Home ·· News Room ·· Prints ·· Licensing ·· Gallery ·· About Us ·· Contact Us ·· Articles ·· Services East Europe stock photography trip report, May 16, 2007 to June 1, 2007 Updated August 22, 2007 Page 3 of 5 Previous page   Next page
	Eastern Europe continued... Visiting the House of Terror was an unnerving experience. This WAS the incarnation of Torture Room 101 in the Ministry of Love out of the Orson Wells novel 1984. For decades, this building is where people were imprisoned, tortured and eventually killed. If you ever thought Nazism and Communism were ever good ideas, then you have not toured through the House of Terror. I cannot recall if I have ever been to a worse place of evil. Just for example, one cell was filled with 6 inches of feted water that a prisoner had to stand in 24 hours a day. If you wanted to lay down, you were laying in the water. Constantly. Another cell was 2 feet by 2 feet, making it nearly impossible to kneel or lay down. There was a light bulb hung so it dangled right in front of your face, the entire time. I actually stepped into this cell and closed the door. It couldn't have been much more spacious than your average coffin. But at least there, you could lie down. If that wasn't you best deal, you could enjoy the 4 foot tall cell where you could never stand up straight. Though it sounds like a better deal than other cells, try staying stooped over or laying on concrete for months on end. And, those are just descriptions of the accommodations of the House of Terror. Imagine how the torture, interrogation and re-education rooms were. Scary. Truly scary. The rebuilt chain bridge is quite pretty, even in harsh mid-day light. It was originally destroyed in World War II as the Germans and Soviets fought for control of Budapest. Walking over to St. Istivan (Ivan) Cathedral, I had a chance to speak with construction workers about how they lay the arced pattern cobble stone. The one lead guy claimed they could finish off 6 parcels a day, but only seeing one actual guy laying the stones, I questioned that in my mind. The most amazing thing was that all of the construction workers' English was good enough that I had no problem understanding them and they had absolutely no trouble comprehending my sloppy American English. They explained that one guy would push wet sand into the gaps and two guys with push brooms would follow the squeegee guy around. They said that it was far easier to handle wet sand and it packed much better than dry. Amazing the things you learn when you travel. St. Istivan's Cathedral is huge, with dark, intricate woodwork filling the massive stone structure. One of the bonuses of checking out this particular cathedral is seeing the 1,000 year old shriveled hand of St. Istivan. There's just something about those relics that is attractive to me. I figured I would grab a quick snack on the way to the hotel, relax a few and then head over to the Buda side of the city and take some impressive night shots. I picked up a pastry and a Fanta and ate on the way back to the hotel, arriving at 3pm. The pastry tasted fine, so I thought. Maybe it had sat there for days on end. Who knows. Pastries are almost always a safe bet. So I thought. It was about midnight before my Budapest hell ended. I lost count of how many times my very empty stomach tried to empty itself even more. Had I been wearing shoes at the time, I would certainly have had a chance to taste shoes laces as they came up. This made the food poising I had in Egypt look like a picnic on a sunny day. Thank goodness I was in a hotel for another full night by myself. It would have been terrible to have been in someone's place, surfing a couch this particular time. Right around 10pm, after 7 hours of wretching and bowel movements, do you start thinking that the Med-evac insurance for $39 doesn't seem like such an extravagant expense. The good part was I didn't have general nausea, only being hit with the need to visit the toilet every 20 minutes like clockwork. Every quick move, a roll, head turn or anything would set being sick off. I didn't want to die but times like these make you think about the possibility of just ending it all. Friday, May 25, 2007 I think I finally fell asleep at midnight, though it was tough to tell. My stomach muscles were terribly sore from the unpleasant ordeal. My body was completely worn out, no energy in me and completely empty of fluids. That was a rough place to be in a foreign country. Thank goodness breakfast was served at Hotel Ibis, so I had to only ride the elevator down and shuffle my feet to the buffet area. By 7am, I was living off of grapefruit juice, chopped pears and corn flakes. All eating was agonizingly slow. After that hefty workout of lifting spoons and walking, I went back to sleep until 9am, when I got some more breakfast. I knew that if I didn't get energy and fluids into my body, I would be in a terrible world of hurt. Two more hours of sleep and I was forced out of my room by the checkout time. By now, my body was