It was like everything was telling me not to go to Budapest. I lost my passport, bank card and keys.
I woke up Gina with breakfast, we watched New Girl then flapped about as we realised we still had SO MUCH TO DO.
Had to refresh my memory on the dodgy Hungarian public transport system.
So Jude Law was in my house the other day and I was upstairs wearing pjs and covering myself in Sudocrem. What if I had gone downstairs to use the loo and bumped into glorious Jude? Well I’ll tell ya what, he’d probably fall in love with me, then it’d get awkward cos i’d be all like, ‘nah Jude you’re not my type. I know i’m the spitting image of Sienna Miller yet with more personalty and breath taking intellect, but it’s not my jam, ya dig?’ JKS JKS JKS JKS, i’d now be the proud owner of one restraining order, woopsies hehheh heh eheh… eh?
I love London, but there’s something so comforting about Hungary. Perhaps it’s just the hostel scene and knowing so many familiar places, but even when I venture off by myself, the whole place seems to encapsulate what Europe is about- a patchwork of historical architecture entwined with the modern world.
^ That’s me trying to mix things up a bit and sound intelligent. Lemme know if I pulled it off.
I’m getting more nervous about the fact I didn’t back bikini bottoms and there’s a rave in the old bath houses tonight. Hold out for me dear Marks and Sparks cotton specials, if there was ever a time for ya pants to not fall apart/ go see through, a bath party in Eastern Europe would be it.
I sat next to a weird Hungarian dude on the plane. He smelled like cheese and onion crips but it was deffo border line with the smell that someone leaves after a heavy session with the bog. Nem yo.
I’m writing this at intervals as I travel to the promised lands (Hungary). I’m now wedged between some Hungarian chavs. Also annoyed that I planned to surprise everyone before they left for the sparty, looks like i’ll be swigging some hefty 200ft wine on my own on the way down.
Also, not too sure about being in a bikini when it’s 8 degrees (I know this because the pilot told us). The water at the bath parties is hot, but I also know what else is in that water and I aint keeping warm in Szecska soup that’s for sure.
Tom’s already invited my to join him on a Scavenger trail. Dunno what it involves but excited all the same. Tom could suggest ping pong using new born chicklettes as the ball and I’d be down for it. G’wan Tom.
Dunno if blogging in public is the done thing in Budapest. Feeling more and more like a total tool as I ride Metro 3, which probably hasn’t been serviced since the 1800’s.There’s a time and a place for looking like a pretentious twit, and this is not one of them. Oh shoot, now I have to rearrange the mass of tampons in my bag in order to put away my mac. There ya go Hungarian chavvies, how’d ya like that? Periods, yeah.
Scotty wants to be in the blog. Now he is.