Terror, Blues, and The Phantom Bar

Trip Start May 25, 2007

Trip End Oct 29, 2007

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Flag of Hungary Budapest, Hungary
Friday, August 31, 2007

I'm always on the lookout for museums or places that sound out of the ordinary. The Terror Museum fit that bill, so I headed there. I really had no idea what to expect...ghost stories, vampires, torture? Who knows? It turned out to be the story of the Nazi and Soviet occupation of Hungary from 1942 until the unsuccessful revolution in 1956. It was very detailed about the very sad goings on at this time. It is called the Terror because that is what these people lived with every day. It's seeing history like this that make me very thankful for the conditions I was fortunate enough to grow up in.

Today seemed to be a constant reminder of that. In every big city I've been to in Europe so far (save for maybe Reykjavik) there have been the poor, the homeless. Sooner or later someone will ask you for money, or try to sell you something useless. It comes with the territory so it never bothered me that much

buda01

. But today it was constant. And if it wasn't the beggars it was the people with the clipboards trying to get me to donate or sign up for some cause: Greenpeace, Feed the Children, Amnesty International, etc. Worthy causes, all of them, but I can't help everyone. If I had given money, even a little bit, to everyone that has asked me I'd already be broke. All day I was stepping past people with their hand out. It saddened me that there were so many people who were not being taken care of by their government.

After another day of sightseeing I got back to the hostel, where the owners of the place invited all of us out to see their band perform. They play what they described as "electric blues". They were really good, and like the Irish folk concert I was at in Eindhoven it allowed me to appreciate a style of music I hadn't before. (They are called T. Rogers, if anyone is interested.)

In the pub I was chatting with some people new to the hostel; A Scot called Jon and two Quebecois girls named Fanny and Amy. They are all very charming and interesting people, and real treat to hang around with. The four of us were given directions to another bar that supposedly was fantastic. After walking for about 20 min, and asking the drunk locals, all we could find was a park where the bar was supposed to be. No one seemed to have any clue as to what we were talking about. So the bar was out, but we managed to amuse ourselves anyway, mainly by discussing the different slang definitions of the word 'Fanny'. (To clarify, in North America, it means your rear. In England, it refers to a woman's, ahem, well, front)

I also got to call my niece Alexa and wish her a happy 6th birthday. I told her some secrets, you know, to make her feel special. She is not very good at keeping secrets.