Okcoasterfest 2006 part 2, Budapest, Vidámpark

This is the second article in a series about my trip to Europe in 2006 for Oktoberfest.  For the previous installment, see here.

I often find myself too wired after my first day on a long trip, particularly to foreign parts, to get much sleep even if I need it.  This was true on the night we slept in Budapest.  Thus it was not as hard to wake up early the next morning as I had feared.  Without our luggage we had little choice but to wear what we already had.  This made none of us happy, but we had no choice.

Our plans for the day were to do whatever tourism we could in the early morning hours, to at least make up for some of the time we'd lost while getting to Budapest.  Then we'd head to the local amusement park, Vidámpark for as much time as we could spend before having to make our way back to the train station.  From there, we'd catch an evening train to our next city, Vienna.

Ordinarily I don't eat breakfast in the morning, but on European trips I always do.  In my experience you usually get a pretty good spread for the price of the room, and the Grand Hungaria was no exception.  Among the offerings at the buffet tables were some kind of fried sausages, a few types of egg, other hot and cold meats, cheeses, grilled vegetables, and some kind of wrap with a kind of light creamy curry flavor (these may have been "cauliflower in pipe" according to the confusing labels).  To accompany this I could have tea and orange juice.  I like that the variety is so much greater than offered at American "Continental" breakfasts.  Another benefit is that after such a large breakfast, lunch is often unnecessary (and in fact we would have none that day).

The lobby and breakfast room were very crowded when we first came down, but had nearly emptied out by the time we were ready to leave ourselves.  Perhaps the hotel's focus on tour groups made them less responsive to a small trio such as ours, for we had some trouble at the desk.  Tim had some trouble arguing whether his room had been prepaid or not.  We left most of the carry-on bags we had with us in a luggage room, and assumed that when the rest of our luggage arrived we'd find it there too when we returned in the afternoon.

Before we go out on our jaunt through Budapest, allow me a moment to describe my travel wear, which would lend itself greatly to the logistics of the trip for me.  Just before leaving I'd ordered a coat--from a company called Scott eVest--at the recommendation of my friend Greg (who would show up with a similar vest later on in the trip).  It had removable sleeves so it could be worn as a coat or a vest, particularly convenient for the uncertain fall weather we expected to encounter.  Even more conveniently, it had many interior and exterior pockets.  This meant I could safely carry all my personal effects without worrying about being pickpocketed.  I also could carry my camcorder safely and inconspicuously.  I never had to worry about leaving my camcorder in a coaster station; with it safely in a secure pocket, I could always ride with it.  The one drawback was that the mesh material that made the pockets was a bit too flimsy, and some of the pockets began to come apart over the course of the trip.  When it was warm enough, the detached sleeves could still serve a purpose as extra padding.  Apart from this one drawback it was the perfect travel outfit for me.

Our hotel was right next to a busy square.  We'd chosen it because it was near to the train station, which yielded the additional convenience of having a subway stop.  It wasn't the most attractive site--after all, it was where we'd seen all the fast food restaurants the night before.  Even so, I got my camcorder out and began doing the first filming of the trip.  (Janna was in charge of the still camera--credit for almost all of the pictures in this and subsequent reports belongs to her.)  Attractive or not, I was in an unfamiliar city that I might never get a chance to visit again.  My philosophy has always been to capture as many scenes that might be able to trigger my memories later.  Most of the footage I film thus would have little meaning to anybody else.

The subway was reached by going into the train station, down a stairway through a tunnel with little markets on either side, and into an open plaza beneath the level of the square.  We had to figure out how to purchase our tickets, eventually getting assistance at a window rather than brave the machines.  We were advised to get a 1 day travel card, as we'd be making several trips.

The escalators down were long, and faster than I am accustomed to.  The same would be true of many escalators in Europe.  It took me a day or two to get used to them.  The walls were lined with small advertisement posters, just two alternating for the entire length of the escalator.  The train we took had an old-fashioned look.  Over that day we'd take several different subway lines, all of which had different train styles, but I always liked that first line the best.

