budapest a la mode

You can do that on the internet?!?!? is a phrase I've been saying lately.

There are the obvious ones: Facebook, email but they get boring after awhile. I mean, absolutely, creeping drunk pictures of old friends and the odd message is nice, but its like a super genius using only one percent of his brain. the guys here have opened my eyes to what seems to be a land of endless opportunity. It started off modestly enough. We started this blog which I personally believe to be pretty awesome. The "I really like your blog" comments in person and online continue to be made, even by people I've never met. I have heard a few comments that my posts are difficult to read. something about the lack of capitalization and use of paragraphs/indentation. i will apologize now and do my best to correct these short comings in the future.

continuing on with the beauty of the internet. Skype has got to be one of the coolest things ever. Last night I had a conference call with my parents in London and my sister in Kingston. I got to explain to them the insanity of my weekend. Tristan has a profile on Couchsurfing.com (another really cool internet thing) and he got a message from these Hungarian girls who after getting to know tristan better over a few drinks, invited him and his friends (Rock and I) out to this club in the middle of nowhere. The journey, by bus to a hotdog stand so far outside the city that the stars were clearly visible confused me not for its location but for the long line of people waiting to dine on the heatlamp sausages at 11:30. The consortium of semi-drunk Hungarians who were our hosts led us down back alleys, across train tracks, over chainlink fences, across a river, and then we finally saw the searchlights, stretching out into the dark night and the low rumble of one million decibels worth of bass 500 yards away. taxicabs and stretch limousines brought hundreds of people from around budapest to a club called Studio. At this point we weren't sure what to expect. inside was mayhem. surrounding the DJ table were 500 white candles. The wall beyond saw 5 floors of lingerie clad young women dancing with helium balloons and stilettos. lining the walls were twenty platforms upon which satan danced while angels swung from the ceiling balancing what seemed to be heaven and hell. Surrounding the two bars were catwalks and as the night progressed everything from muscle men to midgets, from aliens to acrobats, police babes to pornstars marched, danced, flexed, skipped and juggled on that stage. Oh ya and we were supposed to be dancing to techno beats. we just had to pick our jaws up from off the floor. once we got home from that circus my alarm clock rang 3 hours later signaling that Freshcamp was about to begin.

I dont have much to say about Freshcamp.

The bus ride to Eger, Hungary was filled with napping and Hungarian folk songs. In northern Hungary, Eger is supposedly known as Wine Country. I'm sure no one limited themselves to just wine however. Lunch was french fries and lamb gravy with chopped cabbage on the side and gassy water avec chunks of something that neither Bill or I want to think about. with upset stomachs and the taste of lamb in our mouths we woke up 3 hours later from a much needed nap and ventured to the nearest Tesco for supplies (mostly coke and beer). the bus to dinner was scheduled to leave at 6:30, so when we got back from tesco at 6:15 still smelly from the bus ride and the night before, with the taste of lamb and cabbage in our mouths and not a drink drank, we made a move.

running through the hostel in towels and liquor in hand we quickly showered, drank, shaved, and brushed our teeth arriving to the bus on time drunk off CBA brand whisky (thats equivalent to what whisky would taste like if Price Chopper had its own brand). after this, my memory has been constructed mostly by others, as mental capacity diminished exponentially as the night wore on. I remember the live music at dinner. Men with moustaches and xylophones plunking out Hungarian folk music while waiters carried metre long flutes filled with different wines. the end of the flute was plugged by their finger (probably a questionable hygienic practice back home) until they fired the wine into glasses, into mouths and onto table cloths. I dont remember what we ate, but I remember dancing with Guillaume in a crazy french style around the restaurant, telling Laura about my understanding of the finer things in life, and then suddenly we were all back on the bus somehow the Canadians dominating the 'Spiches' on the microphone singing "Do you hear that? Listen... A wimba way, a wimba way, (a little lower) a wimba way a wimba way" followed by the high pitched crescendo "Dee Dee Dee Dee De DEE De DEe De Da Dee Dum Da Duh waaaaayy" i only remember being very loud on the microphone and telling someone who looked grumpy to loosen up. some people dont share our enthusiasm about bus rides.

When we got back, the gymnasium (you're probably struggling with visuals right now. the hostel we were staying at was actually a girls private school. there was a gymnasium and a cafeteria attached with basketball and soccer courts outside. nobody played soccer, unless soccer could be considered a relay race with three teams of 150 hammered international students where fermented peaches swimming in a liqueur consisting of 20 year old fruit juices and nail polish remover which was said to blind those who consume more than 3 litres are ingested [or rather held in the mouth until the participant returned to the team to start the next one in line on their mission to be the best team and spit the oozy goo into a plastic cup]. I dont remember who won but then suddenly [it may have taken 15 minutes to develop] my team was lapping up a different bowl of unsure liqueur trying to be the first team to win. that game ended with me picking up a table and pouring its spilled booze into my mouth probably embarrassing myself and my country in the process) was a roaring dance party at which point i really cant recall much. I was told in the morning that during a hungarian kissing game i knocked over one of the student organizers and had an infraction with another young lady over a bottle of champagne. I apologized in the morning for what I had done and those of you reading this if you were upset by my actions at any point please take the opportunity to send me an email at mike_melito@hotmail.com and discuss it fully with me. Needless to say, Freshcamp was unreal and I would recommend the girls highschool in Eger as the place to stay.

The morning was slow and painful. The baths in Miscolc (sp) were loud because they were in a cave. Lunch wasn't so great and I think everyone was really happy to get home.

ya, so the internet is pretty sweet. I just got an eBay account and have bought sweet stuff already and am excited to purchase more. The guys and I booked trips to Ireland, Egypt (Im super glad theyre coming with otherwise i'd be in Cairo by myself which would be cool, but definitely cooler with them), Milan, Prague (we're staying at Sir Toby's from the 13 to the 15) and have discussed a possible trip to the Cologne Carnival in two weeks. its apparently bigger than St Patricks Day in Dublin, but this was coming from two Germans who are from Cologne themselves. Either way I think its worthy to check out. Oh and theres this totally fantastic site called Couchsurfing.com. Rock and Tristan are members and they've put our couch up on it. Already (like in the last two days) we have an ex-US military guy who plays the ukelele and harmonica who is staying with us and coming to Prague with us too and next week there will three austrian girls (well 30 year olds, young women) staying with us for a few days. I hope its all for the best and everyone has a good time. rock and I are hoping to Couch surf when we're in Milan and meet up with other Couch surfers for the AC Milan game on the 26th.

And the last thing the internet is sweet for is torrenting e-books. dont tell the publishers.