distinct geometrical patterns of squares and ovals of flower beds and shrubbery - were a nice backdrop; not a big fan of selfies I asked a cute korean couple, a japanese gentleman, a chinese lady - it was a delightful pan-global cooperation to save your mug for posterity amidst the manicured vegetation.  There was a hillock at the back of the palace, which I didn't get the chance to climb up… we were given some fixed times by which to return to the spot where Gabor was gonna bring the coach back and it was too risky…,  I thought I had time the next day to come back but never did, because some other places took precedence.  Maybe next time! 

After Schonbrunn, Gate 1 had scheduled a city walking tour with Trudy… it started from the city center St Stephens Church to the Museum Quarter. It was real fun to walk the streets of Vienna along with other tourists and we got glimpses of the famous Mozart Café, and the other Royal Palace or something, which had a spectacular fountain up front - I kinda lost the narrative of which building was what, they all looked beautiful; the constant chatter in my ear was getting a bit tiresome, so I just silenced it and read the signs and soaked in the ambience. The city tour was real nice… despite the guide's blah blah blah. After that I personally skipped out of a tour called the Crypt of the Habsburgs.  I am not a real fan of crypts and mausoleums so I gave that optional tour the wide berth. So did the 65 year old lady from Boca Raton, Linda.  So both of us decided to have a late lunch alfresco in one of the many outdoor cafés that Vienna is famous for and then head out to a museum by walking.  I must have walked several miles a day;  I was complaining about that to a friend who remarked how come the gym fit body is getting weary of walking?  Good point… I complained more than it really affected me; or it is a good ole American trait to complain about walking, when I can play racquet sports for hours without even batting an eyelid :) … [This are city center awesome government buildings, during the city walk.. their names

slips my mind] 

Anyway,  we ate out at a café on our pedestrian rally from the Hilton Stadpark to the city center in a colorful little side street; I had a seafood salad and some kinda Italian coffee drink… chatted with Linda a bit. She was divorced and single Jewish lady, with three grown up kids, but looked very fit and energetic. Very interesting point of note was one of her kids, a daughter was Editor-in-Chief of a very famous US magazine called INC which features stories about Entrepreneurs and Start Ups. Editor-in-Chief is a CEO type role; very influential.  Due to her Jewish background, she always went a bit out of the way from the rest of the tour group to see Jewish quarters and booked outside tours to go through places which featured in the horrifying genocide that Jews underwent during World War II.  She and I got along fine;  she wasn't pretentious or redneck-ish.  She had a good idea to visit the Leopold museum, home to one of Austria's most well-known painters Gustav Klimt - well known for his painting the 'Kiss' and considered a very bold painter who wasn't afraid to mix in some erotic themes in his paintings, although he wasn't alone in that regard. [ view of a Vienna square, near the lunch cafe)

So after lunch at the café we soldiered on by foot towards the museum quarter.  After walking a few miles and even stopping at a Tourist Information office, we came upon a square where a museum stared us right in the face!!!  It was the Albertina, which our guide Trudy had pointed out during our morning sojourn to the Schonbrunn. By that time, I had the itch to actually do something instead of walking around aimlessly… so I suggested to Linda to hit the Albertina instead of walking a couple of more miles to the Leopold. She agreed to it, so we went in and it turned out to be one of the best choices we made.

The Albertina was loaded and for about 13 euros I personally felt it was very cheap compared to the fare it offered - more so because we got incredibly lucky as two temporary exhibitions were going on along with the permanent ones;  Pablo Picasso, Claude Monet,  Marc Chagall,  Gustav Klimt, Henry Lavasque, Paul Gaugin..  The galleries were full of originals that cost millions of dollars… and featured the who's who of painters - the number of Picassos they had was very impressive!!. Absolutely loved it!!!  And I am not even much into it…. This was one of the highlights of Vienna in my opinion… After spending a couple of hours in the Albertina, I felt very satiated as a tourist.  It was a good feeling, and I highly recommend it to anyone headed to Vienna.  Next time, I will hit the Leopold, although we did see a couple of Klimts even at the Albertina.  The Picassos showed the genius of the cubist mastermind,  Marc Chagall was an impressionist maestro,  Claude Monet and Henry Lebasque brought their usual French flair to their paintings... [Picasso on top - 'Mediterranean Scene', Marc Chagall - 'Girl in a dream']

