End of the road

Arriving here from Belgrade, New Year’s Day was a tired affair. We slept for most of it.

On the way from the central station to my friend Adam’s apartment, one of the first things I noticed was the amount of homeless people sleeping in underpasses. At least they are sheltered from the worst weather elements here, but it’s still incredibly cold and the problem stares everyone in the face – why hasn’t something been done?

Speaking of the weather, it was terrible. Monotonous raindrops pattered on the apartment windows for two days, meaning I didn’t really want to get up and go out at all. It was like being back in England. Perhaps tiredness from so much travelling was starting to accumulate – it had been around three days with hardly any sleep, so I’m sure that was playing a part too.

When the rain finally seemed to ease up, I went for a walk around the nearby area in search of food. It took a very long time to find the local supermarket, a modest Spar branch; it’s true I didn’t know where to look, but you would have thought there to be quite a few possibilities on the main streets. As I came out with a bag full of supplies, purchased for a ridiculously low price, the heavens opened once again and I hurried back for some dinner.

The next day it was a bit nicer outside, so Adam gave me a guided tour round some of Budapest’s main places. We started off at the cavernous market hall, which I should have visited the previous evening – this seemed to be the centre of local shopping activities. Even quite late in the day it was still pretty busy (peak time is apparently early mornings), with stallholders selling a variety of products including food, drink, clothes and tacky souvenirs. This must be why it was so hard to find a commercial supermarket; everyone comes here instead.

After this we headed to the Danube riverside, where some of the city’s illuminated attractions can be seen. Budapest life in times gone by was heavily dependent on the river and it also has some spectacular bridges. The first thing which caught my eye was a large castle, lit dramatically on a hill. But one of the finest old buildings, the Hungarian Parliament, was hardly visible at all; only the middle dome section had proper lighting and this was a great disappointment. I could see similarities in design to the British one, so it would have looked great.

The Hungarian Parliament
One of Budapest's grand bridges from a high viewpoint
Soon after we arrived at another famous landmark: Heroes’ Square, the largest in Budapest. It was empty apart from a few people wandering around, a couple of which asked us about restaurants in the area, and one man with a camera and large tripod. The main column has a statue of the Archangel Gabriel at its summit and the others surrounding it are eminent figures from Hungarian history. The whole thing looked great at night too.

Walking through the chilly streets, we had to be very careful watching out for dogs' natural waste. Budapest has an unusually high ratio of pets to population: something like 600,000 animals for under two million people. And the owners aren’t as well-trained as they are at home either, which means you’ve got to watch out – especially when it’s dark.

We had dinner and then moved on to a very interesting nightspot, the ‘Clutch’. It’s a spacious bar/concert venue which used to be a carwash. On one side was the bar itself and there were lots of little tables with chairs scattered around, nearly all occupied even on a Tuesday evening. The vibrant buzz of people speaking created a nice social atmosphere. Foosball tables were everywhere with queues to play – it’s the national Hungarian activity in places like this and everyone’s really good.

There was a gig taking place that evening, in a smaller room adjacent to the main area. It was a French band named ‘Les Touffes Kretins’, which featured a couple of percussionists, many brass instruments including a huge sousaphone, one guitarist and someone on the banjo. They played a crazy mixture of reggae, ska, jazz, hiphop (band members took it in turns to MC into megaphones) and just about every other musical style there is. What an amazing group, they really got everyone involved and each musician brought their own creativity in with soloing.

Something negative I discovered during this trip had to do with the English people and our language. Adam is currently studying for a teaching certificate and had lots of work to do for tests when I was staying. So one evening he asked me to help out with revision. We then discovered that I didn’t know anything about the stuff he was supposed to learn, which included loads of grammatical terms I’d never even heard of like ‘morpheme’.

What’s going on? I was never taught anything beyond the very basic principles of English grammar; it really annoys me not to be able to answer advanced questions. It’s not like I had a bad education or don’t know how to speak the language – it’s just that I don’t understand why things are the way they come out, for example in sentence structures. I think this also links to the well-known fact that the British are terrible at learning other languages; I wonder what percentage of this country can honestly say they could get by with another tongue. But if we don’t even know how to speak our own language, this isn’t really surprising. I think my German would definitely be better now if I’d learnt proper English grammar as a child. The Hungarians do this with their language, so why can’t we? It’s clearly a big hidden flaw in the education system and something has to be done.

Hungarian is one of the languages in the small group of random ones, which are unrelated to any in surrounding countries. It is joined by Finnish and Estonian in this elite selection, but they are only similar in terms of grammar as far as I know. The only two words I managed to pick up were yes and no – ‘igen’ and ‘nem’ – as well as a couple of curses that some would argue are equally useful.

Another thing I discovered was the term “conference tourism”. I’d never heard it before, but I can think of no better words to describe what I’ve been doing on and off for the past six months.

I was due to leave Budapest on January 6, taking an EasyJet flight to Gatwick. When that day came I could feel a strange sensation inside. It was like the last few weeks had just been a blur; I’d travelled through 15 countries and this was the end of it all. Disembarking in Vilnius on November 28 seemed both like it had happened yesterday and, at the same time, felt a bit like a distant memory.

