The Long Journey Home: A Taste of Europe Part One

‘But a city is more than a place in space, it is a drama in time.’ – Patrick Geddes.

Back in Europe

We travelled to six cities in Europe before going back to the UK. After spending three weeks in Russia, it was almost reverse culture shock to return to a world where there were other tourists and people spoke English!

We deliberated long and hard over which cities to visit during our fortnight travelling across Europe. In the end, we settled on staying largely in Eastern Europe, visiting Warsaw, Krakow, Budapest and Prague. We finally headed west a few days before going home, checking out Munich and Paris.

In this post, I’ll tell short stories from my time in Warsaw, Krakow and Budapest. In Part Two, I will write about Prague, Munich and Paris.

Warsaw

The weather breaks just as we are starting the forty minute walk back to the hostel. All day, the air has been warm and humid and a weak sun has played between ever growing clouds. The air has grown heavier throughout the day with impending rain.

We have spent the day strolling down countless narrow lanes and cobbled alleys, enjoying the architecture and atmosphere of Warsaw’s Old Town. The place is thronged with tourists. It’s our first proper encounter with them in weeks.

When the rain comes…

As we begin the walk back to our accommodation, a strong wind picks up. The heavy grey clouds have settled low overhead, squatting menacingly. Fat drops of rain begin to fall as we cross the Śląsko-Dąbrowski Bridge across the Vistula River. Within seconds, it has become a deluge and we are soaked through. A siren wails. Blue lights flash past, a blur going in the opposite direction.

The rain falls thicker, faster. My hair sticks to my skull. The coat I’m wearing offers little by way of protection, hanging limp and useless around my frame. My jeans cling cold to my skin. As we step through puddle after puddle, my shoes begin to squelch. I find the rain exhilarating, and the downpour isn’t dampening my spirits.

For twenty minutes, the rain falls mercilessly. I am soaked to the skin, but for some reason it doesn’t matter. We will be home soon to dry off. There is no rush. We continue chatting as the rain continues to fall, slowing our pace. Gradually, it eases to a gentle patter, before stopping.

Deep puddles are left behind in its wake. Trees drip onto the pavements. People begin to reemerge from their shelter. Some eye us as we pass, curious. They are clearly wondering why we’re strolling through a rain storm, getting drenched, without a care in the world. When we reach the hostel, the skies have cleared and my clothes are already beginning to dry. It’s over just like that.

Krakow

“Let’s go in here,” I say.

I point at a pub with a dark interior as the intensity of the rain increases.

“We can get one drink and go somewhere else afterwards.”

We order cheap beer and sit at the back of the pub, across the beer stained table from one another. Despite the weather, we’re both in good spirits and conversation flows. We flow effortlessly from topic to topic. It feels as natural as breathing. Before we know it, we have finished our first pints.

“We should get another,” P says, leaning back.

I don’t need much persuasion. It is still raining heavily outside. Drinking another beer makes sense.

An Unexpected Night of Drinking

Five pints in, we leave the pub to find a dry world outside. It has darkened while we have been drinking. As we start back for our hostel, we come across a small bar playing loud music.

“Let’s go in,” P suggests, “I don’t want to go back to the hostel yet.”

Two minutes later, I am yelling over the noise to be heard as I order three vodka shots for both of us and another pint each. The night has certainly escalated quickly. We down the shots and take our beers upstairs. A group of travellers from various European countries invite us to join them. My memory blurs as we drink and drink. The night passes in a flash.

We don’t remember getting home. The next morning, from the comfort of our hostel bunk beds, we piece together the evening. Our hangovers slowly abate over the course of the day.

What started out as a quick pint to while away a rainy hour turned into a night neither of us can remember clearly. And that is just sometimes the best thing that can happen!

Budapest

After several hours of wandering the city, P suggests we cross the Danube and climb Gellert Hill. There’s a statue and fortress to see. We guess that there will be excellent views across Budapest as well.

As we climb, the vista opens up below us. Budapest spreads out, a network of narrow streets and building blocks. The river flows right through the heart, spanned by several bridges. We walk through a dense, green park, full of people admiring the view and strolling higher. Everyone seems happy. Most people seem to have a bottle of beer or wine with them, and we can’t help but feel we’ve missed a trick by not bringing any alcohol with us.

Sunset over the Danube

Time runs away with us. Before we know it, the afternoon has slipped into evening and the sun is dipping below the horizon. We sit on a grassy rise, listening to music, chatting occasionally. However, we mainly sit in silence, locked in our own thoughts, admiring the panorama below. As the sun sets, the sky turns various shades of tangerine, candy pink and palest purple. In a final fiery glow, the sun disappears entirely and dusk settles in.

Eventually, finally, we gather together our belongings and begin the walk back down into the city. Lights spring up across Budapest, twinkling up at us, a carpet of stars. Slowly, we descend back into the city landscape and are swallowed back up in the maze of streets.

We weren’t wrong about that view. It is one of the best panoramas I’ve ever witnessed, and the sunset was incredible. And that day we walked 41,000 steps, the most we walked in one single day on the entire trip.

If you’re curious, here are a couple of the songs we listened to while we were sitting on the hill in Budapest, enjoying the view in the photograph below.
Hot Chip  – Dancing in the Dark.
Tame Impala – Let It Happen.

If you enjoyed Part One of The Long Journey Home: A Taste of Europe, then why not check out Part Two? Read stories from Prague, Munich and Paris…