Our main plan for the day was to visit the city's amusement park, Vidámpark, but we had some hours to spend first as it would only open later in the morning.  This gave us a chance to spend some time making up for the tourism we'd missed from the day.  It was no substitute to the full day we'd lost due to our travel troubles, but at least we'd get to do one thing.  We decided our best bet was to go to the Castle District, just across the Danube River in the hilly Buda section of the city.  I'd visited there on a prior trip, and knew it to be a beautiful area with some very scenic views of the river and the Pest district.  To get there we took the subway to Moszkva Tér.  This let us out onto a big square.  All the sights there were very fresh and new to us.  Janna commented that there were "too many things to take pictures of". 



Our ultimate goal was to find our way to Fisherman's Bastion at the far end of the Castle District, which I'd enjoyed very much on my prior trip.  Though we were well armed with maps, we had real trouble getting our bearings, and walked around the entire square and then some before finally finding the right way.  This did give us a chance to see some things we'd otherwise have missed, such as an old woman at a corner selling what seemed to be meager pickings of vegetables and flowers.  I felt like I got a better flavor of the city than I would have just by seeing a single tourist attraction, and it was a beautiful day to walk around anyway.



We eventually did get into the castle district, a seemingly quiet semi-residential backwater compared to the square outside.  We walked entirely through to get to Fisherman's Bastion, which was almost as I'd remembered it except perhaps a bit more crowded.  I'm sure most of the people there were from tour groups.  Some of the balconies from which the best views could be had were only accessible through pay turnstiles.  I don't remember that from my prior trip (nor did I remember having to pay to get into the nearby church) but maybe being in a tour group at the time had gotten me into things as part of the trip fee.  We opted not to pay.  This meant lesser views, but the natural terrain overlooking the Danube was still good enough.  The architecture of Fisherman's Bastion is deliberately fanciful, with circular towers topped by conical caps.  But I find it's most interesting for its attention to detail, such as the different styles of column supporting different archways.



We could see the Parliament building across the river.  When we'd left there were stories in the news about rioting in Budapest, but fortunately we never saw any signs of it.  The most prominent other structure was the historic Chain Bridge.  We didn't see see the bridge that Stephen Colbert was gunning to have named after him!


Well to the right I could see another thing I remembered from my previous trip, the Liberation Monument.  This figure of a woman with a palm leaf atop a hill had been very clearly visible from the hotel I'd stayed at on that prior trip.  It's not really featured in the tourist literature, perhaps because of embarrassment due to its being from the Soviet era (most such statuary has been relegated to a small park since the collapse of the USSR) but because of its prominence from where I'd stayed, it had become somewhat iconic of the city to me.  For its dubious provenance, I found it quite striking, and was glad to get at least another glimpse of it.

All in all, due to the interesting architecture and fantastic view, I find the Fisherman's Bastion to be one tourist attraction definitely worth seeing, and was glad to have seen it twice.  We didn't have enough time to linger long, but we did see that nearby was the Marzipan Museum, featuring a giant wedding cake in its window.  It's the sort of thing that Janna would have liked to spent time in, but we had to settle for visiting the candy store next door.  Here we got a Coke, hoping to get a version made with real sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup.  A look at the label showed us that we had not achieved our goal; finding Coke made with sugar would become a minor quest of our trip.  As an aside, we found the caps on soda bottles throughout Europe awkward.  If the cap were broken off it would leave a tail of plastic on the ring around the neck of the bottle, getting in the way of drinking properly.  We must have been doing something wrong because I can't imagine the caps were designed this way, but we couldn't figure out what was wrong.  I also observed that Coke seemed to have the entire central Europe area locked up.  We rarely saw Pepsi products--though this didn't bother me much, as I prefer Coke anyway.

We began walking back toward Moszkva Tér down a street parallel to the one we'd come in by.  This took us to the back of the walled-in area, where we got a panoramic view across the hills of Buda.



We returned to the metro, which we would now take to Vidámpark.  As we waited for a train I noticed how helpful the signage was, indicating the direction of the trains on each track, as well as all the stops and stations where connections could be made.  Why American rail systems can't have such consistently helpful signage is beyond me.  There was also a wall mural with the date 1956 prominently displayed.

