15 October 2008: Vienna, Austria

I slept for a couple hours at Scott's place and then woke up climb Citadel again.

Yes, to climb it for a third time, but as I said before I had already done sunset and mid-day. All I needed was sunrise and I'd have the complete set.

Because the thing is, although watching the sun set from Citadel was probably the most breath-taking experience I had during my time in Budapest, there were three problems with it: 1) The neon-red "Budapest Bank" sign, which is the only physical flaw in the stunningly beautiful panorama. 2) There are blinding flood-lights at eye level from the highest spot, which I guess are for people climbing back down. 3) The sun sets the wrong way, since all the good stuff is to the east. When the sun is completely down it doesn't matter, but for the effect of the actual sunset this is a problem.

To solve the third problem, I decided to climb Citadel on my final morning in Budapest and watch the sunrise-- to watch what might even be the perfect sunrise, when you consider the view, the height, and the fact that you're in freakin' Budapest.

The thing about watching the sunrise from atop Citadel, though, is that in order to do so you need to climb Citadel before the sun rises. And this was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Not because I was scared for my safety, but because you have to cross the Danube River from the commercial side to the artistic side to get there. When you get to the bridge, you're leaving streets of regular-sized buildings, and the lights from the bridge are momentarily blinding. When your eyes adjust, you're not looking at regular-sized buildings anymore, you're looking across the river at a gigantic hill slowly emerging with a dark, ominous statue standing at the top. It's sort of like first seeing the iceberg emerge out of the dark from the deck of the Titanic. Only if the angel of death was standing on top of the iceberg, beckoning to you.

As if that's not bad enough, when you climb the hill and emerge from the trees at the top, you step out and the statue is standing directly overhead not more than 10 meters away. And it's just there, enormous and dark, like it was waiting for you because it knew you were coming. This was THE most terrifying experience of my life, and I'm not even joking.

Think I'm kidding? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberty_Statue_(Budapest)

Anyway, the view was absolutely wonderful, and it was probably the best possible way to say good-bye to Budapest-- and to remind Hungary that I had conquered it. But if you ever go to Budapest, you should make climbing Citadel the FIRST thing you do on your first morning. And, upon climbing Citadel, you should climb onto the railing so that the only thing higher than you in the entire city is the statue itself. I'm not sure there's a better possible way to say Welcome to Budapest.

And, if it's possible, don't even look across the river before the first morning. You can't possibly miss it when you set out to climb it, and then try to tell me you didn't almost come right back down when you emerged from the trees.

After climbing down I went back to my new favorite shop and got 150g of mystery meat and two rolls with my last 150ft-- or, to be exact, with 150 of my last 155ft, leaving a lonely 5ft coin in my pocket-- and then I hopped on a bus to Vienna for 2950ft. Less than $20. Unbelievable.

The curve-ball, however, is that I wasn't alone.

No, I was with Marvin, who wanted to come see the city as well. I had some reservations about this, obviously, since it's against my general principals to arrive at a city with someone else-- since I like to explore it initially on my own. But Marvin said he wouldn't have a reason to go otherwise, and he had certainly been a nice enough host. Plus, he said he would only stay for a couple days, so it wouldn't be terribly long. I thought about it, and I said what the hell.

So it was me and Marvin. And, in a sense, it was my third type of start to a country. Ireland had been just me in a hostel; Hungary had been with a friend, if you want to call David that, in a hotel; and Austria would be with a friend, and I'll call Marvin that, in a hostel. I thought it would be interesting to see how I handled it.

(As for the bus ride itself, it was practically empty so I took the whole back seat to myself. Which meant I paid $20 not merely to get to Vienna but to sleep on a couch on the way to Vienna. Nice.)

My first impression of Vienna, when we got there, was simply WOW. I thought it was the most beautiful city. But unfortunately I couldn't really dwell on that feeling at the time because it was around 8:00 and we needed to find a place to sleep for the night.