After the Albertina,  Linda wanted to go a Jewish museum in the north side of the city.  I debated about seeing the Freud museum, which the aforementioned friend had been to, but Dean kinda talked me out of it. He said it was just a regular flat where Freud lived with a few of his personal artifacts and it was on the opposite side of the city - nothing really grandiose like the history of psychoanalysis or such. I still would have, if the distance wouldn't have been a barrier.  So I skipped and decided to head back to the Hotel and get myself some authentic Austrian beer, company or no company..   I did not want to walk back :) - had enough.  So I asked a tourist information booth and headed down to the nearest tube station.  There I found a very vivacious Polish girl in her twenties and her aunt - and just struck up a conversation with them, mainly to figure out how to use the tube line. She and her aunt were very nice… maybe they discerned a mixture of intellect, charm and a warm personality,  which is not uncommon ;)…- anyways they helped me figure out how to get a 24 hour pass and which way to go… It was quite easy really.  

I found the right blue line going towards my hotel and in about 4 minutes was at the Mondi mall underground stop;  instead of walking several miles.  When I entered the hotel I ran into Andrew and his mom. Andrew was the American University sophomore who is studying International Relations - he and I struck up a good rapport almost instaneously.  I had a very nice day in Vienna; all I wanted to do now is to take in the early evening at leisure and have a beer in a café and do some people watching.  So Andrew and I headed out to an outdoor pub a few blocks from the hotel and ordered ourselves some large helpings of Stiegl, an Austrian beer.  The clientele at the pub were really well dressed, much more so than the US; more style, more oomph… not as casual.  The Stiegl went down real smooth…  Andrew and me made some plans for the next day Saturday to visit the Naschemarket (only Saturdays)… that was also an incredibly sound decision as we shall see later in the series.

After partaking a couple of Stiegls,  we headed back to the hotel. Andrew and his mom had reservations at some restaurant.  I just went to Mondi mall, had a dinner bowl from a Vietnamese joint at the food court, did a bit of shopping at H&M (a chain department store that I like) and went back to the hotel. Day 4 came to an end; and I was still pinching myself that the pictures I saw of my friend in this city a year earlier was really where I myself was and grabbing the opportunity with both hands and making new friends in the process. 

Day 3: Farewell Budapest, Aloha Vienna

by

Mick (Mrigank) Das

The beginning of Day 3 had a bit of a prelude in Day 2.  A visit to the Hungarian Parliament is not really something you decide on the spur of the moment… well you could, but unless you are a big cheese or you are very lucky it isn't gonna fly.  So the 'optional' excursions on a package tour can usually be booked on the spot at a 10% premium,  but a visit to the Parliament wasn't one of those things where you just took a few extra gold coins out of the pocket and went 'Open Sesame' - there were strict controls on the numbers of people that could pass through during certain intervals and the tour companies had to provide the names and nationalities of their groups.  Joel and I were the ones who had failed to read the fine print… the Hungarian parliament tour requires a 4-day advance notice for security checks.  Guess what?  On the morning of Day 3,  the optional excursion was to the Parliament,  The Great Market Hall and St. Stephen's Basilica …. And both me and Joel were very eager to get those last drops of nectar out of this beautiful city before we made our way to Vienna.  

So somewhere in the afternoon of Day 2,  Joel and me had pleaded our case to Dean as well as a professional attorney could plead that OJ Simpson's hand didn't fit the glove… and Dean was a real nice bloke.  He pulled some strings; it turns out that the Hungarian Parliament is not averse to a few extra shekels, if there were some last minute no-shows; the unfortunate few who had developed mystery ailments or eaten some bad sushi or had wilted under the extreme heat of the previous day.  Anyways, Dean brandished the magic lamp of Aladdin via his mobile phone and got a Genie in the Parliament to get us in!!

After the usual sumptuous breakfast buffet where I stuffed myself quickly we hastily gathered and checked out of our hotel rooms at the Radisson…. People put their luggage in the hotel bag check; I skipped the step and had Gabor put my single suitcase into the coach's cargo hold as we would set off for Vienna after the morning tour, and I didn't really want to mess with the bag check rigmarole.

