Bucharest, Romania

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Romania is a country that you need to break into. I say this, because at first impression I was going to award it the "shit-hole of eastern Europe" award.
I'll grant you, my overall experience in Romania was pleasant, but the introduction was as bad as one can get in these parts. The journey starts with a train ride from Belgrade to Bucharest. The travel time is roughly twice as long as it rightfully should be. Throughout this journey, I begin to understand why. We begin by travelling at a speed akin to a brisk jog, and stop at every random nowhere location in the surrounding area. Eventually the driver gets his head on straight and starts heading east at a reasonable pace.

We arrive at the Romanian border crossing. The train stops and the passport is taken, not to be seen again for some time. In the meantime, officials board the train with power tools and proceed to disassemble the train; removing walls, seats, and heating fixtures. After these pleasantries, my passport is returned and we are on our way at great speed in the dead of night. Just when I begin to think I might freeze to death, the heating is turned on to "blistering" and I resort to switching from seat to seat to sleep on the cooler of the two for an hour or two before switching.

Sometime during one of these switches, I am situated across from my bad, opposed to under it. Despite being locked and positioned in a relatively inconvenient way, a gipsy manages to burn a hole through one of the compartments and relieve me of my Swiss army knife, and 130 euro stashed within it's leather case. I wake up part way through but do not catch him doing this. My bag appears unmolested at a glance so I give this man the benefit of the doubt and regard him as a fellow traveller. After having robbed me in my sleep, he proceeds to steer the conversation towards asking me for money and cigarettes. It is only after I bid this man farewell that I discover my missing belongings and begin to fantasize about stabbing the man in the eye with my pen.

Having finally arrived, I leave the train to wonder through the streets of Bucharest with a somewhat lighter backpack. It is 6am, cold, dark, and covered with graffiti and dog shit. I begin to question ever coming to this god forsaken hole.

After an hour's worth of aimless wondering I arrive at my hostel and am greeted by a girl absent-mindedly blowing bubbles in the court-yard. My disposition improves as I check in, have breakfast, and borrow a sewing-kit and some super-glue to fix my bag.

A few days later the weather improves and I begin to tour the city in earnest. I begin by travelling a couple hours north to go to a mountain top to gaze at a natural monument dubbed Babele. It is a formation of rocks etched by the wind. It's pretty, but very cold.

Next day in the main city, I visit an outdoor museum of old Romanian houses, which makes for a pleasant walk, but little else. We leave and head down the central Parisian board-walk where we stumble across a local organic market where we browse the goods, sample the local delicacies and have lunch with a few locals. It is at this market that I discover Bucharest is hosting several film festivals over the weekend and decide to see a series of animated shorts that evening. They exceed all expectations. The strangest of these films is "The External World". It is a depiction of the most horrible screwed up things, yet you cannot help but laugh. There was also a nice children's story called "The Gruffalo", a silly animated short called "Mobile", a touching story about "The Little Boy and the Beast", and a twisted short called "Pivot".

Upon my return the the hostel, I find one of my hostel-mates is going to head out to see some Dutch DJ who's performing tonight. With a little convincing, I head out with him. On the way he tells me the DJ's name is Armin Van Buuren, and that he has been recently crowned the number 1 DJ in the world. We get to the venue and pay the laughable sum of $25 to get in. We buy drink tickets and proceed to have the most amazing time listening to music till dawn. I arrive back at the hostel around 7am and sleep.

Next day, I randomly decide to go to Tirnovo Bulgaria on a random recommendation from the hostel manager. Her mother is travelling to Istanbul on the same bus as me that day, and so, we ride together.

Belgrade, Serbia

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Ah Belgrade. This is truly a city that grows on you.

Looking back on it now, I cannot really say why it was this city irked me so at first, but if I were to guess it would be because it seems to have no inherit order to it's madness, the transportation system is a joke at best, service at restaurants is an unheard of concept, and if you look around you will likely find buildings that look like they were bombed yesterday. If you power through and persevere despite all that, you will find Belgrade to be an amazing city with a lot to offer if you simply look past the usual places.

The usual places are the museums, churches, markets, and tours. Yes, some are passable here, and you may even have fun, but they hardly scratch the surface and when compared to other European cities in this light, Belgrade comes out far behind. What you must do is ask "where do you go on a Friday night?" One answer was Bigz.

