I had not slept in two days when I knocked on the massive door of a downtown Budapest building. It was past midnight and the street was dark. I rang the bell and a faint voice invited me inside. I saw a regal stairway to my right, just before the lights went out. So I struggled slowly up the stairs, gripping the side, easing my feet one by one forward and up. I found the door to the hostel and rang another bell.
The place turned out to be wonderful. Friendly folk who seemed to have thought of everything. I even got some free Hungarian food that they had prepared for a cooking class.
But I was too tired to do anything. I hit the sack and slept for 12 hours.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, Berlin
My layover, if that is what it should be called, was scheduled for 14 hours in Berlin, changed to a mere 12 hours by delays at JFK. Still I had from 10 am to 7pm to wander around the capital of Germany. I timidly walked out of the terminal amidst the dashing taxicabs. Who walks out of an airport? Only me. It was scary stuff at first, darting through traffic going 50 mph but eventually I found myself free of the city and in some sort of extension of the Black Forest.
For 90 minutes I walked almost completely alone except for a few bicyclists along a river seemingly remote from the cityscape I anticipated. The birds were chirping. Unfortunately it was cold, about 55 degrees, I think. And the sky was threatening rain.
Then I came to a strange land. It was called kleinegartenkolonies, little garden colonies. All around were tiny, picturesque homes each with its own tiny, well-tended garden. I really expected Hansel and Gretel to emerge any minute. This went on for two hours. Tiny, tidy house after tiny, tidy house. The only people I saw were women walking their dogs.
I found the real city at last but by now my legs were very tired. At a bus stop I found a map of the city and decided the sensible thing was to head for the most famous tourist destination I could remember, the Brandenburg Gate. I did not find it at first but stumbled on Checkpoint Charlie, instead.
You can buy a Starbucks Coffee at Checkpoint Charlie, just a block from the pictures of East Germans perishing at the hands of border guards in 1970. You can also get Checkpoint Curry. And you can get your picture taken beneath the sign saying "You are now leaving the American Zone". Two guys, dressed in faux American military uniforms of 1970 vintage, will let you take your picture with them. Seemed like a terrific way to pick up girls.
They have a little museum devoted to Berlin Twentieth Century history where the DDR guards once stood, guns at the ready. For a history buff it was interesting stuff.
Later I found the Gate but it was walled off for some sort of concert.
I was so worried about missing my plane that I returned to the airport at six, really too soon. Not an enlightening day but better than staying in the terminal.
For 90 minutes I walked almost completely alone except for a few bicyclists along a river seemingly remote from the cityscape I anticipated. The birds were chirping. Unfortunately it was cold, about 55 degrees, I think. And the sky was threatening rain.
Then I came to a strange land. It was called kleinegartenkolonies, little garden colonies. All around were tiny, picturesque homes each with its own tiny, well-tended garden. I really expected Hansel and Gretel to emerge any minute. This went on for two hours. Tiny, tidy house after tiny, tidy house. The only people I saw were women walking their dogs.
I found the real city at last but by now my legs were very tired. At a bus stop I found a map of the city and decided the sensible thing was to head for the most famous tourist destination I could remember, the Brandenburg Gate. I did not find it at first but stumbled on Checkpoint Charlie, instead.
You can buy a Starbucks Coffee at Checkpoint Charlie, just a block from the pictures of East Germans perishing at the hands of border guards in 1970. You can also get Checkpoint Curry. And you can get your picture taken beneath the sign saying "You are now leaving the American Zone". Two guys, dressed in faux American military uniforms of 1970 vintage, will let you take your picture with them. Seemed like a terrific way to pick up girls.
They have a little museum devoted to Berlin Twentieth Century history where the DDR guards once stood, guns at the ready. For a history buff it was interesting stuff.
Later I found the Gate but it was walled off for some sort of concert.
I was so worried about missing my plane that I returned to the airport at six, really too soon. Not an enlightening day but better than staying in the terminal.
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