Then we set off for the Parliament, a building we had seen illuminated in splendor on the night cruise. There was definitely a desire to see more of the inside…. We quickly filed inside under Erna and Dean's guidance, and went through the security check which was about the same as an airport security check.  The Parliament building has awesome interiors… the insides were gilded with 40 kilos of 24-karat gold.  We went through some really ornate archways and usually ended up in these massive high-ceilinged halls and everywhere you looked there were paintings, sculptures and the glitter of gold.. There is no way to describe this magnificence except pictorially. The only place where photography wasn't allowed was in the room with the Crown jewels… beautiful stuff, some pieces were studded with the emeralds and rubies … there was one piece that was a sign of Hungary… it looked like a gigantic crown, not meant for wearing but had inscriptions of the Hungarian kingdom. Apparently it was stolen by the Nazis, but the American soldiers recovered it from the Nazis and it was in the Smithsonian…. During John F Kennedy's tenure, US returned the crown back to Hungary. [The parliament building inside and out) 

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From the gilded grandeur of the Parliament we then made our way to a very different kind of attraction,  an indoor market of mind boggling proportions…listed by CNN as one of the top 5 food markets in the world;  it turns out it had way more than just food… with the rather self-aggrandizing name of 'Great Market Hall'.  It lived up to its reputation every bit!  the stalls were adorned by Pipli style hangings but instead of handicrafts these were edible: sausages of various meats like beef, pork, chicken, turkey of various shapes and sizes; never did catch all their names.  The shops were visually compelling though; some of them with the hanging sausages almost looked right out of some bazaar described in a Harry Potter novel; the vegetable stalls were equally spectacular in displaying their produce of red, green, yellow, brown, white and really every color. The whole market was enclosed in a huge historic building with the gargantuan circular clocks and a gently arched roof of massive size, giving the whole market the feel of energy and passion and human bonding…. Very cool.  The first floor was food, the second floor was occupied by stalls of souvenirs. [The Great Market Hall]

The final stop was St. Stephen's Basilica… to me just another church;  I was kinda done with churches in Budapest, but this one also had a lot of charm…and it happened to be Erna's childhood church. After all this, we briefly returned to the hotel to pick up the rest of the tour-mates' luggage, said our goodbyes to Erna (our local guide for Budapest) and a few tipped her too;  then we all trundled into the bus and around 1pm local time we were on our way through the Hungarian countryside towards the border with Austria. 

The Hungarian freeways are surprisingly good… a bit narrower and mostly two-lane, but the reinforced concrete looked in mint condition and the powerful sleek Gate1 coach was purring along the countryside smoothly and certainly very comfortable ride,  no different than riding in a high-end luxury sedan.  We did stop once before the border for a quick snack/lunch replacement. It was definitely much more happening and the clientele reflected an anti-diaspora;  which was rather stunning for what would be a truck-stop in the US.  The ice-cream is really good in Europe; so are the espressos and other coffees. I think I had both; didn't need lunch and I had grabbed a baguette in the Parliament run.

Dean is really a great tour guide…. The three and a half hour trip to Vienna (broken by a 30 minute recess at the colorful and vibrant truck-stop) was anything but boring. There was a microphone and a PA system on the coach, and Dean really put us in the mood of anticipation to visit Austria and made it so interesting by discussing the hot and burning political topics sweeping through Europe today, the chief among them being of course immigration. I wish I had his email…his tour company didn't allow him to hand it out. 

Dean explained that many of this countries had daily contingent of people coming in from the poorer Arab countries and the African nations for search of better living or escaping dangerous regimes or both.  However European nations, traditionally lenient to immigration from these areas were facing resistance from their citizens; who saw the immigrants as less educated, large families supported by the social welfare budgets of these countries and that was ballooning;  a question he posed was how does a country like Austria with nine million people absorb a million immigrants in less than two years without some serious undercurrents and social burden;  well meaning laws also come under pressure; schooling and university are free in Austria - so the Austrians have to shell out to pay for their schooling and other social services. He also talked about the new Austrian leader,  32-year old Sebastian Kurz, someone who is outspoken enough to put all these new issues out in the open… Austrians are ready to really evaluate what is going on with this and so they elected a  young dynamic Premier.  Borders between countries that were once open are now being closed… anyways, this really makes for a fascinating background. Austria is a rich nation and a financial capital for Central and Eastern Europe… plus a tourist spot; so Dean gave us the heads up that the prices of restaurant food might be even slightly higher than US.  He also spoke highly of the city:  one of the three UN capitals spread across the globe, headquarters of many global organizations etc. etc. very livable and also a very popular destination for conferences and conventions.

