The checkout time for my Airbnb was 12 noon. I didn’t feel like lugging my bag around Budapest so figured I’d just head to the airport nice and early, drop my bag and either walk around the terminal or duck into the Airline Lounge.
I took the 12:33 pm bus for 900 ft. The sign said you had to buy your ticket in advance so I did; when I got to the bus stop, there was a bus official selling tickets.
The sign said to only board by the bus’s front door. So I did. But more than half the riders boarded by the middle door so there were no seats and I stood for the forty minute ride.
When I arrived at BUD, the check in desk told me I could only check in two hours before the flight, not earlier. The terminal is tiny and at first I thought there were no food options. Turns out there’s a tiny coffee shop and a newsstand tucked away in one corner.
Like an airport version of the mid-1980s version of WHEEL OF FORTUNE, I had 1515 Hungarian forint in my wallet. I was debating between a 690 ft Diet Coke and a 690 chocolate croissant or a 1390 ft sandwich. There was a salad I was tempted by, but it was 1550 ft and thus out of my price range.
I ultimately found a salad marked 1490 (I don’t know… maybe it was a day old?) and went with that.
Madness.
I still have 2 hours before I can check in my bag. If I was flying with just carry on bags, I could’ve gotten my boarding pass and headed to security. But I have liquids in my bag — two mini bottles of palinka.
Sigh.
Even so, if I want to do my LHR half marathon walkathon at midnight GMT, I’d rather not have this heavy duffle bag slung over my shoulder.
I don’t know what world problems these are. But they are definitely my world problems.
Oh, and North Korea, Iran, wildfires in CA, hurricanes in Texas, Florida, Puero Rico, the Caribbean, earthquakes in Mexico, mass shootings, data breaches, internet hacks of our democracy, pervasive sexual harassment and undermining of social justice, the attacks on our very freedoms of the press, expression, and more… so much more.
Man. I had hoped going abroad for a time would enable the world time to get its proverbial shit together.
Instead, it’s just gotten shittier.
Sigh. Sigh some more. Sigh, sigh, sigh.
One hour fifty two minutes until check in…