You might have guessed by my salmon blog that my travels have led me to be rather mcguiverish when it comes to handling airports. Well, traveling around Europe for a semester has only helped that expertise.You know that movie ”The Terminal”? Who do you think hired Tom Hanks to play the role of herself because Monique wasn’t avaliable? I’m writing this now while in a 12 hour wait at the London Heathrow airport. After much thought and consideration, I’ve accumulated a list of DOs and DONT’S with airports. So, if you weren’t able to whore yourself out for a place to sleep like a normal person would, this list will probably come in handy. Enjoy.

DON’T: read the rest of this if you’re worried about killing time with your 4 hour layover. Drink a cafe latte, watch Adam Sandler on your Ipad and go fuck yourself. 

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Budapest, mid November. Due to the dwindling size of our wallets compared with the prices of available flight times, we found ourselves without much time to spare. I was with a small group; Jenna, Norma, Tesha, and Jill. Having not yet travelled with this combination of people, I found myself wishing I had spent more time with them. Nothing like kicking it around eastern Europe with a small group of cool chicks who are into, like, looking at stuff, but no man, I’m totally down to do whatever you want to do, like, yeah! With a good mixture of get-up-and-go, but also go-with-the-flow, we made good work of our short time in the Hungarian capital. 

We did a whole bunch of cultural things, and ate a ton of really good food, but the highlight of this trip for me actually came in the first few hours of the first night. Having just arrived, we were fast approaching hungry. Something I’ve learned about myself this semester is that there isn’t much that can damper my spirits- save hunger. Once I reach that point, any sense of humor vanishes, and I become a silently smoldering sack of misery. I imagine this holds true for a good number of people, so, keeping this in mind, we set out immediately to make sure we made it to a restaurant before such a state was incurred. 

We walked down the street to a restaurant. The menu outside seemed good so we inquired within… only to be told that the restaurant didn’t open until 8. Looking in the window, I was pretty sure people were in there, but I didn’t care enough to make a thing about it. I mean, I typically don’t make things of anything anyway. But the important part here is that the host told us to go down the street to a place called The Gong Restaurant. Based off the name, we thought maybe it was a Chinese place. Even though we wanted traditional Hungarian food for our first real dinner, we were hungry enough that we didn’t really care.

We arrived at the Globe Restaurant and a grandpa-aged man came bouncing out. He was identifiably the host, and he was all smiles.

“How many?” He asked.

“Five,” someone said.

“Six?” He asked.

“… Uh, no, five.” Suddenly I began to have doubts about this place.

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