The same applies to the last six months of my life, since I finished secondary school with my last exam on June 30. It’s been nearly constant travel since then. Countless awesome people, places and experiences later we’re in 2006 – a new year which will bring new beginnings for me. But to be at home now, knowing there won’t be any more expeditions during the foreseeable future, is very weird. I’m not sure I like it. I’m not sure I even like being at home anymore.

Confectionary conflict in Vienna

The only other time I visited this country was on a day trip to Salzburg, famously the birthplace of Mozart (he was everywhere). Austria’s capital is well-known as being one of the historical centres of modern Europe; it was easy to see why.

Coming off an early train from Bratislava, excited at the possibility to explore the final destination of my European adventure, my spirits became somewhat deflated when I walked outside to be engulfed by an icy chill. I may have been lucky with the weather in places like Venice, Rome and Zagreb, but that luck definitely started running out as my trip entered its latter stages.

Immediately noticeable as I walked from Vienna Südbahnhof towards the city centre were the red and white poles leaning off walls of tall buildings a few feet into the pavement. These are there as warnings for people not to walk too close, since roof avalanches can be fatal for nearby pedestrians. Although heavy snowfall is apparently quite rare for Vienna, it's great the city was prepared with these safety measures.

There were some wonderful wide pedestrian streets, which contained all the usual suspects in terms of shopping possibilities. It definitely felt like being back in the west of Europe and one obvious clue was the sinful omnipresence of Starbucks coffeehouses; they're incredibly popular nearly everywhere in London as well and, although I don't actually drink coffee, people tell me the brews aren't even particularly notable.

Security was very high in general, since Austria has just taken Presidency of the European Union for the next six months, replacing the UK in this position. The friend I met here, another from the Youth Summit in Vilnius, was a good source of information - he does some work for the government so knew quite a lot about the new arrangements, including the likelihood of sniper squads patrolling prominent rooftops.

We met at the Café Schwarzenburg. I can't decide if that place was luxuriously sophisticated or pretentiously overelaborate. Uniform for the male waiters was bow tie and waistcoat, for example, but on the other hand, paintings on the walls were on sale. Quite a strange contrast. But Austrians are famed for their love of the café culture, so I suppose it makes sense for such places to exist in Vienna. They're probably all full of the same kind of people: retirees, businessmen, students and unknowns - generally a bit of everything. A selection of newspapers was available, including a few in English, but I was grumpily refused the Financial Times by an old guy in tweeds whose daily routine I'd clearly interrupted. I heard him being addressed as "Herr Doctor" by the staff, so I suspect he was a well-known customer.

This brings me to one of the weirdest pieces of Austrian history, maybe even on a global level in terms of bizarreness. I read in a travel book some months ago about the famous Sachertorte, a gourmet cake with a past riddled in conflict. This dry chocolate confection, with flavourings of apricot and usually served with cream, was first created by trainee chef Franz Sacher in 1832. Prince Metternich had demanded his private kitchen to produce a new dessert for an important dinner party and chaos ensued because the head chef was ill in bed. Responsibility ended up with 16-year-old apprentice Sacher and he produced the masterpiece from restricted resources.

After that he went on to open a Hotel in his name, which became famous for this cake and many other delicacies. The dispute arose when, for unknown reasons, his son decided to sell the recipe to the Demel pastry shop, another leading Viennese culinary institution. The Hotel Sacher and Demel soon entered a bitter struggle over who had the right to name their cake “Sachertorte”. Following an astonishing nine-year legal battle, in 1962 it was ruled the Hotel Sacher would name its version the “original Sachertorte”, with Demel taking “original Demel Sachertorte”.

Seems like a good compromise to me. But just think about it: a national dispute over the name of a confectionary product lasting all this time. It was only the court case that went on for nine years, people were arguing about it since long before then and probably still do. They definitely seem to like talking about it very much; after I asked the Scharzenburg waiter about the Sachertorte history and received an unexpected answer about ingredients, a local approached and excitedly enquired “Do you speak English?” before narrating the tale to me with all its fine intricacies.

So I suppose that was the highlight of my day (by the way, the cake was really good, if not a little overpriced). Despite the cold I still enjoyed walking the streets of Vienna, taking in the architecture and atmosphere of the city. An interesting feature of its traffic system are the “rings”, circular roads which span out from the centre – there are some nice tram rides along these routes. Vienna is another place I’d definitely like to explore again with more time; it’s really not worthy of only a day’s close attention.

An evening in Bratislava

Since planning the road trip through Europe in late November (seems like just the other day, time is going so fast), I had thought visiting Bratislava would be a nice excursion from Budapest.

The original idea was for me to see Vienna first, but complications with missed trains in the morning meant I switched the agenda round and went to Slovakia. I had wanted to take the 9.20 service into Austria, but after waking up late I arrived at the station to discover the next didn't leave until 13.10. So I decided to catch the midday train to Bratislava instead - I would still see both places and the order didn't really matter.