Bigz is an old publishing house that has been abandoned during the war and recently turned to a squat. From the outside, it is as dilapidated a building as you are likely to come across. The inside does little to sway your impression as most lights, toilets and elevators have either stopped working or were looted some time ago. Several small clubs and businesses decided to set up shop here and maintain a sort of unofficial headquarters. One such business is a jazz club on the top floor of the southern building. Despite the shabby surroundings (or perhaps because of them), this jazz club has become a favourite underground spot for people to come, hang out and listen to great music.

Another favorite is the cultural centre, which has taken residence under a bridge across the street from a biker bar. Here people gather for events as diverse as a Japanese Udon night, or an electronic music concert by Glass Candy.

Lastly, there is the Tri Ladjara, a Jazz club in the new part of town, where the average attendant is either in their 70's or in their 20's. Here these two demographics come together every Tuesday to appreciate good Jazz music played by those who volunteer their time and skills for their love of this music.

There is one more place, a student pub named KST. I was told this would be a fun place to go, but I simply did not have enough time.

Should you find yourself with time to spare during the day, I would highly recommend going to the Kalemegdan castle at the park in the middle of the city, checking out the view at the naked statue there, visiting the Tasmajdan park for a local festival market, and going to the Tesla museum.

Budapest, Hungary

Budapest Album
Caving Album
Terror House Album

This city has so many fun things to do, a single post would not do it justice. Still, I must try.

There are a few things one needs to know about Budapest, most importantly, it's pronounced Buddah-Pesht, and is actually two parts named Buddah and Pesht. Most of the good stuff is on the Pesht side, including the big bath house at the park on the north-east side of the city; it is amazing and a must see. You should also try Langos while here (pronounced Lan-goush), it is essentially deep fried bread with cream and meat. Your health will suffer but your taste buds will rejoice in the ensuing deliciousness.

These must-see attractions aside, the city in general is very beautiful; it is very easy to simply spend days walking around enjoying the sights both day and night. My favourite random sight has got to be the parliament building by the river at night. They light up the night sky, and sea birds flying overhead appear like fireflies circling the rooftops.

The night life too is amazing, as the city is home to many "ruin-bars"; pubs constructed inside of abandoned building and decorated by artists to various themes. In addition to these, a group of hostels within the city has taken it upon themselves to organize nightly group events such as dress-up parties, boat cruises, and bar-hopping nights to ensure there is never a dull moment.

One such organized event was the caving tour in the north-west side of Buddah which takes you deep underground to crawl through one of the largest tunnel systems in Hungary. It is a fun experience, and gives you a strange appreciation for coal miners.

Lastly, there are a great number of museums in Budapest worth visiting. Paramount among these is the "Terror House"; a museum built inside of an old police station dedicated to the horrors that took place under the Nazi and Soviet regimes in Hungary. It is a very dark and twisted museum, better reserved for a cold rainy day.

Munich, Germany

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Ah Munich, has there ever been a city more fond of it's beer? Probably; but few drink it as enthusiastically and with as much style. It should go without saying at if you should find yourself in Munich at the end of September, you are obligated to attend Oktoberfest.

Historically, this festival is a king's wedding party which got out of hand and somehow endured to this day. It was at some point held in October, but moved earlier in the year to take advantage of the good weather. The beer stein is 1L and will cost you roughly 10 euro including tip.

The trickiest part in all this is getting involved in the festival. It is free to enter, and you must acquire a seat before you can be served any beer. To obtain a seat, you can go one of a few routes: you can come in at opening and secure a table having others join you, or come in later and join others, or join a tour group and have them figure it out for you. All work quite well so long as you're adventurous enough.

The best beer around is known as Augustiner Brau, though the others are just as delicious. I would recommend trying the Hefeweizen as well. Whichever beer you drink, take care to moderate yourself, as German beer is exceptionally strong and surprisingly smooth. Note that it is brewed at an even higher alcohol percentage for the festival.

If you've had enough of the festival but are still in the mood for beer, venture to any of the local beer halls. They are significantly cheaper and are a nice way to experience the usual beer culture outside of the festival.

At some point, you may find yourself sober enough to realize there is more to the city than the festival and the beer halls. At such a time I would recommend taking any of the tours that are running in Munich, or simply wonder around. There is a great deal of history here, as well as some impressive architecture and interesting museums.

If you truly have a good deal of time to spend, go to the Deutsches museum. It is without a doubt the largest and most impressive museum I've been to. You can spend a day here from opening to closing visiting the exhibits at a brisk pace, and still not see everything.

