Budapest Part 2

OOHHH SHIT ANOTHER BLOG POST SO FUCKIN SOON!?? WHO IS THIS GUY!?  WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH STEVE!?

Jk ya’ll don’t worry, its the real Steve, of Traveling With Steve fame, just with a lot more time on my hands now that I’m unemployed (things are goin’ great!).  Which pays BIG dividends for you, the loyal blog follower!

Speaking of – the Facebook likes have really dwindled since blog post #1 way back in April and, I hate to bring this up, but that’s why I do this, guys, for the little red noties, hanging there at the top of my screen when I log in like Christmas stockings full of social media validation.  Honestly, you don’t even gotta read the rest of the post, just go back and like it, we’ll both be better off, this is probably gonna be garbage anyway.

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Plenty of pics to break it up though, don’t sweat it, 1 pic per paragraph, that’s my new rule.  New post, new rule, new blog, new Steve! No job!  No job, no problem!  This blog is my livelihood!

Quick recap from last time, I had just finished a day wandering around Budapest with the two pyramid-scheme Polish girls.  Luckily, it wasn’t a complete waste of time, because I did get some sick new travel pics for my Tinder.

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Somebody get this guy some pussy STAT

The next day I went one of those free walking tours of Budapest, which they have in most major European cities, and are great because the tour guides are always like young and cool, and you just tip them however much you want ($0, unless they fuckin’ impress me, I did improv in college), and they’re usually pretty good ways to see the city off the bat.  You learn a lot, its low-key, and most of the tourists are other young people, so you can talk about like, you know, beer and doing coke and stuff.

I took some solid shots of Budapest, much better than the ones from the second deck of the sightseeing bus, go figure:

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St. Stephen’s Basilica

 

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St. Stephen’s Basilica pt. 2

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The Chain Bridge,  Hungary’s equivalent of the Brooklyn Bridge.  I mean, sort of, the Brooklyn Bridge is 300 feet longer, but who’s counting?  Wow, good job Hungary, what a biiiig bridge you got there!

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This is the Pest side of Budapest, taken from the Buda side.  It used to be two cities – that’s the first and only fun fact anyone who’s been to Budapest will ever tell you about it

At the top of this giant hill we climbed, during which our tour guide told us how in Hungarian “pussy pussy” meant like “hello,” I met these two British girls, Sian (pronounced like Sean (Paul) but with a British accent) and Alison (normal), who were in Budapest for the weekend.  There were also these two Indian dudes, one of whom was real fuckin’ weird.

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Weird Indian dude in purple, normal Indian dude next to him, there’s the two British girls back there, and literally everyone else in this picture is a Chinese tourist

The rest of the tour was pretty good, idk I’d get into the stuff we saw but I really don’t remember much that I learned about it and nobody really cares to read me rehash it anyway, look it up if you care so goddamn much, here:   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Budapest

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What you really care about is the PICS, that’s what keeps em comin’ back!

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BOOM here’s another one, that’s the sexy sexy Parliament building, third largest in the world, yeah that lil’  trivia tidbit’s for free, don’t forget to like!

Later on I went up to the top of St. Stephen’s Basilica (remember the pic from before?  Cool how everything ties together isn’t it, that’s called foreshadowing, def worth a like!), tied for number one largest tower in Budapest (and comin’ in number two for largest tower belonging to a guy named Steve, yeah you know what I’m talkin’ about), which had some great views of the city:

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Down in that square there were a bunch of young people on rented mopeds just zipping around, like, for fun.  Which makes no sense to me; why in the world would you travel all the way to Budapest just so you can scoot around a church square at 7 mph, looking like a fucking asshole?

On the way back down I randomly ran into the British girls again.  We made plans to meet up later at a bar crawl that the hostel they were staying at put on every night.  Like the free walking tours, in most major European cities you can also find a bar crawl like this that caters to young English speaking tourists looking to get belligerently drunk and ruin every bar they go to (count me the fuck in).

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Which way to the next cultural experience?

For those keeping track at home, yeah that’s right I’m on plans number TWO with foreign girls I met – two days, two plans!!  Pest Side, Best Side!  Pest Side Story!

Next stop was the Heroes’ Square, a big ass monument which is pretty cool, but more importantly offered a fantastic opportunity to take shots of the dozens of Asian tourists that were there.