feeling fine, but there was just no energy there. After sitting in the lobby for half an hour just to rest from packing and getting out of my room, I was able to strike out into the city, catching the tram down to Oktogon Square and then I walked the a block. I was forced to rest for 5 minutes, then I walked another block until I found the metro to Szechenyi Baths. The Szechenyi Baths were just what I needed to lift my spirits. After a slow plodding walk, I was able to finally make it there. Rick Steves' entrance instructions are on target but they are overly complicated for the average user. Just buy a 2,400Ft 3 hour card, pass through the barricade by passing the card you receive over the scanner and you are in. Find the gender appropriate locker room, search out an empty locker, put your stuff it in, grab the attention of an attendant and receive a roped ID. Whatever you do, do not loose that tag or forget your locker number. You will be toast because there is no way to recover your things without that tag. There are a dizzying array of bath temperatures and options. Try them all. Plus all the saunas and steam rooms. And check out the underground sauna with ice chip maker to scrub down with. That sauna runs around 80 degrees Celsius or 176 degrees Fahrenheit. You can't stay in there very long. Going through these different baths lifted my sagging spirits. Just something about playing in the water, though doing some bikini watching definitely helps, too. I grabbed an expensive but worth-it fruit ice cream and sat around people watching. I ended up using almost all of my 3 hours and still got back 300Ft as a use refund. I wasn't sure how that all worked but I wasn't complaining. It was really a good deal. Rick Steves was right - of anything you do in Budapest, you must check this out. Just make sure you bring your own swimwear unless you are bold enough to rent one. To germophobes, that's a big ewwww. The Americans and Canadians I spoke with about the massages described them as an "interesting" experience. It's not quite what you might think and if it's too rough, it's difficult if not impossible to communicate that. I didn't try it, but perhaps next time. By this time, my guts were starting to feel a little bit off. That's to be expected after a night of hell. I caught the metro and tram back to Hotel Ibis, hung out for a few hours resting and then took the metro back to the train station. Again, catching the train was a stress inducing activity. My train was slated to leave at 19:45 and it was 20:25 when I noticed other people I talked to about the train becoming rather shifty and agitated, too. No one seemed to know which platform the train was on because it just wasn't announced on the clattering flapper schedule board. At about 20:30, the platform of the train finally came up and there was a mad rush of people toward the platform. Within 10 minutes, the train was moving. If you were in the restroom when the announcement came, you could easily miss your ride. Once the train time passes, you just have to suffer and wait for the late announcement because you don't know just how tight the departure time is. And, your destination isn't even listed in the first column of the display, as one might expect. Also, the words are written in the local English characters. In my case, I was headed to Prague but over in Eastern Europe, it is referred to as Praha. So, at best, you are guessing. It's pretty scary, really. I met some other Americans on the way and we shared our confusion and frustration. Funny how you think things aren't all that easy to understand and are slow at home. We've got it so good. I'm berthed with a Japanese PhD student studying cate brain/eye interaction in Budapest. Apparently there's quite a Japanese community, due to Toyota and other large companies, in Hungary. That was something else completely unexpected. This train is not an ICE (Express) fast train, so we seem to stop at every possible station along the way as we rumble into the dark landscape. There were two passport checks during the night. Combine that with the slight fear of having your bags ripped off and a slightly uncomfortable bed and you have a poor night of sleep. I sleep with my legs on my backpack turned upside down. At least that might wake me should someone try to steal my pack. Saturday, May 26, 2007 Prague, Czech Republic $1 US = 20.5 Czech Crows (Czech Koruna) Welcome to Praha or Prague. A very early arrival into Prague and before too long, my host Clabbe appeared to meet me. He's a tall, dark hair Swede. Aren't all Swedes supposed to be tall, blond and blue-eyed? Apparently not! Yes, I'm staying with a Swede in the Czech Republic. Clabbe was good enough to take me through all the main tourist sites in the morning before the crush of tourists arrived that he warned me about. The old town section of Prague is very pleasant, with an amazing quantity of architectural variety. All one has to do is look up from the Soviet cleansed ground level arcade and there the beauty of