We took the train to Deák Ferenc Tér, transferring to Széchenyi fürdõ.  Along the way the views I got of the interiors of some of the subway stations.  They looked charming, decorated with tiles on the walls.  The station we wound up at was not so attractive, though, denying me the chance to get the charm on film.

We had no trouble finding Vidámpark once off the subway.  It is in a complex of attractions, including the zoo, a museum, the Heroes' Square, and a city park.  We didn't see most of these but I believe we passed by a historic public baths building along the way.  When we got to the park entrance the closed shutters made it look like the park was not yet open, but we were able to purchase tickets and get in anyway.  We thought at first we'd have to pay per ride, but found that they had a pay-one-price admission.  This meant we could take however many rides we wanted to.  Since it looked like there wouldn't be many other people there that day, this was good for us.



We were clearly there just after the park had opened, as we found out when we got to the coat check building.  (It was warm enough that Janna and Tim wanted to discard their jackets.  I kept mine, because of its aforementioned pockets).  A guy there had to call a lady to open it up for us and Tim wound up getting ticket #1.  The coat check service was free.  At an American park you'd expect to have to pay for self-service lockers, so this was a pleasant surprise.  We almost forgot to pick the coats back up when we left, but fortunately we remembered at the last moment.

We headed to the back of the park for the ride that had really brought us there, Hullámvasút.  The name may not convey anything to an English speaker, but it is a significant ride for any historically-minded enthusiast, for it is an old-fashioned Scenic Railway.  This classic variety of wooden coaster, once common in the early 20th century, is almost extinct today.  None exist any more in the US at all.  As of the time of this trip, six still existed in Europe and I would have ridden them all by the end.  One of those, in Margate, England, has since burnt down this past spring and will never operate again.  The only other I know of in the world is in Australia.  To ride a Scenic these days is a rare privilege indeed, a chance to step back into an almost vanished older age.

What makes a roller coaster a Scenic Railway?  First, it must be made of wood, as all roller coasters before about the 1950's were.  However, going even further back into the past history of roller coasters, a scenic railway is different from modern rides, even wooden ones, in many ways.  Instead of using a chain to haul the train up the lift, a Scenic has a cable.  Moreover the trains are not locked to the tracks in the same way that modern coasters are.  To take the course too fast without this safety feature would be risky, so such rides require a brakeman, who sits in a middle seat for every ride operating a hand brake.  (On one Scenic in Scandinavia I saw that there was a woman operator, so the word is no longer quite apropos, but that's what the role is traditionally called.)  It's not necessarily an enviable job, though.  Our brakeman looked quite bored.  On a later ride he talked with a coworker for the entire ride.



In the past, Scenics would have extensive theming placed around the track, the "scenery" of the ride's generic name, but this is even rarer these days than the coaster variety itself.  Hullámvasút has none.  In fact from the lift the only real view is of the busy highway next door.  The layout, typical of Scenics, is very simple, an alternation between layered flat turns and hills.  For such an old ride it is very well kept up; all the wood looked very new.



Because the ride is less aggressive than modern coasters, the only restraint is a chain, which riders attach themselves.  The train rocked a bit as we boarded.  As for the ride itself, it wasn't very thrilling, probably the least so of any of the Scenics I've ridden.  The brakeman may have been pretty conservative on his brake, but it was slow around all the turns and the drops weren't all that interesting.  At one point there was a straight, flat stretch of track that ran right by the station.  Still, as a coaster enthusiast it is a significant "credit" to get under my belt.  I made sure to film one ride--I now have a collection of footage of all six of the Scenics I've ridden, including the destroyed Dreamland one.  During our stay we took three rides.



However, there were other things for us to ride as well.  We began with a dark ride called Vihar Vasút.  As we entered I noticed a detail that was insignificant yet indicative that we were not in a US park--the turnstile to get in was bulky, like nothing I'd ever seen before.  The ride itself was a pretty cheesy example of its genre.  The cars moved quickly and even bumped each other at the end, but there wasn't much for them to linger to see.  The most memorable scene was a cityscape with a big Spider-Man figure suspended above it.  We all got a big kick out of seeing this.

