Kings cup!



Fools for thinking we could leave

We set off yesterday after having said goodbye to Sunny (joel’s pet stuffed monkey), handsome Joel and everyone and even getting a round of applause to see us off.  Just before, mike joked about how stupid it would be if we forgot to collect our passports from reception and went back upstairs to get the deposit. We got to a country road with two big puddles in the middle that mike clearly underestimated because he went “I’m going to get my wife a bit wet” and managed to get himself stuck knee-deep in some mud with me on the sidelines aching from laughter. We cycled for about 4 hours and then a few things happened within the next hour that quite significantly shaped our day: first I needed a break because I got pins and needles in my hand. Five minutes after we set off after taking that break mike got a puncture that took about twenty minutes to fix. Then we realised we were really quite tired already and considered staying at a spa hotel but decided against it, and after another twenty minutes of riding, mike suddenly goes “I haven’t got our passports.” Luckily, he realised that at the terminal stop of a train that left for Budapest in two minutes. And the jagertrain back at grandio for us it was. We were glad to be back to see Sunny and handsome Joel who were psyched to see us back. They are good.

Time to say goodbye to budapest

So after three days of extensive partying including a booze cruise down the Danube, a pub crawl and a baths party and some painful hangovers cured by shopping at the chinese markets and drinking through them, it is now time to leave for serbia. According to some information from the amazingly lovely gay serbian journalist, dracula (yes, it’s his real name!), we should avoid going to kosovo – i think we might just follow his advice. Just to give you an idea of what partying in budapest is like: after the first night out, we pretty much knew all the hostel guests and staff, I was made to propose to a fantastic gingerhaired welshman who then said no just because he could and yes when mike did, we crashed a random houseparty to which we lost a member of the group who came wandering home at 10 am the next morning, we got pizza from the tiniest shop with bouncers, mike wore a shiny silver g-string dong-bag with a fluffy end to the baths party and mike lost his only pair of shoes. Safe to say we are coming back a 7th or so time – budapest and the staff from grandio party hostel really know their business when it comes to showing you the time of your life.

Bratislava and the rules on cheating

BratislavaThe glorious sunny weather had to stop sometime and we’re now on the train from Bratislava to Budapest. We dont feel too bad about wimping out the thunderstorm because at least 6 other cyclists are on the same train.
Some of you might think this is cheating. It’s not. The rules on cheating are as follows:
Skipping a cycling day to party = not cheating.
Skipping a partying day to cycle = big fat cheating.
In fact we’re substituting three days down the Donau on the bike for three hours on the train. That would be embarrassing if the river wasn’t as bent as last nights tent pegs.
Next stop Szimpla!