Budapest - day 1

I have arrived at my first destination;  Budapest.

I arrived at 20:45 on an Easyjet flight from Luton, after spending two hours sat next to a snoring lithuanian. When I got off the plane I was hit by a wall of heat. Dressed for the weather I was not. In my hoody and jeans I raced through security and sat down next to the baggage reclaim. The whole plane journey I had been worrying about two things: whether the cash machine was going to give me the 10000 hungarian forint I needed to pay for the hostel (£30) and whether my bag was going to turn up. Dad had wrapped it in a big carrier bag to hold everything in, and tied a rope round it which had the destination sticker stuck to it. I had images of the rope sliding off and my luggage being sent to the wrong place.

The conveyor belt started going round and people began collecting their bags and disappearing. After about 5 minutes there were just a few people left waiting, with an empty conveyor belt going round and round. Then it stopped. I rationalised that more luggage had to be coming as so many people were still waiting. The relief I felt when the conveyor belt restarted and I caught sight of my green plastic parcel shooting out the hole was incomparable to anything I have ever felt.
Rucksack in hand (on my back) I headed out into the arrivals lounge in search of a cash point.

After walking past it several times I located the cashpoint which was being used by an english man and his hungarian wife and their 500 kids who had been on my flight. After he unsuccessful tried several times to get money I was feeling rather pessimistic about my chances but I got my money no trouble. The man behind the tourist info desk kindly pointed me in the direction of the required bus and off I went.

The bus was already there and I hopped on behind a non-hungarian woman who was arguing with the bus driver, who couldn't understand or speak the english the woman was talking. By the time he got to me he was in a grumpy old mood and clearly was running out of patience with English speaking tourists. Terrified of winding him up further I went for the simple 'bus and metro' which he seemed to understand.  I got on and we wizzed off, on the way passing a Tesco, a BK and an Aldi.

Finding the hostel after getting off the Metro was easy enough but what I saw when I arrived did not fill me with joy. The hostel was housed in a dodgy looking block of flats. I climbed the stairs, totally unimpressed with what I could see, fearing I was going to get mugged at any moment. The entrance/reception didn't improve things. It was tiny and had  a bath as a chair. Literally. The side had just been cut away and a blanket laid on top. The room I was (am) in is lovely though. Its african themed and has like and upstairs platform as well as the normal bottom section.  As I write this,  there is only one other person here,  lying on a bed by the window, snoring away.
I'm starting to regret not bringing an electric fan. Its so warm.

One thing I have noticed is that water bottles here look like vodka bottles. Either that or everyone's getting wasted.

Right I'm going in search of a bathroom.  If you're lucky, I'll write again tomorrow. Szia