When we finally reached Vienna, I got as close to goosebumps as one can get… as an adult there are so many pressures on you from all sides that you miss that exuberance that you feel as a child when a dream comes true… a year and change ago, I was admiring pictures of this beautiful city through the shared posts of a friend; and now by some mercy of the Lord I had to pinch myself that the coach was actually driving into the same city.  I did recapture that childlike exuberance; I started taking pictures of street signs,  I stood up from my seat and craned my neck to take in almost anything…. Baroque buildings, canals, signs on shops and businesses, pretty much anything I could see under slightly overcast conditions…  The Danube wasn't visible…because of flooding issues in the past, Vienna has built a network of canals and pushed the main Danube flow outside on the other side of the city…. We did see it on our way out to Prague which will come in a later installment.

We finally landed up at the Hilton Stadpark which is a really nice location on the South side of the city next to a mall called as the Mondi mall, and also the city park or Stadpark.  It was of course a Hilton, so the quality was good… we had to sit in the lobby for a while around 4pm as the rooms weren't yet sorted out. One great thing about Dean is he always sorted out the rooms and checked us in…   I sat in the lobby of the Hilton and took in the view.  A little gallery of photos showed that international celebrities like Dalai Lama and Charlize Theron had been to this hotel.  The new-fangled melting pot that is Vienna was unfolding right before our eyes.  In the middle of the Hilton's lobby was a very suggestive sculpture of a man and woman intertwined into each other with less clothing than Adam and Eve did.  However around that sculpture many of the wooden tables with padded chairs were occupied by Muslim women in hijab and abayas; it was a contrasting interplay of the permissive and the puritanical that was evident in many different venues over the next three days - and also reflective of the changing composition of Vienna and Austria. [ the Mondi mall, my mainstay for food and shopping in Vienna on the right of the picture]

I finally got my room… on the fourth floor.  It was a corner room  - privacy and decent view. However, I was dead tired…. A lot of walking earlier in Budapest, hardly a nap as on the coach's journey across the border and the high level of excitement had finally gotten to me.  I decided to  have a little look around the lively neighboring streets,  then head to Mondi mall food court and hit a McDonalds, eat at the mall and do some relaxing people watching and then just come back and call it a night - with the intention of encountering Vienna with unbridled energy with all my batteries recharged and leave the fine dining and beer for the next day.  It was a good call

Day 2 - Buda is no Pest

by
Mick (Mrigank) Das

The white envelope that stayed unopened was my first target as a 6:30 am alarm woke me up after about 5 hours of sleep… strangely I felt well rested.  After the long journey,  the plush bed in the Radisson's fourth floor with me and myself ensured that even an abbreviated somnolence was strangely adequate;  I ripped open the envelope and found a nice welcome note from Dean my Serbian tour manager; since I had missed the prior evening's 7:30pm pow-wow in the lobby with the rest of the nineteen tour group members, Dean was thoughtful enough to have written this note.  The first matter of import was the meeting time…  it was 8:30am… reasonable. I was ready by 7:00am because of my excitement level -  I love breakfast buffets.  Bring it on! Muchos gracias.

