Campers fill the island all week here, the sight of Europe’s largest music and cultural festival (Sziget means “island” in Hungarian, hence the name of the festival).

I can say that this is one of the best experiences I have had in Hungary. The 266 acre island pulsates with dozens of music stages and tents. I heard people compare the festival to Burning Man or the original Woodstock. (How some of them know, I am not sure, as much of the crowd is college-aged.)

The organization is incredibly well-run for an event of its size. I joked with the Sziget organizers that they should be running the country, since they fill a void of vision and leadership offered by Hungary’s Parliament. This year’s festival drew the largest crowd ever, an estimated 400,000 people participated, and no doubt many are already making their plans for next year. The festival’s website is in English here: http://www.sziget.hu/fesztival/?language=en

Train Tip: If arriving by train from abroad, a popular method, you will need to next get on the red metro to Batthyany ter. Here, you need to transfer onto a commuter train, a green train called HEV, five stops along the Danube river to Flitatorigat station. Note that the Eurail Pass does not cover you on the HEV train. Each one way ticket on the HEV train costs 300 Hungarian forints (about 1 Euro/ $1.50)

My train is leaving early in the morning, through Sweden, southward. Outside the train window, early morning fog is lifting from the countryside.

Train Tip: The train between Copenhagen and Hamburg crosses the sea by ferry at one point. You’ll spend the 45 minute trip on the ferry’s deck, outside of the train. But be sure to get back on the train as the ferry is approaching the port. The train is one of the first vehicles to leave from the ferry, and finding your way back down to the train from the upper decks may take several minutes. I saw several passengers running to jump on the train as it was preparing to drive off the ferry.

“Yesterday, you were on the train, standing up, taking pictures, having fun.” Where her tone was between approving and disapproving, I couldn’t quite decipher. It struck me as an odd statement, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.


“Yeah, but how did you..?” “A townsperson stopped by and she told me about the American on the train.”

I had gotten so lost in Frontierland, that I forgot that this is still post-Communist Czech. Just because the Iron Curtain came down twenty years, the behaviors, the suspicions, haven’t entirely changed. They were too pervasive to change just because a wall came down: Everyone is expected to walk in lock-step, there are no swings of emotion from joy to outrage, grey is the color of the sunrise and sunset. Anything outside these norms is “watched,” or “reported on” by locals. And so had happened to me.

I had enjoyed myself trying to take pictures of cows in fields earlier in the day, opening windows and asking my fellow riders for advice about which fields around the bend may produce four-legged creatures. They seemed to enjoy the opportunity for conversation and interaction as well, rather than their normal ride, staring motionlessly, silently, outside the grey dirtied windows. It’s a ride they have been taking for decades, and many, especially the young, seem ready for a new route.

Leaving the cities (or the CITY, in the case of Czech), train culture changes dramatically. It feels a bit like journeying into Frontierland.

Train stations in the Czech Republic can be tiny home-like outposts. The attendants appear from the outposts to wave a hand-placard, signaling the train can depart.

The trains are often one car, perhaps two, that remind me of coal trains. They brush along trees as they snake through forests. And perhaps the most surprising, some teenagers tell me, is that these local trains serve as their transport for school. No school buses; they have school trains, taking the village children to the larger towns for class. Watch the trains fill-up in the morning and afternoon with children carrying backpacks.

At any station in Frontierland, you walk across tracks, looking for the white placard telling you the destination of your chug-chug train. (Confirm your destination; the placards can be placed haphazardly.) I see men in knee high boots with bait and poles and tackle take the train one stop to their favorite fishing hole. I see sheep herders pacing through fields with their loyal friends. I see children disappear down mud paths, and overall-ed men emerge from factories. I see women tending garden, carefully nurturing each plant as daylight allows. I see deer dart closer to the train in circumspect, then dart away. It does feel like Frontier land, and it’s worth the ride.

In Prague, I visited the Plavecky complex, on the outskirts of the city, and reachable by tram. One common feature of these former Communist complexes is the water slide. And another common feature: these water slides scrape people’s backs, as the connecting parts of the slides are not entirely smooth. It’s explained to me that in years past, it was meant to slide down on a mat. But the mats were abandoned (damaged or stolen more likely), a long time ago. So while I would usually enjoy an afternoon on the water slides, the skin on my back asks me to enjoy it only once.

He gladly shares. It’s his Austrian brass band, and they had performed last week in Budapest.

Train Tip: If traveling in Central Europe, check your itinerary to see if you’ll be crossing into Slovakia. Slovakia is the missing link in terms of the Eurail Pass.
Czech to the North, Austria to the West and Hungary to the South are all covered by the Global Pass, but Slovakia is not. The fastest way to travel between Budapest and Prague is through Slovakia. You can easily buy a supplemental ticket that covers you in Slovakia, but I recommend buying it at any train ticket window, rather than on-board the train, where the price will increase.
There’s a train each morning at 5:28 from Budapest Keleti to Prague, en route to Berlin, that crosses through Slovakia. I was worried that 5 AM may be too early to buy the supplemental Slovakian ticket at Keleti station, but sure enough, ticket counters were open. The supplemental Slovakian ticket cost me 7750 Hungarian Forints, or about $35, and this is the ticket that I presented to the Slovakian train attendant on-board.

The train meanders up close to farmlands and cows, proving a great trip for at least two senses (sight and smell), and sometimes for a third (hearing), as an occasional ‘MOO’ can be heard.

Both the lakefront and Hauptbahnhof are the nerve center of Zurich, revealing two things: the people of Zurich appreciate nature, and appreciate their rail system.

In the main train station, she was armed with a water bottle. And he clinked his gun. These two sights marked my arrival to and departure from Zurich.

People fill their water bottles in ornate public drinking fountains, and young soldiers board trains with firearms strapped to their backs.

I’ve developed a habit of drinking only bottled water while traveling – part hypochondria, part craziness. But I swear that this habit has kept me from getting ill – as I don’t ask my body to re-adjust to different water quality in each place I visit. Or I should be collecting dividends from the bottled-water industry.

The gun-slinging soldiers cause some winces. The 19th century law that allows (encourages?) soldiers to bandy about their weapons is now up for review in Switzerland.

Train Tip: Consider NOT buying a bed reservation in advance. In the summer season, on weekends, and holidays, it’s a MUST if you want to be sure to get a bed. But one of the joys of traveling off-season, during the week, is that you can hop on and off trains, including night trains, more freely. During these non-peak times, I have found it’s more comfortable to walk on and buy the bed reservation on the train, because the conductor will often put you into an un-occupied sleeping cabin, whereas the computers at the train station will often automatically place you into free beds without consideration of how many people may already be in the sleeping cabin.

Built in 1740, the castle was originally the home of a Hungarian Count, but was given to the Habsburgs as a gift after the creation of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

Walk outside, and while the main part of the castle has been maintained since being re-opened after the fall of Communism, you’ll see how the wings have fallen into disrepair, which is perhaps a metaphor for Hungary. The 28 hectare park outside makes for a relaxing afternoon, and here you can see how Hungarians leisurely spend their weekends. Gödöllő is not the most stately palace I’ve seen, but makes for a nice day trip.

A simple, but cute and friendly restaurant I found in the center of the town is Galeria Etterem es Panzio, on Szabadsag ter 8. Here you can try many different Hungarian specialties, but the big draw is that their menu is fully available in English, as well my new favorite thing to find in Europe: a picture menu.