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by James
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Travel · #1701267
While backpacking, four wayward travellers pay a stranger to drive them to Budapest
'Driving to Budapest without a maaaaap'

One night over dinner in Poland we came up with the ridiculous idea of getting a taxi from where we were sitting in Krakow to Budapest…in Hungary. Strange what cabbage can make you do. There was no rational reason why we couldn’t get a plane ride, or the train, we just wanted to get a taxi. A few blocks from the restaurant was a taxi rank and Linx, Em and I split up and started poking our heads into each of the cabs to see who would take us on our journey. It didn’t take long for us to realise that the entire taxi rank was laughing at us. When drivers realised we meant Budapest in Hungary they looked at us like we were retarded. We left them reading their newspapers while waiting for a fare and headed back to the hostel to see Lee, dropping by the Internet Café on the way. We were now set on getting to Budapest by car so we decided to investigate options. Short of renting a car there didn’t seem to be much on offer. The manager we’d gotten used to behind the cash register was there surfing the Net so we ran the idea past him. We were in luck; he had access to a car and needed cash. We weren’t offering much, around two hundred dollars, but to him it seemed like a small fortune.

Excited we headed back to the Sheep Shack to break our hair brained scheme to Lee. She was less than impressed to say the least. She thought it was stupid, dangerous and as far as she was concerned, not happening. In hindsight she was right, but my story is set in the then, not the now. We tried to sell her the pros. Did she really want to be stuck on a train? Our last ride had seen us stuck in a smoky carriage with an unconscious man. Flights were too expensive, this was the only option unless we were going to live in Poland of course, and I couldn’t see myself selling carved wood blocks at the Christmas market any time soon. Surprisingly she began to come around. She was happy to do it so long as it was the Internet Manager, not a stranger. We didn’t bother to remind her that the Internet Manager really was a stranger and that he could very well have lead us to a field to die. No, no, not necessary.

The next day Linx, Em and I went back to the Cafe to firm up the details but the deal was off. He couldn’t get a car. He did know a guy who knew a guy though. He’d have the details tomorrow. We went back to the hostel and broke the news to Lee. Yeah, she wasn’t into the idea at all. She did suggest though that if the owner of the hostel had a friend she’d be OK with that. Parvel was a nice guy; he owned a few hostels and did seem genuine without any trace of having people tied up and tortured in the basement. We agreed to the suggestion and planned to firm it all up the next day.

Now, I’m not saying I’m proud of what happened next but it was frickin funny. The next day we went to the Internet café to get in touch with Parvel but we couldn't get in touch with him. Like a Mexican dangling a carrot in front of a Donkey, our friend the Internet Café Manager told us his friend of a friend of a friend was keen to help us. Right there, in front of us, an easy option. We decided to take him up on the offer. Now, how to break the news to Lee? Did we even have to? Really all she needed to know was that a Polish man would be picking us up in the morning to drive us to Hungary. With any luck the driver wouldn’t speak English and we could pull this whole thing off with Lee thinking all the while he’s a friend of Parvels. We decided to keep it a secret between us. And so it was done, so long as we kept Parvel away from Lee and Lee didn’t speak to the driver we’d be sorted.

We spent the rest of the day wandering the streets. Lee was happy, we were happy, Poland was happy. We went back to the hostel to chill out and left Lee reading Bridget Jones to go and get dinner. Out and about the shit really hit the fan. We'd received an email to call Parvel. He was responding to our call from the day before, the one we’d made to see if he knew anyone who could drive us. I called him and told him we no longer needed his help and that we’d see him before we left.

“Yes, I will see you soon,” he said, “I’m on the way to the Hostel now.”

"Oh, sounds good," I replied

It wasn’t until I hung up and told Linx and Em that Parvel was heading over to the hostel that it hit us. Lee was at the Hostel. Parvel was going to talk to Lee. Lee would ask him about his friend, the one supposedly driving us to Hungary. Parvel would say he didn’t have a friend driving us to Hungary. Lee would go mental. Her head would literally explode. Shit!

