The fried chicken at KFC tasted like all fried chickens at KFC, but a lot saltier. The outlet was packed. People do not eat at regular hours anymore. Walk to a shopping complex anywhere in the world and you are apt to see someone eating something somewhere, whatever the hour. It was a good thing that we had the potato soup on the train. Else, we would have been famished. The day was young and there was much to explore.
With Mr Seventeen in the lead, we took Bus No: 5 to Castle Hill.
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Bus No: 5 took us past ornate buildings and churches, across the Danube and dropped us at a bus-stand along Attila Ut..
We walked the remaining distance to this flight of stone steps between two buildings. |
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| Undulating bike lane on the right from Attila Ut |
The stone steps above connected the lower Attila Ut (street) to the upper Logodi Ut and what do you know? A second flight of stone steps waited eagerly for my dainty feet. (picture: right)
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This second flight of stone step was a longer climb. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't exhausted just looking at it. But climb I did, with a great deal of huffing and puffing and more, stopping between the steps for many a breather, until finally, flushed from the effort, I reached Lovas Ut, way way up there at the top. The family of five were gathered there for their share of the breather.
At this point, we were looking at chimneys on rooftops.
The road looped around the slope. Walking a little ahead, lo and behold ... more stone steps! (Picture: right)
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"Will you be coming back this way? If so, we'll hang around here and wait for you. I don't think I can make that third flight of stairs," I gasped.
(Let's not forget that I was still limping from the bruises on my knee.)
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"No. We're not coming back this way. I think you should take the No: 5 bus and return to the hotel." answered Mr Seventeen.
"Why not you take a slow leisurely walk up the steps? You've come this far so try not to miss out any of the sights. We can wait for you." Mr Nice-Guy added after a thoughtful silence.
"It's very difficult , you know? I think you should take the No; 5 bus and go back to the hotel" Mr Seventeen reiterated.
"Or ... why not consider the Hop-On-Hop-Off City Tour? That might be less strenuous." Mr Nice-Guy suggested.
It sounded like a plan.
The family of five walked up the third flight of stairs. Looking up, I could only shake my head with disappointment. There was no way we were going up. My knees were shaking and there was no knowing if any more stone step surprises were ahead."
We hung around for a while. The place was deserted. The occasional tour bus rounded the bend. Looking at the magnificent buildings in the distance, I could not help feeling a little sorry for myself. I was slowing down the group. This reminded me of a documentary I once saw. A group of Bushmen were crossing the Kalahari. One of them had a bad fall and was slowing down the group. He was left behind. As his tribesmen left, vultures started circling in the sky above. Boy, was I glad I wasn't born a Bushmen. I looked up at the sky, for good measure. No vultures. It was probably too hot!
Slowly we descended the second flight of stone steps and walked painfully down, down, down to Logodi Ut and down, down, down again to Attila Ut below.
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Walking towards the nearest bus stand, we stopped to rest at this fountain. By and by, a little ole lady appeared with her little unleashed black pooch. Urging her pooch to "yada-yada-yada!" which is Hungarian for "Come along", she continued walking. The pooch was not to be persuaded. It strayed towards the green grass where it rolled over and over and over again. The little ole lady yelled at her pooch. She was ignored.
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It was 4-15 pm when Bus No: 5 dropped us outside the Keleti. By this time, we have made the decision to go for the Hop-On-Hop-Off City Tour on the next morning.
Budapest was a lot different from Vienna. Austria was spotlessly clean. Budapest was littered with ciggie butts and vagabonds raiding trash cans. Some buildings were scarred from air raids during the past war. That the scars were left unattended should give you some clue regarding the city's coffers.
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We bought some pizzas (Ham, chicken) and a bottle of cold orange juice from a pizza joint and returned to our room for TV Dinner.
The Joy of Painting hosted by Bob Ross was coming to an end. He was painting a landscape with a paint brush.
Next was the Danish Adam and Eve Reality show. Having heard of this before, I wasn't surprised. Eve had long black tresses concealing her bosom and she was wading waist-high in a swamp. The camera swung from her and focused on two beady eyes in the dark murky water.
It had been a long day. The pizza was tasteless. The orange juice was a bad idea. My cough worsen during the night as did the sore-throat. Belatedly, I vaguely remembered some old wives tale about coughs, cold and citric juices. A Panadol and some cough syrup sent me to a fitful sleep.
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