Day 20? We're not sure: Hungry In Hungary

 

Welcome Gentle Readers,

We must, unfortunately interrupt your daily scheduled program to ask for a moment of silence for our dearly beloved Helen. She was with us in our hearts today, but regretfully not physically.

Today started with everyone excitedly hopping out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, after a reasonable Friday night in. We had absolutely zero issues getting out of the hotel in time, and last night's Danube cruise had nothing to do with it. We decline to comment any more on this matter. 

 

We journeyed from the hotel to a small local market, armed with tote bags and notes from our Hungarian lesson yesterday, (un)prepared to buy everything on our list using Hungarian alone. Split into five groups, we trawled the two rows of market stalls, gathering our ingredients and bartering with the local vendors who were given strict instructions to only speak to us in Hungarian, courtesy of our dear friend Emese. Only resorting to the grocery store around the corner when no vendors had what we needed. We also had the option to pick up some personal items, with folks grabbing fresh langos, cakes, and various pickles. We also met with a fellow Ole at the market, Cece Huttemier, and her friend Cecelia. (Add details about how cool and awesome she was)

Now that we had finally crossed everything off our list, we made our trek to the language school, lugging our spoils (except Noah, who so rudely made Gavin carry his bag as well). Walking into the school we were met with the smell of paprika and onions from our classmates who had arrived earlier and already started prepping most of the food: paprikas krumpli and korozott (paprika cheese spread). Only the desserts were left for us to make: makos guba (poppyseed bread pudding) and pancakes (not American ones), some might say the easiest to make. It was certainly a little too easy for some as it allowed other activities, which we do not condone, to occur.

We were just getting into flow state making the pancakes, Erika and Zookeeper (Reka) manning the pans and Atlas putting in the fillings, when we got news of the rave that happened last year. Not to be upstaged we obviously had to throw our own, with a slight twist. Whereas last year hosted theirs in the "sensory deprivation" room we felt the bathroom was a more appropriate place, fondly leading to the name "Sh*t Show". 

The Sh*t Show came to an end when the dinner bells started ringing, time to feast. All of a sudden there was a lull across the room as everyone dug into the food, tasting their sweat and tears with every bite they took. After eating our fill we said our goodbyes and headed back to the hotel where most fell into a deep food coma. However, a select few were able to fight the temptation, instead heading off to the Ludwig Museum to gaze ponderously at the art. 

The others stirred from their naps just in time for office hours, tying up the loose ends on the homework. Unfortunately the plans to visit the Jazz Club fell through for all but one, our dear Uncle Jer Jer managed to snag a seat before the place became so full it was practically bursting at the seams. Dismayed a few tried to look for other jazz clubs, some took it as sign to go to bed early, others decided to head out (no further details), and the final three snuggled up tight watching a psychological thriller. Though we all took different routes, by the end of the night everyone was tucked tight in their beds with a few honk shoos and a few more mimimimis. 

Puszi Puszi,

Atlas, Erika, (not dead) Helen