I’ve never been a good runner, in fact I’m a shit runner but when you realise you’re about to incur the wrath of Lee you run. We ran. Two and a half kilometres later we burst into the hostel sweating and hyperventilating while trying to play it cool. We were too late. Lee glared at us and asked why Parvel knew nothing about someone driving us to Budapest. As if by sheer luck and as a result of a severe language barrier Parvel saved us.

“You want driver. Yes, I get driver. I know guy.”

See. You see, just like we said. Pulling out his eighties style cell phone Parvel put in a call.

The next day we sat by the window watching cars pass, none stopping for us. We were waiting for Darrick who was a student that Parvel had once studied with. He'd done an excited song and dance when Parvel told him what we were going to pay for the ride, apparently it was a lot to him. Finally across the road an old station wagon pulled up, mounting the curb and hitting a trash can.

“That better not be him,” threatened Linx.

Out of the car came Darrick with a smile and a wave.

“We’re all going to die.” We’d become used to Linx’s optimism.

We piled into the car with everyone insisting I sit in the front. It turned out he didn’t speak a lot of English but he did have a translator on his phone which he waved in front of us. Once we’d bounced off the curb we were on our way. We had no idea where we were going, how long it would take and where to go once we got to Budapest. Once again we were winging it without a care and our hands in the life of a Polish student with a Nokia and a thermos full of “corfee”.

We drove for hours in the day light with Darrick attempting to talk to us along the way. When he didn’t know a word he’d punch it into his phone while driving, he’d look at me while talking, and driving and he’d fiddle with a piece of paper on his lap, while driving. He did most things while driving apart from look at the road. He managed to tell us he was a rally driver. Great. And that he was studying to be a pilot. We were in a car being driven by Evil Kanevils biggest fan. Everyone slowly dropped off to sleep leaving me to talk to Darrick while pointing continually at the road. “Oh ok, yep, uh-huh – eyes on the road – ok…” After a while of driving in the dark I noticed that Darrick was looking at his piece of paper a lot more. He looked at me with a grin and held up the paper, his ‘maaap’. We were lost and I now realised why. The so called map was possibly meant to be a picture of a spider that’d been drawn by a five year old. A circle in the middle with a few lines coming off it that I assumed represented highways. We continued on with Darrick still looking at his paper. I decided to let him run with it. After a few turns he jeered with success, we were back on track! Everyone started to rouse as we came to a border crossing. We had no idea where we were. We were ushered to the side as two men carrying guns approached the car. We handed over our passports as one man opened the trunk of the car to inspect. They spent a lot of time poking around in there while we waited. Darrick turned to us.

“I hope they no find my drugs.”

We all looked at him horrified. He stared back before cracking a smile and laughing.

“Ah you faces, you shoo see you faces!!”

Funny. Very funny you crazy psycho. After a moment our passports were returned and the trunk slammed shut. We were back on our way. I opened my passport to check the stamp; I still wasn’t sure where we were. We drove on for a few kilometres before pulling into a café for a toilet break. We went into the old diner with pink chairs and plastic table cloths. We were the only ones there. Darrick directed us to sit and spoke to the waitress. As we sat Cokes were brought to the table as well as cutlery. I guess we were eating. From the kitchen came four plates, each with a square of…something on it. It kind of looked like a hash brown but not. I cut it open and melted cheese oozed out. Deep fried cheese – awesome! It was delicious. We finished our meals and paid. Looking at the coins we got as change we realised we were in Slovakia. At least we were headed in the right direction. We piled back into the car and kept going on our journey.

After a few more hours of deciphering Polish to English we saw the bright lights of Budapest. We decided to get dropped at the central train station. We’d figure the rest out from there. Darrick delivered us, as promised near midnight. He was planning on heading straight back to Poland to feed his girlfriends Cats. And so we said goodbye to our crazy friend as he threw back some more coffee.

I strapped on my pack and not prepared for the weight of it fell backwards. It was midnight, it was cold and there I was, on the pavement, stranded on my back like a turtle that had been flipped. 



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1701267-TheBlondeBackpacker---Poland-to-Hungary