Prague will be. The Astronomical Clock is a sight to behold. The time is shown in many ways, daily time, astrological time, monthly, Roman, Gregorian and every other possible way of keeping time. Individual days of the year are marked and there are some other ways of representing time I've never seen before. Fascinating! The characters on the clock move about from 9am to 8pm. Too bad we missed that, being there at 7am. But, as I learned, missing the unpleasant crowds and pick pockets was a decent trade. The two cathedral spires in the city square, kiddie-corner to the astronomical clock, are stunning in comparison because there are over 1,000 differences in their construction. Normally, cathedral spires are made to be the some but not on the Prague cathedral. Just looking at the two large wooden windows in the top of the towers makes their differentiation easy to note. The Charles Bridge is filled with fun and enjoyable trivia, too. There is a plaque worn to a polished state by all the countless hands that have touched it. One side is good luck for the person, the other side is good luck for the owner's pet. Both sides were quite shiny. I only sampled one side. Across the river, there is the John Lenin wall. This was the second incarnation after the first was destroyed, I think by flooding. It has endless graffiti, layers upon layers. Funny thing is this is on a wall of a church courtyard. The church officially donated the side of their wall to replace the destroyed one. The graffiti is invited up to a point. If there is something that bothers the church, they have covered up the offensive writing. But, with so much mess on the wall, one would be hard pressed to detect that. From the looks of things, this particular church tolerates quite a lot. I began to realize that Clabbe is quite an expert on Prague. He explained that he was fed up with Swedish complaining, requirements for Japanese-like conformity in appearance and actions and decided to do something about it. He began applying for jobs on the internet and landed a job as the distribution manager for the Anheiser-Busch related beer exporter out of the Czech Republic. Not a bad gig. After getting the job and knowing nothing about Prague, he spent a great deal of time cruising Wikipedia, sponging up an inordinate amount of information about his new city, both in current physical and historical knowledge. He has a breadth and depth that I have only seen in a very few persons around the world. And he's not paid to know this. We visited the high water markes from the 2002 river flood. The water was 8 feet deep, 1/3 a mile away from the river channel. That 500 year flood turned the city of Prague into a Czech version of Venice for a few weeks. Clabbe hadn't slept at all the night prior to my arrival due to a Couchsurfing.com party. He artfully ended our tour and guided me on the tram back to his flat in south east Prague, where he gave me his only key and locked himself in his flat. Without me, he had no way to easily extricate himself. I could do as I want while he got some much needed rest. Being feet-dragging tired myself, I hoped the exploration of the city would recharge me. Leaving Clabbe literally locked inside his flat, for the door was a double deadbolt design, I began leaving digital breadcrumbs on my camera so I could find my way back to the #6 tram to Lavender Street. I didn't want to be lost or late, as Clabbe was hosting another Couchsurfing.com get together tonight at Dogs Bullocks, a local pub. I should have just stayed at Clabbe's and slept. My body was dead tired and unenergetic. I took the tram for a while, then walked, then grabbed another tram. It was a very slow method of getting around the city. I discovered just how bad the crush of tourism really was in Prague. From a distance, at 11am, the Charles Bridge looked like it was Main Street Disneyland at noon in July. Egads. Pushing to the Old Town square, eating an overpriced sandwich and soda, I decided it would have been better to just rest and recover myself. All the while walking around, I made sure to have a good grip on my camera to slow a snatch and grab attempt. My wallet was buried deep inside my front pocket. And I had some cash in my other hiding places just in case. People even wear day packs on their chests, making it clear just how bad the Old Town area really was. I slowly struggled back to Clabbe's flat at 4pm and I crashed out hard on the bed, just after a few seconds of laying my head down. Clabbe woke me at 6pm so we could do laundry the Czech way. We walked over to a laundry mat, put our clothes in the microscopic 0.8 cubic foot washers and went to the other room to have a tasty Czech beer. Now this is how laundry should be done. At least one could pass the time pleasantly while the drone of the washer and dryer machines filled the other room. I showered and cleaned up before heading out to meet other couch surfers, taking my body's edge off since it was 31 degrees Celsius and 80% humidity. Yuck! Dog Bullocks was nice