Under the Hullámvasút was a scenic boat ride called Mesecsónak.  The name, quite apart from being foreign, was written on the ride sign in a hard to read script, so I had to refer to the map to be sure of it.  There was no line, so we got on, expecting a quick, charming boat ride.  However, on this attraction there were no quick rides, nor was it very charming.  The boat (lifted completely out of the water for boarding by an interesting mechanism) moved very slowly through a concrete tunnel past a variety of widely spaced scenes.  We were so slow that though we could hear the voices of the party ahead of us, we could never see them around the turns.  Some scenes were recognizable, such as a Disneyfied Seven Dwarfs and the Smurfs.  Others must have been Hungarian folk tales that we couldn't recognize, such as "Dr. Bubó".  At the end was a five headed dragon.  Shop lights provided the lighting.

Nearby was a fun house, called Elvarászolt Kástely.  Fun houses in the US are almost all tamed for insurance reasons, so a European fun house is always a special treat.  This one had a great start, something I'd never seen before.  In the very first room were four big chairs, which would buck in different ways to throw out anybody who sat in them.  It was almost as if they had minds of their own and had us all laughing along with a couple of other strangers who tried them too.  There was also a spinning stool that was almost impossible to stay on, though we tried our best.  After this there were the usual fun house effects such as trick dropaway stairs, moving stairs, rollers on the floor, and a room with a dropping ceiling.  At the end was the rolling barrel trick.  We had to walk through, but the operator stopped it for people who didn't want to try to negotiate it.

We returned to coaster riding with a steel coaster of much more recent vintage than Hullámvasút, dating back only to the 1970's.  It was named Looping Star (also contributing its name to the nearby "Looping Büfé" food stand).  It is a stock model coaster with a single vertical loop and a lot of twisting low-level track.  This particular ride came from the very same Dreamland that housed the burnt-down Scenic Railway.  Oddly enough, the Looping Star I rode while in Dreamland is not the one that came to Vidámpark.  It is sometimes very hard to keep track of coasters as they move from park to park--at the time I thought it was the first roller coaster in Europe I'd ridden on two separate occasions.  It was upon doing research later that I found I was mistaken.  As we climbed the lift Janna pointed out some shipping containers beneath us; we wondered if this was what this semi-portable ride had been transported in.  The ride's thrills are moderate, but potent for its small size. The twisting first drop had some lateral force, the loop was strong with positive G's, and the remainder of the layout was compact--at several points we passed very close to other sections of the track.



Vidámpark had one more coaster to ride, but to us it was only a "credit", that is, a coaster that we only rode to add to our lifetime ride counts.  It was a standard "Wacky Worm" kiddie ride called Kukomotív, a name I found strangely charming.  Oddly enough there was a canvas "house" over one turn loudly advertising the ride as being built by Daniel Pinfari.  The sign also had Disney characters on it, likely not authorized! With only one drop of any size (and even this modest), and otherwise just slow turns and tiny undulations, we were happy to just ride once around, though they sent us for two circuits.

We took another break from the coasters to get some other rides.  One we passed by was disassembled but looked something like a ride style that would be called Caterpillar in the US.  We went on to their version of a Whip ride, called Kanyargó.  This variety of ride is rare in the US, but can be found at older parks.  The ride tubs traverse an oval path, turning rapidly around the ends to provide the "whipping" effect.  It was built subtly differently than those I've seen in the States, almost as if it was home-made.  The tubs were decorated with airbrushed-looking paintings.  Unaccountably some of the designs depicted scenes from London.  Others had what looked like ruins of some sort, but I couldn't identify what they were meant to depict.  I don't remember the ride experience very well; as far as I know it was equivalent to any other Whip I've ridden.



At the end of one of the midways was another dark ride, Szellemvasút, which we were pretty sure meant "Ghost Ride".  It was longer and more elaborate than the other dark ride, spread through two levels and alternating between indoors and out.  Oddly though, there were several rather blank parts.  We saw another Spider Man figure, but the rest wasn't very noteworthy.  More memorable was hearing Rocky Mountain High playing as we left the area, about the last thing I'd have expected to hear in Budapest!