Nuremberg, Germany

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I arrive in Nuremberg to meet with a Russian-Jewish girl I was introduced to via CouchSurfing. She is to be my host in Munich, but has invited me to first attend a Russian music festival in the forests near Nuremberg. I decide it is a neat idea and join her. We meet at the train station and we drive on to the festival.

We arrive late, eat a bit in a communal hall, set up some tents, and sit by the fire to the early hours of the morning singing Russian folk songs. It is the first, and likely last time I will use my sleeping bad on this trip, as the night is cold and the sleeping bag provides little to no warmth.

I wake up at an ungodly early hour, build up the fire again and wait for dawn. We have a communal breakfast, and head out as a group to tour the surrounding forests. We get lost a few times, stumble across an old cemetery, a small castle, and a vast corn-field. All in all a good day out.

Once the festival is over we head out to the castle stumbled upon earlier and take a tour inside. The main thing to strike me is the absurd number of deer heads that decorate the main hall.

Having finished with Nuremberg we begin our drive to Munich.

Frankfurt, Germany

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After examining train schedules and prices I decide that train tickets in Western Europe are for chumps and that no person would rightfully pay for one. Luckily, an alternative presents itself in the form of a ride-share. And so I begin my journey by piling into a car with 4 other people going from Amsterdam to Frankfurt.

The journey is pleasant enough albeit a little cramped, and my travel mates are pleasant and interesting. There is a a couple traveling around Europe, a very tall Dane, and a driver trying to get a license for a cab.

Having arrived in Frankfurt I am reminded of my other realization, that hostels in certain parts of Western Europe are kind of pricey. It is here that I have my first CouchSurfing experience with a Russian-Jewish linguist named David. We proceed to drink whiskey while discussing life and languages in partially broken Hebrew. I settle into my designated couch, and awaken the next day to tour Frankfurt.

Frankfurt is a city split in two, with a very organized looking metal and glass city center, bordering a cobble stone old city market. I find both enjoyable enough as I wonder about the city taking in the sights. The glass and steel areas are very clean and creatively designed, and the cobble-stone sections resemble the picturesque parts of Europe one has come to expect. I am especially taken with the city mall structure which looks as if it were sucked into a wormhole.

The one other memory that strikes me in Frankfurt is that of an Ethiopian restaurant I dined in right before my train to Nuremberg was to depart. It was housed in a commercial unit like any other, but was set up to look like the inside of a big tent and had sand in place of a floor.

Amsterdam, Netherlands

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And so I land in Amsterdam.
The flight was long, the in flight movies were mildly entertaining, and the food was passable. Now the real fun begins.

As I go through the usual airport routine, I am surprised to learn that one may only stay a maximum of three months in Europe without a special visa. I am surprised at this undue restriction on people who come to spend all their money, but shrug it off, thinking it's not likely to be much of a problem.
In contrast to the above, I am pleased to find I am treated in a relatively humane manner when making my way through the airport. I am not interrogated by customs, and do not have to strip naked for the amusement of those running the x-ray machines. Must be a European thing.
Lastly, as I make my way towards the city center I am pleased to find the detailed and efficient underground system Europe is famous for, and prepaid SIM cards available for cash.

Brimming with a positive outlook, I board the train and make my way towards my hostel. As with any good journey, I begin by getting completely lost. I wonder the city for hours without a proper map, a smart-phone who's GPS system refuses to work properly, and a poor sense of direction. A few hours and couple vague directions later, I arrive, check in, and drop off my things.

Freed from the tyranny of my backpack, I decide to take to the city yet again. I bump into an interesting Armenian fellow who's been traveling the middle east for three months, and we become fast friends. We tour the city at night, grab a bite to eat, and turn in.

First morning on a new continent, and I am up hours before anyone else. Naturally, I make my way to the common area and kill some time. Hours later, breakfast is served and a few people stumble in from their beds. I grab some food, meet a few people, and head out to see the city by daylight.

I decide to buy a 24 hour pass to the city's attractions with the Armenian, and proceed to the Van Gogh museum. I'm especially impressed by the self portraits and enjoy seeing the originals of the famous works. Starry Night and The Scream are surprisingly absent, but otherwise, a good morning out.

We grab some food, and wonder about some more. We decide to take a bout tour of the city and I fall asleep almost immediately. I am told I did not snore, but rather laid back in my seat with my mouth agape.

The sun is now going down, and we decide it's time to tour the red light district. Surprisingly, we do not find it, despite wondering around for hours.

Following day I wonder about some more and find a lovely park on the outskirts. I join a free guided tour and leave about half-way through to catch a ride to Frankfurt.