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Ohh fuck yes

Asian tourists are seriously a sight all on their own.  I got ten times as much enjoyment out of watching them than I did from the square itself.  I saw a lot of them on this trip, and they always had a few things in common:  They always travel in large tour groups of like 30-40, they have umbrellas and huge hats to protect them from the sun, and they wear a lot of really colorful clothing that looks like they found it on clearance at Ross.

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This dude on the right in the yellow hat is scopin’ out the hoes

And of course there’s the pictures they take; all tourists take photos, but these guys take it to another level.  They take shot after shot, and most of the time its just of one person.

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Ok hold still honey I’m just gonna take 36 more, just in case

Also, nobody has adopted selfie sticks like old Asian women.  They fucking love it.  They would stand in one spot for 20-30 minutes just taking selfies from every possible angle.

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Can they tell how big my hat is?

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Get out of my selfie bitch

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My name is Inigo Montoya

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EXPECTO…PATRONUM!!!!

Later on that night, I met up with the British girls for the bar crawl, which was really just an exquisite exchange of culture; I think we both learned a lot from one another, and both came back more enlightened and refined.

Sian and Allison hadn’t met many Americans before, so I think it was pretty exciting for them to encounter one in the wild.  Which was great for me, because I got to basically set their entire perception of what Americans are like.  A real opportunity to positively portray Americans, at an unsteady time in our relations with our European allies.  It seems like a lot of the foreign perception of Americans is of us being loud, hyper-patriotic, overconfident douches who play a lot of drinking games like beer pong and flip cup.

So of course I represented my country well, and confirmed every single one of these stereotypes to the utmost of my ability.

The bar crawl started with a big game of flip cup, which I guess is only really played a lot in the US, and all these inexperienced foreigners were fucking up their flips over and over like a bunch of first-year GDIs.  So when I nailed it on the first try and downed my inch of beer in a half second – par for the course at any frat house in the colonies – I was like this drinking game messiah, sent from the New World to show everyone how we party in the greatest country on earth.  Then I started chanting USA! USA! and Allison looked simultaneously mortified and kind of starstruck – right before her eyes was a real live American, fist pumping and aggressively chanting the initials of his country, just like they do on TV.

Europeans also love red solo cups; apparently they don’t have those in Europe, but they’re in all the movies, so if they’re at a party then its like a real novel, fun thing.  They asked me if we actually drank out of red solo cups at parties.

Uh yeah, only all the fuckin’ time.

In return, I got to learn a ton of great British words and phrases.  There’s cracking, which means like, “great”, as in “I’ll be at the bar crawl in 10 minutes,” “Cracking.”  They also say gutted, which means sad, like “My phone died before I could finish the snapchat of that American chugging his beer, absolutely gutted.”  Or when I told them I had a travel blog, they said I better not “slate” them in it, which means I guess to talk shit about, so an example of slating would be “The British girls were cool, but were straight up garbage when it came to flip cup and chanting USA.”

Taking a piss, in British, means to like be kidding around.  Also they say trousers instead of pants, and pants means underwear!  And they don’t say panties; these girls thought panties was a really gross word, like moist, or phlegm, or succulent.

They also got a real kick out of American dollar bills.  Sian waved a one dollar bill around and said “It just feels meant to be given to a stripper.”

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This excellent selfie is the only memento of our cross-cultural exchange

The bar crawl was a lot of fun, though after the first couple bars its a bit of a blur.  On my way home, I was walking down the narrow streets that surround the bars on the Pest side of the city, and this woman on a corner grabbed my wrist and said “Hey – hey – you like sex?”  Which, I gotta say, excellent salesmanship on her part.  Get them saying yes right off the bat.  I politely declined and kept walking, and about 50 feet past my watch almost fell off my wrist.  The buckle had been almost completely taken off – the hooker tried to steal my watch!  She almost succeeded too; it was pretty impressive.   She must be good with her hands.

So that’s it for this post, and for Budapest!  Next stop, meeting up with some big Scottish girl and her British boyfriend in Slovenia!

Thanks for reading, and hey if you have some thoughts on the blog so far, please leave a comment; I’d love to hear your honest opinions!  Only positive ones, though; if you’ve got something negative to say, go ahead and shove it up your fuckin ass, I don’t wanna hear that shit.

 

 

 

 

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