On the way back toward the front gate we encountered a powered coaster called Família Expressz.  This ride looks like a kind of small roller coaster but is electrically powered throughout.  Like most purists, I don't count such rides as true roller coasters, but I still enjoy riding them.  They're impossible to find in the US (though there is one I know of in Canada) but rather common throughout Europe.  The one at Vidámpark looked like a smaller version of the others I'd encountered.  Like the Whip, it appeared as though it might be homemade or an off-brand ride.  Oddly enough it had to be plugged in while parked; the ones I'd seen before had a third rail to maintain continuous power.  The layout was very simple, just a couple of helixes.  We were sent around for a few circuits.  There wasn't much to it.

There was one last dark ride for us to sample, the cave train called Barlangvasút.  The sign outside mentioned a name, János Vitéz, which meant nothing to us at the time.  (I've since looked it up and it seems to be a reference to a Hungarian folk tale.)  We boarded a train shaped like a dragon with red lights forming a mane down its neck and were taken through the flat course past a number of dioramas.  While we rode there was a narration backed by classical music.  Of course we could not understand a thing.  I remember being charmed by this ride, but can't recall any details apart from an ogre with a mustache made of yarn. 

Finding ourselves back at the front of the park we headed toward the carousel, located inside an octagonal building.  When we went inside we found a beautiful machine with a wooden floor, gorgeously decorated horses, and a real band organ.  I like carousels well enough but am no enthusiast, so often the details of such rides are lost on me.  But this one was utterly stunning, easily the most gorgeous carousel I have seen.  Additionally it had some great unique features, such as a little boat that mechanically rocked as the turntable went around, and some horses set on springs that could be rocked back and forth by shifting one's weight.  Like any truly classic carousel they rang a bell before the beginning of the ride.  No big thrills here, but what a magnificent machine it was, a piece of underappreciated art.  We had come for the roller coasters, but in my mind the carousel was easily the biggest treasure at Vidámpark.









Skipping a few rides (a generic-looking flume ride, and a vertical shot ride called Torony), we went to investigate bumper car ride, located entirely indoors.  Oddly it seemed they ran it at intervals, so we couldn't get right on.  We passed the time by investigating the Japanese themed mirror maze.  Fortunately we didn't have to walk through the area where somebody seemed to have thrown up in order to get back out.

Once done with this we were able to return to the bumper cars and get on.  We were given tokens at a booth outside.  I think they must have been meant as counters to tally the people inside; as I recall we just gave them back at the ride entrance.  When we got inside, the meaning of the ride's cognate name Lézer Dodzem ("laser dodgem") became clear.  Not just a bumper car ride, it was a kind of interactive game.  The cars were divided into two teams, red and green.  Riders were supposed to score points by either driving under green lights (not real lasers, just spotlights) projected at random from the ceiling, or bump one's opponents under red lights.  They must have had some sort of English instructions, because we had no trouble knowing what to do.  As we boarded they were playing techno music, which switched to the Star Wars theme when the ride started.  It was quite fun, though I didn't score all that well.  Janna got the high score at 210.  I've never seen this ride concept anywhere else, but I think it would be a great import to the USA.

We were running out of time and had done pretty much everything we wanted to, so we began to look for repeat rides to take.  We would definitely have repeated the "Spider Man" dark ride (which I would like to have filmed), but for some reason it was closed.  Instead we returned to the two big coasters.  On Hullámvasút I took some on-ride photos (as opposed to the video I'd taken on the prior ride) for further documentation.  I noticed that one kid boarded the train while it was still moving so he could be sure to get the front seat, a phenomenon I'd only previously seen at Tivoli in Copenhagen.




We also rerode Looping Star before taking one final new ride, on the Panorama Wheel.  This was a standard Ferris wheel, though the seats were more like plastic chairs you might find in an auditorium.

