Hop. Skip. Jump.

Why does it take three days to get to Hungary?  Because we took the scenic route. That’s right.... on purpose.

But even before that we had to get to NJ. Me from Chicago and Anikó/Robi from Montreal. That was the easy boring part. The real adventure only started when we got to Newark Liberty International Airport.  The travel gods were smiling on us, because after checking in at the kiosk and dropping off our luggage, we realized that Anikó and Robi also got marked for TSA Pre-Check.  Yay.  So we flew through security.  And then our gate was the first one on the concourse. No walking needed, thank you very much. We sat down at the gate by one of the fancy shmancy tables with charging stations and an iPad for each guest, which urges you to Drink, Play, Eat... so we did. Clicked on a few tabs with pictures of drinks on them - that subsequently magically appeared. Robi played games, Anikó checked into Facebook and I finished checking us in for our Wizz Air flight. Boarding commenced and that went smoothly as well. The gods were still smiling upon us.

Flight across the pond to Berlin was typical. Drink service, food, movies, games, some turbulence, more drinks, more food and more turbulence.  Upon arrival, interestingly customs was literally at the end of the gangway as was the baggage carousel. Luckily our checked bags go straight through to Zürich.  So we hope. After being on the plane for more than 8 hours, we decided to walk around the Berlin airport before going to our gate. Even peeked into a few shops, and just so we can say we were officially in Berlin, we exited the airport for a photo op. 

Our flight to Zürich was quick and uneventful, but we did get a snack in the form of a sandwich, and some swiss chocolate. After landing and getting our checked luggage, the goal was to find the car rental agency. It was a maze, but we found it. Our pickup went quickly, unlike for the people in front of us. Our Renault Clio was waiting for us, but it did take a bit of Tetris playing to fit all our baggage. Off to the a Mountain called Uetliberg. We approached it from one side, parked the car and went to the train stop to take us up. However, it was not clear, and the conductors were not the friendliest. We found a map but were not ready to hike the trails up in the heat (plus I was not feeling great). So we went back to the car for a different approach, the other side. No luck there either. We decided it’s for another day, maybe on our way back. Off to the AirBnB hosted by Jérôme, that we found, right after we rolled through the Swiss and French border.... I kid you not.. rolled and no border patrol. We asked ourselves, do we stop? DO we not ? Anikó said, just slow down, ok no one flagged us, keep going. We found parking on the street, and proceeded to lug all our baggage up the three European flights of stairs (any one who has been, knows what I’m talking about.) The apartment was spacious, with all amenities one can need to be comfortable - minus A/C. Once we freshened up and decided to explore the neighborhood as we saw some places to eat as we drove by. Just down the street, there is a great little place called A la Douane - yup, right by the border. Once rehydrated and fed, we strolled back to the flat and called it a night -  but boy was it hot and muggy... no A/C, only isolating fans to keep us “cool”. We had trouble sleeping and then the storm blew in... that helped. The next morning, our plans to get an early start didn’t happen, since we all slept in after being up for 33+ hours.  We ate breakfast, (that was already in the kitchen, provided by our host, baguette, jams, milk, coffee, juice) packed up and headed out to get some sightseeing done in downtown Basel. Slowed down again at the "border".... no one flagged us, so goodbye France. One thing you need to know about Basel is, that the signage on the streets are unilingually in German. Aniko's minimal understanding got us to the center of the town, however, not before we all took wild ride down a tramway street and pedestrian walkway, which had the locals staring, thinking crazy french tourists can't read (our plates were french). We finally parked the rental in a garage for safe keeping and headed out on foot towards the Basel Basilica. We even went up the tower, all the way to the top. Totally worth the 10 Franks it cost Aniko and I (Robi was free - yay for Europe recognizing that 12 years olds are still children !).  After taking dozens of pictures, and climbing more winding narrow stairs then one should in a day, it was time to have a snack... and of course that would be a salami pretzel-wich and gelato. Oh. So. Good. Snacked up and ready to walk some more, we took in the local sights, found a flee market,  bought some postcards and mailed them from the local post office - where the cashier's minimalistic English mirrored Aniko's German, nevertheless, gesturing is universal and the job got done. We walked some more, and after 2 hours, in the 30+ degree heat, we went on a hunt for iced anything. We were all feeling a little wilted, and wanted to get away from the main tourist section, which ended up at a place called Restaurant Hirscheneck. The cockroach engraved on the cover of the menu should have been a sign. Anikó read the menu (only in German) and enquired (in English) if they had any lemonade or ice tea for Robi....WELL....The waiter informed us that he ONLY spoke German and after waving at the menu and saying those are the options in front you - Walked. Away. Really?!? Ok then, Anikó said let’s go, we got up and with a booming Béla voice “schuss”,  a signature wave of his own, got up and left, leaving behind a confused waiter and his friends voicing their disapproval of the tourists. No matter, we found an even cuter café a block later, called Damatti caffè Bar and the waitress was very helpful. Robi accidentally said “köszönöm” and it turns out her aunt is Hungarian and her son is named János. Our order arrived in record time, so not only did she get our money, she also earned herself a generous tip. As we finished our refreshments, the dark clouds were rolling in, storm was brewing, and we hustled back to the car. We still had some time before we needed to return the car, and decided to eat locally before heading to the airport. Where to go for our meal? Google it and you will find. It led us to a very secluded.... off the beaten path, by the docks, behind the barges, near the scrap yard... and by the Dreiländereck. It’s where France, Switzerland and Germany meet.  Restaurant Rostiger Anker had great food and a the staff was very accommodating with the outside seating during the rain, and our lack of reservations.

Dinner eaten, our next leg of the journey was our late night (or really early) arrival to Budapest. It began with retuning the car to the airport... success! Check in...success! Security... success! Plane leaving on time... fail.  This meant we only landed at Ferihegy Airport at 1:15 and then waiting for a van-taxi to take us to the apartment, where once again we lugged up 89 steps to the 3rd floor, making all of us rethink, why did we need to pack so much. It was now 2:45, August 9th... Bed time!

And that is why it takes three days to hop, skip and jump to Hungary.