I arrived about 4pm after typical delays and unfortunately this meant limited time to see the sights and look around in daylight. Bratislava's old town is very similar to those of Tallinn and Vilnius - narrow, winding streets and charming architecture. Unsurprisingly, I also thought the Slovak capital wasn't that different to Prague in terms of design and general atmosphere. The Czech Republic and Slovakia used to be the same country, under the name Czechoslovakia, and the languages are also nearly the same.

Walking to the Danube riverside, I was hit by a great contrast to the old town. Discovering Bratislava's "UFO" bridge, so named because of the flying-saucer-like structure raised on a tower at one end, was like suddenly going into a timewarp from medieval ages and arriving in the future. It was a stunning structure and I'd have loved to see the views of the city from the rotating restaurant at its summit.


However, I did have what were probably equally spectacular views from the ramparts of Bratislava Castle, situated at the top of a hill. Although the weather was cold and much snow remained from previous days' downfall, the skies were clear. Hardly anyone was there at the top, apart from a few solitary dog-walkers, so I really enjoyed the peacefulness and tranquility. All the sounds of the city were faint and far away. It reminded me of Prague again and the time I spent at the top of the hill where the city's bizarre giant metronome was located.


As I explored the area outside the castle walls, treading carefully on steps to avoid slippery snow slush, I discovered lots of residential buildings at one end. Although it's a shame landscape around the castle has to be modernised in this way, I'd love to live somewhere with a view of turrets and fortifications from the rear windows.


One thing I got quite surprised by back in the city centre was the Tesco supermarket, which appeared to be one of the liveliest areas. I didn't realise this British firm had reached as far as Slovakia - apparently there are several more throughout Bratislava, even larger than this one - but I guess it's not that unexpected in the world of globalised business we live in today. It was very busy inside and I needed to search around for ages to find the food section and buy some chocolate.


Hungarians are a substantial minority in Slovakia. The friend I stayed with for one night is part of that group and it strikes me as a similar situation to that of the Swedish-speaking population in Finland. The main difference is that in Finland this tiny six percent minority has an unusually disproportionate share of rights to their numbers, with everything official being written in both languages. In Slovakia the Hungarian-speaking people do not receive such luxury, but this doesn't create any particularly bad problems.

I think I managed to see quite a lot in this limited time, but if I ever have the opportunity to return I definitely will. Things would probably be even nicer in the daylight and with less cold, wintry weather. On the other hand, there could be more tourists at these times - it was really nice to be surrounded by only local people.

Tomorrow I'll move on to Vienna, somewhere I've read a lot about with a very rich historical past. Again, I'll have to make the most of having only a day there, but it's at least a start and nice to see yet another European capital.

End of 2005 already?

After the frantic confusions of my train journey from Bucharest back to Belgrade, which also involved lateness of taxis to the station and lots of anxious moments, even before the journey began, it ended up being very delayed in reaching the final destination. I hadn't had any sleep either - not the best preparation for a night of celebrations.

When I arrived in Belgrade I headed to the office of the Serbian Students' Union, which had been commandeered as accomodation for my friends on the night of the 30th. We spent a long time catching up and it was a good few hours before we ventured out into the city, quiet and empty in anticipation of the big night.

One of our first stops was the top of the Kalemegdan Fortress, where we had superb views over the river Sava and the other side of Belgrade, peaceful now but later to be engulfed in wild festivities as the new year came in.


For midnight we went to the Republic Square, packed with people, many of whom were throwing about fireworks and bangers - often into tight crowds quite dangerously. Vendors selling these were everywhere to be seen and were doing good business, as were the stalls trading in beer, wine and other alcoholic beverages. Our ears were ringing by the end of it, but there was a fantastic atmosphere and when the countdown reached its climax we witnessed serious uproar.

The first thing that came into my head, as I was surrounded by all the chaos and noise, was that this didn't seem right to me. 2005 had gone so fast, it didn't feel like it was time for 2006 already. There should be at least a couple more months left. The whole thing of being devoid of Christmas spirit was similar, it didn't feel like the time was right for that either.

My life has been so busy, especially since finishing exams and school, and I've occasionally struggled to keep up with everything. I've hardly been at home for three weeks continuously and have really enjoyed all the travelling. Being at the UN and in New York was amazing - something I will never forget - and I suppose it was the main focus of the last six months of 2005.

Every experience I've had has brought something unique, memorable and educational in a practical sense. I honestly believe that, in terms of life, I've learnt more in the last months being on the road, particularly the last few weeks in Europe, than I did in the whole of my academic education for 18 years or whatever it was. I've also realised this year out is the first proper break from education I've ever had.

Last year brought so many fantastic experiences, people and memories. I am hoping 2006 will be just as good, but it has a lot to live up to. 2005 was the most important year of my life so far, but I think the next is going to take over that honour. After returning home from this period of travelling, work has really got to start seriously. I've got an endless list of things to do, which will take some months to hammer down. After returning from NY I thought I'd be able to work on all of that, but the new opportunities for travel came up and I couldn't resist. So my focus for the early part of 2006 has to be getting settled and progressing with serious matters. Maybe after that I can travel again...