Before I begin the substance of this next experience, let me recount to you the havoc that daylight savings time and poor translations can wreak on the best laid plans. Several days ago we were informed that an ‘excursion’ was planned for last Sunday, to a place called the ‘turn of the Danube,’ and that if we felt like going, to be at a bus depot (whose name I can’t remember) at 8:30AM. Initially I planned not to go, since I do not relish waking at the crack of dawn. Besides, by the phrasing I assumed we were taking a bus to some scenic lookout, snapping a few photos, and coming back; potentially nice, but not worth losing my one good night’s sleep per week. On the off chance that both Montana and Candice went I told them to wake me. After all, there’s no sense hanging around the apartment by myself. Well. Come 8:00AM (or so I believed), I woke up from the sound of Mike entering the flat. Assuming that my roommates were here, since nobody woke me, I lazily got out of bed and figured I say hello. I shortly discovered that both had departed, and Mike wanted to go on the trip. So suddenly we had 15 minutes to get halfway across the city. Breakfast and a shower were skipped, and we were off.
Upon arrival at the rendezvous point, we met Felix and Peter. They informed us that some time last night, daylight savings time came to Hungary. So it was, in fact, 9:30AM. Thankfully our hosts had realized what might happen, and waited for us. Unfortunately, about 9 other American students apparently woke up, decided they missed it, and went back to sleep. Furthermore, Candice and Montana had actually just woken up early and gone out to breakfast. And as a final caveat, the bus actually took us to the beginning of a 4-hour hike. So tired, hungry, and sorely ill-equipped for a day of climbing mountains and plodding through muddy trails, I disembarked from the bus in a rather foul and still somewhat addled mood.
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