More Zany Adventures

The day began with a trip to a Hungarian folk festival. While somewhat small the place certainly had a distinctive character, in addition to a wide variety of both food and souvenirs. Cuisine included goulash, kielbasa, other forms of meat in a tube, and hollow cylinders of fried dough dusted with cinnamon, sugar, or coconut. Your truly had the latter for breakfast, and found it most delicious. Music was provided by live folk singers. Most of these wore old-fashioned Hungarian clothes and sang what I assume were old-fashioned Hungarian songs. However, the festivities were interrupted at one point by an old Irishman approaching the mic and providing about 30 minutes of drinking songs at the top of his lungs. Where this aged leprechaun came from and why he sang at a Hungarian folk festival is beyond me, and may be nothing less than a mystery for the ages.

After eating and music came souvenirs. All manner of curious things were for sale, from jewelry and ornaments to hand-made toys, wooden and stone furniture, and various alcohol-related sundries. Several of you readers will be receiving gifts courtesy of these merchants’ stocks, I might add. The crowning delight of this festival was my discovery of a flask among the wares of a metalworker. Soon I shall have the money to fill it with Palinka, and life will truly be delightful. (If a bit hazy.)

Once were had toured the festival our group set out to Margit Island. This two-kilometer ovoid sits in the middle of the Danube, in central Budapest. The whole thing is one huge park, barred from vehicular traffic and open all year. When we arrived hundreds of people lounged on its beaches, played at soccer in its fields, and generally had a good time. After wandering about on foot, we discovered several rentable motor vehicles resembling golf carts. *A metaphorical pillar of light descends from the heavens, while an angelic chorus sings Hallelujah.*

Now, you may not think anyone can go joyriding on something whose top speed is less than that of elderly joggers. If so, you clearly need to exercise your imagination. Two people could fit inside, and two people on a seat in the back. The driver’s objective at all times was to throw the passengers riding outside the vehicle onto the ground, preferably amid loud shouts and the laughter of nearby Hungarians. Yours truly had two rather interesting accidents. First, Montana hit the breaks so hard that my hand went through the hole masquerading as a back window, colliding rather forcefully with the back of Candice’s head. Secondly, the same bloody driver managed to turn so hard that I was flung off the buggy. Since I was holding on to an edge, however, the net effect was me being swung from the back of the vehicle to a spot directly in front of it. For a couple seconds I was faced with a most ignomius death, roughly akin to being run down by a blind grandmother in a motorized wheelchair. Thankfully the battery powered car came to a halt, and I merely died a little inside amidst peals of laughter from both friends and passerby.

Regrettably, our 60 minutes of rented buggy time ran out shortly after. We decided to rent bikes for another hour, and explore the island that way. Of course I lost the main group within 45 seconds of our departure. Unable to turn around and not collide with a person or tree, I neglected to note that everyone but me had turned off the main path. So I spent the next hour on my own dodging old people, children, joggers, and the Danube while pedaling a bright red bike with a shiny bell fit for the coolest of seven-year old children. Since most of the island had already laughed at us during the buggy incident, however, I didn’t mind terribly.

Once we re-convened outside the bike racks our group sought dinner, and broke up for the night. Tomorrow’s entry will not recount further adventures, but will instead explain why precisely we’re here to begin with. If words like distributed computing, grid system, and economic modeling sound less than thrilling, you may want to skip the next blog. I won’t be able to tell anyway. (Or will I??? *ominous reverb*)