Dave and Josh are…
On the night train to Transylvania.
No sign yet of vampire bats outside the train though trying to sleep on the train makes one feel kind of like the undead.
Today’s theme was travel. First we traveled to the train station to get train tickets (incredibly expensive train tickets in Josh’s case) then we traveled by metro then bus then tram then another bus to the outskirts of Budapest to Statue Park.
After the fall of communism many of the cities monuments to Stalin, Lenin, and the working man were all removed and installed in this park.
Today was cold and gray in sharp contrast to the rest of the week and the park was desolate, the perfect way to enjoy Soviet art. I mean you can’t imagine more communist weather.
And you can’t imagine much more communist art. It was impressive and fairly ridiculous.
I particularly liked the towering monument to the 20th Communist Congress which depicted a guy running with a towel. (In the background you can see the Death Star that someone appears to be building. Perhaps communism isn’t dead.)
Almost as entertaining was the gift shop which featured coffee mugs with such slogans as “Wake Up! Drink Coffee! Work for the State!” mouse pads featuring “East Park” and communisms greatest music hits (a two cd set!).
Back in the city we explored Hero’s Square and the park, where I got to sit on the lap of soviet Santa. Actually the inscription said anonymous but it sure looks like one of those evil dudes from the first Lord of the Rings.
Despite its reputation as a party city it’s proving hard to find places to get a drink but Josh and I managed to get a beer at an outdoor refreshment stand and we settled down at a table looking over Hero’s Square to wait for Rob. It was there we learned the word Vossbag. Actually, it’s a bit of an overstatement to say we learned it. We heard it, it could mean anything but we’ve decided it’s an insult and have introduced it to the popular lexicon.
Hero’s Square also witnessed the beginning of the great Jaywalking Competition of 2007. Somehow Josh and I got into a pissing contest over who’s the best jaywalker (loosely determined by lack of fear in the face of traffic, refusal to hesitate when stepping off the curb etc) and once joined by Rob and his new friends it escalated.
I personally think that the contest was won decisively by me in its nascent stage when Josh broke into a brief jog to get across a street while I not only refused to break stride but also gave a condescending slow down pat to the angry honking motorist I walked in front of. Its ok, you can hold your applause, I know I’m a badass. (Despite my declaration of victory the competition has only increased.)
The train to Transylvania wasn’t till after 11pm so Josh and I and Rob and two people he met all went out for dinner at some pizza joint. The pizza sucked but in one of those reassess all you hold true in the world the place served Amstel. Not Amstel Light but Amstel, Amstel Bock actually; and it was a pretty dark beer. Next I’ll learn there really are vampires.
But we bid adieu to our companions (Safe travels Rob) made a deli run to get the ingredients for chocolate sandwiches (a Brustein traveling staple) and headed for the station.
Now twice today while waiting for the subway I happened to stand over, or at least partially, over the white warning line a few feet from the edge of the platform. Both times someone came up to me and in a concerned but firm way pulled me back from the edge. We couldn’t help but wonder if there had been some recent tragedy cause I was still well safe from the edge. And these weren’t metro employees (they are all occupied checking that you stamped your ticket a truly inefficient system that aggravates Josh to no end) they were just regular concerned citizens.
So anyway while waiting for the metro to the train station we decided to test it and I stood there for a moment or two and thought I was gonna get away with it when there were a couple messages over the loudspeaker and gestures from a couple people further up the platform indicated they were directed at me. I envision a Hungarian Walter Sobchik, “OVER THE LINE! MARK IT ZERO”. Its nice they care but it was so weird, I mean I know it’s a league game and determines who goes onto the next round robin but still.
Luckily we didn’t share our compartment with any such good Samaritans and I finally got to watch the first episode of the Sopranos final season
while Josh hooked himself up to some strange bone massage machine that in the case looks like a bomb and on his finger makes him look like some sort of hairy primitive robot getting its batteries recharged. So disposed we trundled through the dark towards the home of Dracula.
NPR, my koran, says that the “Moroccan village” of Tetuan has provided over 30 suicide bombers to Iraq. Yet when I look up Tetuan, Morocco, MapQuest, my atlas, says its population is 300,000. So I turn to you, my expert in all things moroccan, to explain to me how big a village is by definition? Apparently, as indicated by Google, my source of all things listed, there is a big time physics program there. This was eye catching as I had just spent a 1/2 hour searching Amazon, my card catalogue, for the definitive work on the philosphy of physics, of which there are many choices, or the physics of philosophy, which is harder to find, in response to Carol, my inspiration, challenging me to take a class. I wait patiently for your ruling; altho, as I understand physics, maybe no time will pass. Off to hug little baptists…..