Feb 08
22
I’ll Fly Away
Posted by Stephen22
Tags: protection, travel, work
Whether it was the anticipated dread of a week alone with three small children or part of the normal going-away ritual, Debbie’s good-bye was quite emotional. At the same time, I was putting on my shoes and coat, the airport shuttle van driver was standing outside, and the boys were chattering excitedly at my feet. It’s difficult to be fully engaged when so many things pull in different directions, and I felt badly for Debbie, knowing the days ahead are going to be difficult. I wished I could do better than my hurried hug & kiss, but short good-byes are best.
I’d told the boys the airport shuttle would pick me up, news that created way more excitement than I expected. When I take the boys swimming every week we pretend to be astronauts, the car is a spaceship, and we blast off as we leave the house. A Space Shuttle mission had lifted off a week or so ago, and I’d shown the boys the pictures. When I said “airport shuttle” this week, the boys heard “space shuttle”. Nothing would dissuade them. They were convinced the Space Shuttle would arrive to take me off into space. I don’t know if reality turned out to be a disappointment or not. There was a lot of noisy jumping up and down when the van arrived, so at least some of the excitement stuck.
The flight was uneventful. I had a book to listen to which occupied the trip to the airport, the wait in the departure lounge, and the hour or so after take-off before they served a meal. It was a large aircraft, the flight was packed, and there was a high-school group going to Germany. For many of them it was their first overseas trip and excited chatter filled the cabin the whole way. I sat and gazed out the window, remembering the excitement of air travel in my youth. I still like to fly, but I’ve grown jaded in my old age. When we landed in Frankfurt some of the girls were hyperventilating, this was such an unbelievably wonderful exciting thrilling moment. We’re actually in Germany! For me it was a two-hour wait for a connecting flight in an unfamiliar airport. Like I said: jaded. I’d managed maybe two hours of sleep overnight, so maybe that had something to do with it.
I found out where my departure gate was, then strode the length of the terminal to shake out the long-haul stiffness. Next I settled down to read my Budapest guide book, cover to cover. OK, so now I was starting to get a little bit excited. In due course we took off for Budapest. Another uneventful flight, except that the pilot cut the power too soon on landing. I heard the engines spool down, looked at the ground and thought, we’re a little too high. There’s going to be a bump. BANG! Sure enough, the plane slammed down hard. Women screamed. Children started crying. Businessmen shook their heads. Tsk, tsk. Bad pilot. Welcome to Budapest.
Work had arranged a rental car for me, so printout in hand I approached the rental counters. Hmm. My sheet said Auto Europe but none of the counters had that name. The nearest was EuropCar. Close enough. So I went up to the counter and asked. No, we don’t have a car reserved for you. Let me see that sheet. Ah! Auto Europe is a travel agent. They will have organized something with one of the companies here. Which one? You’ll have to ask them all. Sigh! So I started down the row. Do you have a reservation? Let me see that sheet. No, nothing here. Next.
The next-to-last was Budget. Let me see that sheet. Yes! We have a car reserved for you. Sign here. Relief! The guy behind the counter was very friendly and helpful, explaining about the prepaid highway toll and how the GPS worked. I was glad it all worked out in the end. Much later I received an email from the travel agency that had booked the car, telling me the rental company was Sixt. They were the next counter beyond Budget. I was scammed! The Budget guy looked at my printout, thought yes, we can give him a car for that price, and pretended my booking was with him. I don’t know whether to be glad for his help or annoyed at his deception.
The drive to my hotel was OK. Downtown Budapest, lots of traffic, narrow streets with no discernible pattern, incomprehensible signs with too many kays and esses and zeds. My beautiful Garmin GPS made it all easy, although it was comical hearing the English speech synthesizer trying to pronounce Hungarian street names.
The next panic was parking. My hotel was on a pedestrian avenue with no vehicle access. Having delivered me to my address, the GPS went silent. No amount of browsing the menus would elicit any helpful hints on the nearest parking garage. Or any parking garage. The GPS had led me to this alleyway and cars were parked along the side, with one pair of wheels in the gutter and the other up on the sidewalk. Oh well. When in Rome… So I parked and locked the car, not knowing what the time limits were, whether I’d get a ticket or get towed. Looking up and down the dingy downtown alley, covered in graffiti, I wondered how safe the car would be and prayed for God’s protection on it.
I asked the hotel receptionist about overnight parking. She didn’t know, so she called over the bartender. He didn’t know, so they got one of the restaurant waiters. He didn’t know, so they got a cleaner. She didn’t know. The receptionist apologized and confessed she wasn’t actually from Budapest herself, and was unfamiliar with the area. Besides, everybody here walks or takes the bus. The difference between Europe and North America, where nobody walks or takes the bus if they can help it. So it seemed like the alley was it, for better or worse.
I walked up to my room, closed the door and flopped on the bed, exhausted by the trip and tempted to just sleep. But I was in Budapest! I had sights to see! Photos to take! But that’s a story for another post.