In order to create detailed trip reports such as this (as well as for my own personal journal) I've taken to the habit of recording notes about my journeys in a PDA (a Treo, if you must know).  I wouldn't mention this except that it began to fail me right around this time.  Because of my missing luggage, all the chargers for my various pieces of electronic equipment (camera, camcorder, and PDA) were unavailable.  I had spare charge for the camera and camcorder, but the PDA began complaining about low batteries at this time.  For the rest of the day I'd have to try to husband my batteries as best I could, and eventually take to old-fashioned paper notes!

All in all, I enjoyed our time at Vidámpark.  Perhaps due to its being in Eastern Europe, it has a strange feeling all its own, unlike any other amusement park I've ever been to.  It is not as elaborate as modern theme parks, but nor is it just a carnival.  The grounds were not as elaborately groomed as many other European parks, but were far from unkempt.  The rides often have a slightly strange feel, similar to Western rides I've been on yet not identical.  This may well have something to do with the feeling I got from the park as a whole.  Was it a Soviet-era attempt at imitating a Western amusement park?  The resulting feel is familiar, yet warped.  That's as close as I can come to expressing my impressions in words, yet it is inadequate to fully capture this park.  One thing I will give it, the "toiletten" were as clean as advertised!

The few hours we spent at Vidámpark were easily enough to do everything we wanted to do.  I wouldn't have minded doing a few things (the coasters, the carousel, the dark ride we were denied a second ride on) another time, but I certainly didn't feel like the trip was unfulfilling.  For me the top attractions were the Scenic Railway for simple historic reasons and the Lézer Dodzem because it was such a cool, unique idea for a ride.  But of all things at the park, by far the best was the carousel, an unexpected treasure.  I can't say if I'll ever ride it again, but if I ever visit Budapest again (which I would like to do) I'd seriously consider it.

Our next task was to get back to the train station, from which we'd have to depart for Vienna, our next city.  We took the metro back, giving me the opportunity to get some limited footage of the "cool-looking" subway stations I'd seen earlier.  By this time I recognized some of the station names on the return journey.  For some reason I found names like "Oktagon" intriguing.  We took a brief foray into the city at a metro transfer station, but generally wasted no time getting back to the railway station.

We had some time before our departing train and hadn't eaten yet, so our first order of business was to get a meal.  We'd earlier spotted a restaurant in the railway station (called Baross) and this is where we wound up going.  It had a feeling of aging elegance, as though it was once a place for richer railroad passengers to eat.  There was a piano lounge, which at the time we ate seemed to have most of the action.  In fact, the waiter had little else to do but dwell over us while we decided what to order (and later when we had to try to decipher the faded receipt and split the bill, which was more distracting).

As a salad I ordered paradiesomsalata.  Had I known my archaic German I might have recognized Paradiesapfel as an old word for tomato, but it wasn't necessary as there were English translations for the various dishes on the menu.  The tomato salad consisted of tomato and feta slices.  I thought about getting cabbage rolls but thought better of it when I considered the possible consequences on the train later.

For my entrée I felt almost obligated to order a goulash.  The particular type I got was called vösböros marhapörkölt tarhonyáral.  It came with something described as "homemade flour pellets".  These wound up being little bready spheres, something of a substitute for rice or another starch, I suppose.  These were novel, but I didn't care for them much, and there were far more than I could have eaten in one sitting.  I wouldn't feel the need to try them again.

Refreshed, we went back to the hotel to pick our luggage back up--or so we thought.  When we went up to the desk, we found that our bags had arrived at the airport, but the hotel refused to receive them.  I'd thought we'd given specific instructions about what to do with the bags, but apparently not.  The red-haired clerk at the desk was not very helpful, but did let us know that the trip out to the airport and back shouldn't take us more than an hour.  With two hours left before our train was to depart it was theoretically enough time to go and pick the bags up ourselves, though it made me nervous.  But we felt we had no other choice.  As we'd be moving from city to city and even country to country over the next week, if we didn't get our bags back they might never catch up to us.  A more helpful hotel employee flagged us a cab and gave instructions to the driver for us.

