TheDromomaniac.com

My American friend, Greg, is visiting for a week.   He lives in Japan and wants the world to know about his mountain lodge, two hours north of Tokyo, which is available for groups to rent.   It’s called Hoshi Boshi Lodge, “hoshi boshi” meaning both “star-filled night” and “star hat”. The entire reason it is named so is that when anyone calls, he can answer the phone rythymically, saying, “Moshi-moshi, Hoshi Boshi. Boshi hoshi?”   (“Hello, Star-filled Night Lodge, would you like a hat?” which he also sells.) This is the link. I think there is video of me somewhere on there chopping wood.   I do have archive-worthy technique.  

Hungary hasn't come close to qualifying for the World Cup in many years, but there is a lot of demand here to watch the games, so all over town there are giant TVs. This is long after the game. There really were crowds!

It is interesting to see my beloved Hungary through a friend’s virgin eyes.   I think people are not used to Hungarian ways and often misinterpret their first impression of Hungarians being aloof.   They certainly aren’t the type upon introductions to bellow, “How ya doin’? I’m Zoltan!   Damn glad to meet you!” That said, we were both freaked out by a shopwoman at 2am who intensely stared us down like she was going to have to later tell a police artist what we looked like for “Wanted” posters.

Erzsebet Bridge in Budapest

I have to adjust my routine since Greg is here, as my idea of a good time in Budapest is to help anyone I see looking at a map.   Budapest is very hard to get oriented with the odd language and all, and I like steering people in the right direction.   I say in measured English if I don’t hear what language might be their first, “Do you need help finding something?”   Almost always there is a moment where they look me over, not sure if I am a shyster up to something and trying to decide if I might really be from here, but ultimately they all seem glad for the help.
I even helped a young out-of-town Hungarian girl find a church she was looking for.   I could tell she was confused that an obvious foreigner was giving her directions, but she was pleased, too.

When I am alone in Budapest I sleep on the floor of my friend’s office, which doesn’t fly when I have someone visiting.   I looked at double rooms in hostels, but hostels in Budapest are very poor value for money.   I knew there had to be something else and went to good old craigslist.org where I found Marton of budapesting.com.   He is a part of this encouraging young breed of entrepreneurial Hungarian who buys and/or rents out lots of properties all over the city.   Greg and I pay 15 euros each for a room in an apartment.   For two nights we had an apartment for ourselves. Earlier in the day I checked out a nearby hostel and a bed in a 7-bed dorm in a cramped hostel was 13 euros.  

I find it hard to come to grips that I’m paying US$18.50 for a bed in any arrangement in Hungary.   I still distinctly remember my first time in the country when I found it physically impossible to eat one dollar’s worth of pastry items from a bakery, or when I was caught on the bus without a ticket by an angry inspector and forced to pay a fine of two dollars.   That was in the good old communist days of 1986.

Lots of Hungarians naturally have a voice made for TV news anchoring, both men and women.   All day long it feels like you are hearing audition tapes with their deep, serious, steady monotone that would translate well to the small screen.

A friend told me of a flight in July, Milan to Bangkok, 180 euros one way, all taxes included.   That might be too hard to pass up.