And the hostel search couldn't have been more frustrating. We walked all over the city trying to find a cheap hostel but everywhere was around €19 per night. Marvin eventually called his friend, who looked online and found a place with beds for €12, but when we got there it was full. I mean, we literally spent four hours walking around Vienna with our stuff before we found a place for €15. Which was pretty reasonable.

(Along the way we stopped off at the "tourist bar," which doubles as an information point. It wasn't really so helpful, but I asked if they were hiring and they said they weren't. It would have been a good job, as far as being fun and probably paying decently, but I think I would have hated the job, to be honest. At least, the people in it at this time were pretty obnoxious.)

(Also, the fact is that having Marvin probably saved me from going nuts while looking for the hostel, since he obviously speaks German. I really think I might have lost it had I been by myself on this first night, trying to find a cheap place to sleep.)

When we got to the hostel we relaxed for a bit, and as we hadn't eaten since that morning we raided the fridge. Actually, I shouldn't say that-- we simply made good use of "no name is fair game," which is the golden rule of hosteling. So if you're reading this and thinking about backpacking around Europe, that's all you need to know: No name is fair game. So put you're name on your food. At least when I'm around.

Marvin's friend Axel, the one who told us about the one hostel, had met up with us earlier, so the three of us headed to the bars at 1:00. Unfortunately, by the time we got there it was 2:00 and there wasn't much going on. Marvin and Axel wanted to leave, and at first I was going to go with them.

But then Marvin and Axel started making complicated plans about a time and place to meet the next day, and suddenly all the coordination just overwhelmed me-- it just felt that there was too much planning. I couldn't take it.

Because, although Marvin's German had been a big help in the hostel search, after Axel arrived and his hostel didn't work out the two of them became impossible. They couldn't agree on anything, which was bizarre since Axel wasn't even going to be staying at the hostel, and they kept losing track. I was screaming "Let me just pick one for God's sake!" but they kept arguing about it and it was driving me mad. It was just too much.

So I told them I would stick around the bar for a while. And they left and then, about an hour or so after, so did I.

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1) I had stayed at the bar out of principal, which I will readily admit-- just to be back on my own and making my own plans, as I am used to when traveling. But what I'll also admit is that it was simply my own stupid pride that made me do so. Because the fact is that the bar really was pretty lame. I stayed for about an hour, but it was only as a means to reclaim my traveling independence. Which, like I said, is just a matter of my stupid pride. Once in a while I might need to "travel regular," so to speak, and I need to be OK with that. And, with practice, I will be.

2) I found my way home from the bar in the early morning hours, despite being by myself and being a little bit drunk and having never walked it before. Quite the change from Budapest-- hell, or even Pécs-- where I had been so lost trying to find my way around. That's a nice way to introduce yourself to a town.

3) Somewhere along the way I lost "The Adventures of Augie March." I can't begin to tell you how devastating that is. I mean, it's one thing to lose one of your favorite books-- and "Augie" is one of my top 5. But, more importantly, the reason I like the novel so much is not because of the novel itself as much as it is because I can absolutely and completely relate to Augie more than I can relate to any character in any other story. I mean, during this up-coming year, my whole life is going to be an adventure of Augie March. It really is. There's nothing more devastating than losing such a book-- and in such a situation as I am.

4) I recommend reading "The Adventures of Augie March" to anyone and ESPECIALLY to anyone who likes to travel or who has been thinking about traveling or who is restless or who has no idea what on earth they're doing tomorrow. I really, really do. But since I don't have the book anymore-- and it's killing me that I don't-- let me just impart on you all my favorite quote. Even though, as I had circled practically half the book, just one quote completely underscores what the novel means to me. Regardless,

"When do you plan on doing what it is you're going to do?"
"I wish I knew. But it seems to be one of those things you can't rush."

That's it. I mean, at this point in my life and at this point in my adventure, that's it. Anyone else?