I proceeded to the first floor where the breakfast café was.  Breakfast buffets makes your heart grow warmer… almost as warm and delicious as a flirtatious exchange with the opposite gender, not quite.. But almost!  There is a certain invitation for a gastronomic conquest… do you start with the juices, do you start with the Italian espresso machine with some very authentic European coffee (a certain friend will scoff and stand by Nescafé), do you dig in to the croissants and scones (red flags galore!) or do you go to the omelet bar and put down a request to the chef in full regalia with the white top-hat to prepare you a nice two-egg omelet with red peppers, onions and mushrooms ?  I forget the order of operations, but I did all three; one could albeit go for the many assorted sausages and meats too (a note to myself that this could be 'Hog' heaven for my bud Subu).. Even some smoked salmon!! (no fishy breath in the morning please). I finished off with some hot food:  sautéed potatoes and red fava beans called foul madammes (a funny name). I might have grabbed a yogurt cup on the way out too…

While I was splurging on the tremendous fare all around the dining room,  I noticed a steady stream of people all wearing the same company badge hanging around their neck trickle in… Out of normal human curiosity I peeked… some Indian girls, some Indian boys were also sprinkled in there… all wearing the same badge.  I was in mild consternation.  Here I was in Budapest,  had maybe seen very little brown skin up until this point. What gives with the Patels, the Dhaves, the Balakrishnans and the Radhakrishnans :) all swarming the Breakfast hall in the Radisson in the center of freakin' Budapest ?

I waited until an opportune moment, when at the table next to me two young girls with the same company badges sat down; not Indian… one was white and the other, the one next to my left a smartly dressed young black girl with carefully coiffured hair at a two-person table, next to my two-person table.  I asked the black girl what is going on… is there a convention or something?  It turns out that GE (General Electric) one of the largest US companies had sent their IT new-hires on a two week orientation camp to Budapest; these folks came from all over the globe.. And it made sense as Budapest was within easy reach of both Asia and US and of course Europe.  The IT angle also explains the liberal helping of brown skin!!  This was their second week and GE was footing the bill.. Nice!  After a casual exchange of words, I said bye to them and headed for my rendezvous with the tour group in the lobby.

I got my first look at the tour group… it was smaller than the usual size, which was actually pretty good as we could stick together well.  There was a big contingent of a single family, a grandma, her two daughters both married to attorneys, and a horde of kids, one high-school girl; one of the daughters was a Pediatric Dentist - oooh la la - the smell of cash :) :). Then a ER nurse (male) from LA Joel whom I got along real well with.. And a few older women….… A mother daughter duo from Milwaukee,  the daughter a high-schooler the mother Linda also a nurse in OT, two ladies from Philadelphia…  one other senior lady was from Boca Raton.  No Indians… the daughter from Milwaukee was an adopted Guatemalan, she kinda looked Indian from the northeastern part - like Manipur, Mizoram types.

For the Gate 1 crew, Dean was an affable, courteous, friendly, in shape mid-forties tour manager - with a shining top singularly devoid of any hair :) ; Super nice-guy, helpful, smiling, always in a good mood and gave a lot of current affairs overview of Europe as the tour went along; Gabor our lumbering giant of a Hungarian driver with a bulging gut, and Erna our local Hungarian tour guide, a slightly overweight, pear shaped, pale-skinned woman who made a living speaking about her country with passion. A bit more about the fellow tour-mates as we go along;  That was the posse!! 

The tour bus was beautiful… a modern bus, painted with the Gate1 logo… two huge cargo holds on both sides for our luggage.  Inside very comfortable executive leather seats in inviting colors of a medium tan with black accents,  nice air-conditioning and modern extras like electrical USB ports to charge your mobile phones in between the seats. Very deluxe…very impressive. Since we were only nineteen, we were able to grab two seats per person and really had extra leg room, hand-bag room.. Whatever.    We were UNDERWAY… right out of the hotel our first stop was to cross the Danube to the hilly Buda side and head for the massive tourist attraction of St. Matthias Church complex. 

The city is divided into two sides split in the middle by the mighty Danube river…which at many points plays as an aquatic cradle for many eastern European capital cities, Budapest being one, Vienna, Prague and Bratislava being others.  The Pest side is where 75% of the population lives and has all the main businesses and offices of government including the parliament. The Buda side is hilly, picturesque and residential… only twenty five percent live there. There are at least two bridges that span the two sides… the one we came across was the Elizabeth bridge.  This is a very old and historic city… there are still old buildings where the German troops stayed; it brings to life a vivid atmosphere if you could walk back in the corridors of time to see that it survived a war of epic proportions with a lot of lives lost.  The history is not all grim though; human beings have an indomitable spirit to laugh, love, dance, sing, paint and build beautiful things and that is on display too.  For example, Andrassy Ave. a tree lined street with some superb buildings whose façade showcases columns, figurines and ornate trimmings on the front side. Apparently in the days of yore, twenty percent of a building's cost on Andrassy had to be allocated towards the façade's decoration which of course led to architects outdoing each other to put the design equivalent of poetry into the frontage of the buildings.