Fortunately we were not delayed by traffic but even so were getting nervous about the time by the time we made it there.  Limited as they were, I had never expected to see the sights along the way to the airport again, much less twice more.  When we arrived we made sure the cabbie stayed for us and went to try to collect our bags.  We were first directed to the lost items desk, but there was nobody there.  A sign instructed us to use a phone at the desk to try to contact somebody.  This was not helpful, as whoever it was on the other end told us we had to use a different phone.  We went back to the information desk and pled our case as best we could, finally getting helpful results.  This time we were sent to a set of lockers.  To our immense relief, we could see our bags on the shelves behind the attendant there.

Nerve-wracking as the experience was, in the end we arrived back at the train station with plenty of time to spare.  Our train's track wasn't even posted.  I watched for this while Janna and Tim shopped for supplies to nourish us during the ride.  I liked the old-fashioned departure board.  It had mechanical placards with each station stop printed on them.  As the items on the board changed, these would flip quickly and noisily to represent the update.

Tim had arranged for reserved seats on most of our train trips.  In this case, we had spots in a bunk compartment, though we were not really taking an overnight train.  We found a woman already getting set up for the fourth bunk there.  She complained greatly about sharing the room with us.  She was going all the way to Munich, wanted to sleep right away, and thought we'd disturb her.  Though we had a perfect right to be there, we decided not to argue but try to find seats elsewhere.  However this was a bit more trouble than we expected at first, since we didn't know which coaches had unreserved seating that we could freely get.  While we were trying to find our way around, some other Americans came up to chat, apparently thinking that any other Americans would want to talk with them.  We were in no mood however, too worried about our dwindling time to find our way on the train.  The conductor we asked also was unhelpful, apparently directing us to a completely different train!  Finally we found an unreserved coach, grabbed three unoccupied seats together (the fourth in the group was taken by a guy for about half the trip).  For all our worries the train left about half an hour late anyway.

Our luggage may have caused us trouble, but from that point forward the bags we'd brought proved their utility.  Following the lead of some co-travelers from prior trips all three of us were using a kind of backpack with a removable daypack.  Along with my pocket vest, these made my life a whole lot easier.  We could wheel them around wherever we had to walk, store them compactly in lockers, and stow them on trains without a great deal of inconvenience.  The small bags did mean packing very efficiently, but we were had done a pretty careful job of that.  On a journey such as ours it was important to go light, bringing only what we knew we'd need.

Because of the conductor's confusing directions, we were at first just a bit worried that we might have yet gotten on the wrong train.  Tim, always prepared, had printed a lit of stops.  After our train's stops matched the printed list, we became reassured we were all riht.  Once we got into Germany we'd find Intercity trains had brochures at each seat with itineraries, very convenient, but Tim's stop lists provided very helpful backups.  Our conductor talked perfect English to us when he took our tickets.  As we crossed into Austria our tickets were checked a second time, and to my surprise our passports stamped.

After the couple of hours ride, we disembarked at Vienna's Westbahnhof on Mariahilfer Straße, a street I'd stayed on during a prior trip.  We were further from the central city Ring than I'd ever been, so I saw no familiar sights though.  As one last travel headache for the day, we had some trouble finding the Golden Tulip hotel.  It was on Wallgasse, which according to the map from the web site should have been directly off of Mariahilfer Straße.  It turned out the map was insufficiently detailed to show us another cross street, but we did eventually find the hotel.

To cut down on costs, the three of us shared a room.  After our long day and still recovering from our prior travels, we didn't really stay up long that night, so I didn't get much of a sense of the room, except to see that it was a nice little suite with a kind of 70's vibe.  There were little bottles of wine set out, but we presumed we'd be charged if we used them, so we just left them as is.

I did take a short shower just to try to feel clean again--after all, I was still wearing the same clothes I'd been in for almost three days.  I also made absolutely sure to find all the available outlets and charge all my electronic equipment to avoid the same kind of problems I'd had with my PDA that day!  After a fun but exhausting day, it was good to be at the hotel, finally reunited with our luggage.  After all our early troubles, it felt like our trip was finally on track.