enough and it was a happening place. I even got to enjoy the Prague and Czech specialty of steak tartar. You take a bunch of spices, mix it into the raw ground sirloin and blend in the raw egg. Since Clabbe led the charge and ordered the same, I had no choice but to be brave on my still unstable stomach. Always try the local specialties, especially when someone else leads by example. It was really fun to meet some other Pragians, a large Indian contingent of Couchsurfers out for a long weekend out of Germany. We partied and drank until a paltry 1am, when I and others threw in the towel. Most of these people had been up until 5am today so they had a good excuse and mine was wreckage recovery. When Clabbe and I returned to his flat, I was out in one minute flat. Sunday, May 27, 2007 Morning seemed to come too early. I got a taste of how it feels to be a late bird, a morning hater. That's really a painful way to start the day and go through life. Clabbe and I met up with Vickoff, one of the local Pragian guys who is hosting Sarah, another Couchsurfer in the city. Vickoff is a pretty funny, laid back guy. Sarah is a Harvey Mudd graduate touring the world for a year before heading back to school in Boston to do HIV research. We went over to the massive city graveyard, containing over a million buried people, explicitly created to house all of the Plague victims in the 1600's. Ironically, we encountered Danielle, a Pragian we partied with last night, touring around with her Indian crew visiting from Germany. How funny. The entire city to wander and you run into the same people you saw last night in a place far, far away from where you are now. We all joined forces and went on a graveyard architecture tour and then continued on through the city. We moved quickly through Old Town and Clabbe shared his extensive Prague knowledge with our now enlarged group. Really, he could have held a little tour guide flag and we could have easily followed him, his descriptions and directions were so engaging. We moved across the city on trams and made our way up to General Big Horse (General Smitckey?). This is the largest man sitting on horse statue in the world. I've seen plenty of bronze statues and this one definitely takes the cake. The interesting thing about this place is it's not on the regular tourist route and there were only a few people around. The mausoleum is covered in communist and Soviet art. It's well worth going out of your way to see this, if nothing else to get away from the crushing crowds and to see something totally different. Some people believe the mausoleum is full of black magic, especially because it is rarely opened and some sort of strange aura surrounds the place. I can't tell you about the magic or the aura of the location, but only that there is a huge statue of a very successful general who was blind. He and his horse have a commanding view of Prague. We were completely off the tourist circuit. The park was almost deserted, save for a few couples wandering around. This was a nice respite from the crushing crowds of old town. Lunch was 187Ck ($9.30US) for 2 Fantas (0.3L), Czech onion and garlic soup and goulash, all Czech specialties. I provided quite a bit of entertainment to the Czechs at the table because I ate my goulash incorrectly, not soaking up the oily sauce with the bread and scooping up the meat. No matter how right you think you have always been about how to eat something, you'll be proved wrong somewhere. Riding the tram up to the massive Prague Castle and Cathedral made our visit more enjoyable. The walk up would have been a significant undertaking and, given my schedule, walking just wasn't an option. It was the first cathedral I've seen with true large-scale flying buttresses. These are found on cathedrals built in the 1400's and later, well after the age of cathedrals began in the 9th century. It took designers and engineers a long time to figure out how to construct a flying buttress and even longer how to prevent it from collapsing. By the time our group arrived at the cathedral, the building was closed for the day so we were only able to gawk at the outside. Interestingly, there were several stones carved with different locations on them well up on the wall of the cathedral. One was Transylvania. I wondered if this was just ancient graffiti or an indicator where the stone came from or who worked on it. Maybe one day I'll find out. A pleasant walk through the main city park brought us back down to lowland Prague were Clabbe and I took our leave of our Couchsurfing compatriots. We caught the tram back to Clabbe's flat, and, grabbing my seemingly lead-filled backpack, we hopped back on the metro and made it over to the train station with plenty of time. Clabbe and I then grabbed drinks and hung out, idly chatting until my train was to depart. I took leave of Clabbe and thanked him for his excellent guiding and generous hospitality and boarded my train. Previous page   Next page
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