St. Matthias Church complex is atop a hill and is a beautiful spectacular building with surrounding structures of towers, minarets and a statue of the Saint himself on a horse; almost like a warrior saint - an inattentive person could easily mistake it for a Don Quixote statue - all those statues kinda bleed into one another.  We headed into the church's interior - the building has a very interesting history…. For a period of two hundred years it was also a mosque when the Ottoman Turks conquered the region and people did namaaz inside. There is a sculpture of  a crescent and cross combo to denote this aspect right outside.  I went inside and it felt dark and cavernous but also very ornate, with stained glass windows painted with murals of saints and kings;  I didn't pay real close attention to the guide, was just taking it all in visually.  I might have said a silent prayer - it is very possible that potent wishes can organize a small fraction of the world after all :)… After touring the inside of the church, we went out and as you walked around there were spectacular views of the Pest side, the river, the Spires of other churches and the two bridges from atop the hill. I was thankful for having dressed in a soccer shirt and shorts, for the heat was sweltering; even for this time of year, it was unusual for Europe. This year rainfall was short too… the Danube's level was lower than usual and some river cruises were disrupted and the parties had to be diverted to land tours - for the cruise companies it meant heavy losses.

The whole complex had amazing views - the most famous of them being a vista point called Fisherman's Bastion; had I paid attention as a front-bencher to the guide talking through the orange walkie talkie I would have remembered what had fishermen got to do with the Bastion;  but fortunately or unfortunately I paid scant attention to the guide with the volume at level zero but the earplug in my ear out of courtesy and respect to the hardworking, articulate guide; noticed a lot of Chinese tourists… .underscoring their importance as a wealthy superpower whose citizens now have a lot of dough to travel globally and buy houses with wads of cash even in supposedly developed nations like Canada and New Zealand; look out for the Chinese!!  

Next up was Heroes Square, the largest square in BDP and a very popular tourist destination…. Many times in history the citizenry of this city has gathered here for important events, demonstrations etc.  The centerpiece is a huge pillar/tower atop which there is a greenish statue of Angel Gabriel..  On both sides of the central tower, there are Roman style colonnades where Hungarian freedom fighter statues are stood up and also on the base of the center tower the statues of the 7 chiefs of the tribes that originally formed Hungary. On the day we went a substantive horde of multicultural tourists were traipsing through the square, including some deposited by the ubiquitous double-decker Hop/on Hop/off buses bathed in intense sunlight and the temps were around 90'F - but dry heat. The square is flanked by some important museums, the War Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts and one other something…  Such a historic plaza would be rare in the US… some builder would have usurped it with corporate avarice and converted it into a tawdry mall with Starbucks and Nike stores among others. The one funny anecdote that stands out - a young woman in a summer dress was posing for a picture with her toddler daughter… she was being very cavalier in propping the toddler up on one of the ledges at the base of the Gabriel tower. It was very high and had the toddler toppled it would have led to grim consequences. She kept on trying to pose on the lower ledge and held the toddler by one arm;  all the onlookers needless to say were holding their breath at this foolhardy maneuver. Dean has a guttural Serbian accent, very similar to other Slavic languages like German… he said to me ' Meeek,  what du you think aah? Tuuu  day-nge-rous aah?  Eet is tuuu risky, no?  baby might fall… she going tuu far tuu teyk a pikchur no? , Some tu-rists  I tell you…'  vigorously shaking his head in disapproval all the while.. :)

I have to give the nod to our guide Erna... along the way she pointed out several other historic and grandiose monuments and buildings... the City Opera House undergoing repairs, the Royal Palace which had taken three or four bombs in the war but was rebuilt and restored as a museum, the Parliament house which was on our agenda to visit the next day, the Nightlife district called the 7th district where all the night-time party action is and various other attractions all with a very nice and super knowledgeable narrative...  She said now 50% of Budapest's university was comprised of foreign students as the quality was good and they instructed in English;  and several other scientists who went over to US and won nobel prizes etc. 

