I’m old. I’m fat. My bones ache. My soul is tired. It was a rough, sleepless night.
Restless leg syndrome is a real thing. While I don’t think that’s necessarily exactly what happened last night (and what continues to be an issue as I type this), it is a descriptive explanation of what’s what. My legs are stiff and sore yet cannot bear being still.
This morning I opted to indulge in one final bit of Hungarian gluttony. I returned to the Great Market Hall for a last “Communist pizza.”
I don’t think I ever included photos of this place, the oldest and largest indoor market in Hungary. So here’s a few now:
While walking the stalls of wares and wonders, I stopped and picked up two mini-bar sized bottles of palinka. I couldn’t face doing a shot last night and I thought this way I could try two different varieties with someone else for roughly the same price as a single shot at a pub. I bought the 40% alcohol regular palinka and then a 100 proof cherry infused bottle, both of them on the recommendation of the palinka-ista (that’s not a thing but it should be if we accept barista is a thing).
On my way back to my Airbnb apartment, I stopped at a currency exchange place to trade out my excess and excessive forint. I was so hell bent on finding a zero commission place I screwed up the math yet again and got screwed financially. I would’ve been better off at another place even with a commission… to the tune of $20. This after I realized yesterday whilst passing a shoe tent at the marathon that I overpaid for my Hulk green Parisian pair by a whopping 40%.
So to sum up: I’m old. I’m fat, and even fatter after that decadent langos. My bones ache and my soul is flat out exhausted. I’m a mathematical idiot, the antithesis of a savant, and I’m feeling just plain dumb as rocks.
I am a personification of Winnie the Pooh… and Eeyore too.
It’s time for the voyage home. Allowing for customs, immigration, security and a long London layover, it should be a 26+ hour trip.
Swell. That ought to help my restless legs and general mood.
On the plus side, there are at least two separate opportunities for terminal “walk-a-thon” events. So there’s that.
Walk, Kevin. Walk.