The Obvious Travel Blog (pt. 2 – Europe to Africa)

On July 13th, I finished packing my backpack, went out for my last meal of Ukrainian foods and virgin mojitos with my neighbor, language instructor and good friend Lidia, and shoved all my bags into a small taxi (managing to accidentally offend my last Ukrainian with my lack of Ukrainianness by holding my own bag. It’s not like I could leave Ukraine without being scolded for my lack of Ukrainianness one last time!). After a quick drive, and a long wait in a hot, Soviet-era station, I was finally on the train and within fifteen minutes was back in the Eurozone.

Hungary (cities visited – Budapest)

View of Budapest from Castle Hill.

Despite the close proximity of their shared borders, the second you step off into Hungary you see differences: PA announcements are made in multiple languages including English but not Russian; you’re reminded that there is lots of racial diversity in the world; and everything is fast. Oh, and of course you start to see those wonderful European fashions that always make me giggle (men in hot pink tight pants? Plastic shirts?) but inevitably turn up in the States withing a few months. And I inevitably take some cues from each of my trips to Europe and come back with at least one crush on a band that can’t be found in the US, and some affinity for an item of clothing that isn’t popular (yet) in the Americas. Europe makes me a little insufferable.

On the train to Budapest I made these observations of contrasts between Ukrainian and Hungarian train-travel. Ukrainian trains lack air-con, and the men on them lack shirts. Hungarian trains are not only equipped with air-con (my first time feeling it since May!) and shirt-wearing men, but also WiFi and trash cans at every seat, discreetly stowed beneath the tables. Ukrainian trains are more romantic–I fully expected Anna Karenina to throw herself under our train to Kyiv–but Hungarian trains are a lot more comfortable.

First view of Europe at the Hungarian border.

Budapest is a stunner of a city. It’s not somewhere I often hear described as a “must see”, and it doesn’t carry the iconic imagery of cities like Rome, Paris, or London, which is a shame because it should. I’ve been to Paris and while Paris in the flesh exceeds even the most starry-eyed Woody Allen film–and I’m actually dying to go back–Budapest holds the same sort of history, beauty and culture. Indeed, all Budapest lacks that Paris has, is centuries of rabid internationally-known artists as fans. In some ways, Budapest’s lack of glamour made it more enjoyable than Paris. While still an extremely popular tourist city, Budapest does not have the massive lines and crowds of tourists at every point of interest that Paris does. You know what? If you have a choice between a day in Paris and a day in Budapest, go with Budapest. Twelve hours in Budapest will allow you to see the parliament building, a museum or two, a castle or three, coffee at The Most Beautiful Cafe in The World, and a stunning panorama from the top of a cathedral. Twelve hours in Paris and all you get to see is the outside of Notre Dame and the underside of the Eiffel Tower.

St. Stephen’s Basilica in Budapest.

Seriously. Go to Budapest. You won’t regret it.

Travel (cities visited – Cairo, Egypt and Johannesburg, South Africa)

I flew EgyptAir from Budapest to Cairo to Johannesburg. I guess all my flights with Lufthansa and KLM have spoiled me, because I was a little disappointed with EgyptAir. The food was…questionable (and awkward to eat, as I was surrounded by Muslims abstaining from eating due to it being Ramadan. My seatmate assured me he wasn’t bothered that I was eating, but I still did it as quickly and quietly as possible, with no show of appreciation for the food)…and there were no little TV screens to keep me up with their dizzying array of entertainment options. That part was probably a good thing. I hadn’t slept more than five hours in a row for nearly two weeks, and finally managed a solid seven hours on my second flight.

I had no experience with North Africa or the Middle East, so I was eager for a look at Egypt. Luckily, I always reserve window seats, and since the sun was still up, I got a great look at Alexandria, the Nile and Cairo.

not my photo. this is just what Cairo looks like at sunset. taken from https://www.flickr.com/photos/slightlyesoterik/4811248401/

“Is there a sandstorm?” I asked my seatmate–Surely this isn’t how it normally is…there’s sand everywhere…how could anyone get anything done with all this sand around? Was what I was thinking. He laughed and quickly repeated my question to his friends–who also laughed–before they all took turns assuring me that this was a perfectly normal day. “The wind, the sand, it’s always this way,” they informed me.

We had to walk from our plane to a bus that would take us to the terminal. I was one of the first off the plane and indulged myself in a gaping stare at the dunes rising around me, palms just barely visible behind their tops. It looked like every desert that had filled my childhood dreams after seeing (and falling head-over-heels in love with) The Black Stallion films and Hidalgo. I’m not kidding, there was a point in my life where my highest goal was to enter and win a cross-country desert horse race. I literally used to dream of being a Bedouin and sleeping in a tent with only my prized Arabian horse for company. Standing on the tarmac, surrounded by darkening desert, I was sorely tempted to shirk all responsibilities and run off into the desert. If I hadn’t been going to see my family, I probably would’ve. As it was, I slowly stepped onto the airport bus and promised myself I would someday venture into the deserts of Africa and Arabia.

My former seatmate and his friends welcomed me warmly to Egypt in both English and Arabic (thanks to my friends from Jordan, I could respond in fumbling kind), and then by pouring water from their bottle over my hands and then offering it to me to drink from first. I think I made a great impression when I spilled the water down my shirt and splashed it over my face.

The next four hours were spent searching the halls for WiFi and conversing with other travelers. By the time I arrived in Johannesburg I was dying for a decent meal and a rooibos cappuccino. O.R. Tambo has both in easy abundance and within an hour of landing in South Africa, I had both.

(next Travel Blog will cover my trip to Durban and Coffee Bay…sand, surf and sharks.)

• Africa
• annotated post
• budapest
• cairo
• egypt
• hungary
• johannesburg
• south africa
• travel