Once we were done, the bus brought us back to the Pest side and our afternoon was free until the evening, where there was an Optional dinner cruise which you had to pay ninety bucks extra which I did;  Dean told Joel it was a can't miss and Joel told me… Lord knows when I will pass this way again so let's take this, and I was by myself so pull the trigger.. And I am glad I did.

In the afternoon people did their own thing;  Joel, Linda, Zoey and me decided to band together.

Our first walking excursion was to the giant Ferris wheel aptly named the Budapest Eye which was walkable from our Hotel. The Ferris wheel was also the start of Vaci street, the huge mile of pedestrian only street of roadside shops.  We didn't get on the wheel but we came up close to it and had some gelato in the shade of a cafe. It was too hot to get into one of the enclosed modules of the wheel, but the area around was a city park which afforded cafes, people watching opportunities and so forth. Then we did some souvenir shopping along Vaci street and talked. Zoey and I talked a bit about Paris which she and her mom had visited and on my hot list; good kid, she speaks both French and Spanish.  

After all that soaking in of one of the city's prime spots, we decided to come back to the hotel and headed towards the biggest mall in Budapest called West End city center; it was big but underwhelming with mostly chain stores from the US; I come from the land of malls, so ho-hum! However I just chilled out with a strawberry Frappe and a cheesecake from Starbucks and watched languidly from a well-padded and comfy lounge chair with a nice vantage point as a bevy of stylishly dressed and good looking young girls (not too many guys) milled through the joint…  Joel joined me after buying some Hungarian boots; he bought four pairs of boots during the trip - Imelda Marcos passion for shoes seeps through most Filipinos? !  We had a nice time at the Starbucks Joel and me :) - this one was not anything like the regular frumpy ole Starbucks back home.

After heading back to the hotel, refueling a bit with some snacks and water and a short catnap headed down for the finale.  The highlight was the dinner cruise.. Which started around 8 pm - Gabor took us everywhere in royal style, we didn't need to Uber around - the only thing he was being a Scrooge about was water bottles which he kept locked up in a cabinet up front of the bus ( 'only tu bottles per day Meeek' - which irritated me because he hadn't even given even one yet and I had paid good money for the trip; I had a little aside with Dean, and Dean told me to come to him for water next time and skip Gabor -  my relationship with Gabor actually improved dramatically after the first day or so - as I was nice to him, said his name and hello to him in the Breakfast buffet room; he warmed up to me considerably,  no more issues after that.

  The city looked romantic and beautiful after it turned dark. Dinner was a real royal spread; I couldn't eat some of the traditional stuff like Goulash which is like an Indian mutton curry but with beef and eaten almost as a soup, but I tried a lot of the other stuff and some special fish dish was made for me and one other person. There was a lot of fruit, cheeses, stuffed peppers etc. so I ate good. The stuffed peppers were awesome!  Desserts were good; had a bit of champagne too. Talked to some of the other tour people, everyone in a happy, relaxed, carefree mood. 

The real highlight though was on the U-turn and return cruise up towards the dock,  night had set in on the city and the illuminated buildings including St. Matthias Church, the Parliament building, the Royal Palace (now a museum) all were looking spectacular with their night lights. Their reflections were shimmering on the waters of the Danube, golden in color and there was a virtual promenade of light on the edge of the river.  The whole vista was just magnificent and the viewers gallery on the cruiseboat 'Istler' was on the top deck where you could feel the gentle rocking action of the moving waters below, and the sound of the small waves lapping up against the boat's hull in an aria of its own, rhythmically tuneless yet in tune with everything. There was another boat that passed by which is a famous party boat where there was a party on full swing; next time I am in Budapest, will opt for that one, maybe;) -

Well the evening came to a very satisfying end, we headed back to the hotel and turned in for the night…. .but not before Dean had lit the lights of a romantic city in the canvasses of our dreams, one of the top ten richest countries in the World, one of the three capitals of the United Nations, and a powerful financial center for Central and Eastern Europe… along with lot of beautiful and friendly people we hoped; for the  next day at around 1:00 pm,  we were driving across the Hungarian countryside for the beautiful city of Wien as it is called in German, or its regular name Vienna.