Quiet Memorial on the Danube

This may be the smallest, most understated Holocaust memorial anywhere in the world.  It is nothing more than about 60 pairs of real shoes, perhaps "iron-ed" and then welded to the bank of the Danube in Budapest, only a few steps from their beautiful Parliament building.  Constructed just 6 years ago, it commemorates a fateful night in January, 1945, when dozens of Jews, whom Raoul Wallenberg had been attempting to hide/save, were rounded up and brought to the banks of the river.  Perhaps unwilling to dig a mass grave in the frozen earth, the Nazi sympathizers simply lined them all up and shot them, allowing the bodies to drop into the Danube and be carried off.   There are all kinds of shoes, including those of small children.  While there is a small plaque nearby, there are no other words, sounds, or markers.  The shoes simply speak for themselves.

A Storm For the Record Books

Yesterday afternoon's freak storm was the stuff they write about in books.  At least 5 attendees were killed at an outdoor concert about an hour east of here, as tents, scaffolding, and nearly everything else that wasn't somehow welded to solid earth went flying.  I've never seen anything like it in my 13+ years in Europe.  About 3 inches of rain fell in under an hour.
At 4PM it was nothing more than cloudy.  By 5PM it was torrential rain, with hail the size of large peas bouncing all over the trampoline out back.  I could look out the upstairs window and see the house next door...any nothing beyond it.  An hour later it seemed to be all over, but just one hour after that it was back again.  If they ever got tornados in western Europe, this would have been the time for one.
Just two days ago the weather forecast was for a week of sunny weather so Mr. Dumb here spent the $13 to get his car washed (the first time in months, thanks to our dismal early summer).  Not a wise move...

Catching a Flick, Belgian Style

Lucie and I went to see "Super 8" on Sunday at a large movie complex in Brussels. It had something like 20 screens, so you can imagine how busy the place was that afternoon. First off, there is no such thing as reduced matinee prices: tickets run $13, no matter when the show. But just buying the ticket is where the real problems begin. Unlike the U.S., where there are usually humans involved and an individual can buy a ticket in, say, 30 seconds, here it is almost entirely automated, with banks of ticket-vending machines resembling rows of slots in Vegas.

To choose which language you want the instructions in, then which card you intend to insert, then which movie, etc., etc., you can see how this takes about 3 minutes per customer. With 15 people in front of every machine, well, you do the math.

But the problems continue: humans are involved in the actual ticket taking. How many would you guess are on duty, to handle the hundreds of customers? A grand total of two. So, tack on an additional 10 minutes or so in line.

You make it into the auditorium where, I do have to admit, the chairs are about the most comfortable I've ever seen in a theater. Then come the previews and, more often, the commercials. Not just 10 or even 15 minutes-worth, like at home. Nope - here the pre-game show runs a full half-hour. Only after this string of ordeals can you sit back, relax, and hopefully enjoy the movie (which I didn't even like much: it seemed like Spielberg couldn't decide whether he was shooting for a remake of Stand By Me, ET, or War of the Worlds).

But I save the best for last: a trip to the potty. I would have thought that $13 ought to entitle me to, say, one free visit. Not in Belgium, my friends. Here, you pay yet again, for the privelege of a pee.

Boy, how I wish they had Blockbuster or Hollywood Video over here...

Sorry, Prince, You're Not Invited

As we all know by now, Belgium has more than its fair share of issues, attempting to be a modern, first-world, western European monarcy/nation. Besides having no functioning government for well over a year now (I don't think there's any African or southeast Asian nation which can boast the same...), even the monarchy seems to be disfunctional.
Not disfunctional as in the UK, where most royal dalliances seem to center on sex or divorce. Here, it's disfunctional as in the crown prince can't seem to keep his mouth shut whenever he travels and has now gotten himself onto a sort of internal national PNG list. Recent trips to the Congo and Libya turned into public relations disasters for him and it's gotten to the point where he is no longer allowed to travel abroad without first clearing the trip with the parliament (!). The parliament which, of course, was voted out of office over a year ago.
There are over a half-dozen monarchies in western Europe, but none seems to be plagued with royal issues as much as Belgium. The prince has become such a lightening rod for embarrassment that, at the royal festivities this week to celebrate Belgian Independence Day, the king formally dis-invited him to take part. Just as well - the prince was probably busy checking out Ryan Air flights on line, booking his next purchase to Morocco or somewhere in that area...

Not a Clue...

Since this was seen on the elevator in a 4-star hotel, I have to assume it's all above-board. That being said, maybe What Happens In Budapest, Stays in Budapest...

An der schoenen ?blauen? Donau

That's what Johann Strauss called it - the beautiful, blue Danube.
Having seen this river in 4 different countries now, I can tell you that 1) it definitely is the Danube; 2) it might just be beautiful; and, 3) no way is it blue!
I find it hard to believe it was all that blue even in Strauss' time; I'm wondering how much Austrian wine he had imbibed when he wrote the waltz.

Definitely Not From Here

Seen on a busy street in Budapest last week.
Admittedly, this is one of the busiest intersections of car, bus, and tram in the entire city. That being said, here's probably a good rule of thumb: if you start driving down a narrow street, notice no other cars on that same street, have no traffic lights or stop signs, and see that you are actually driving on streetcar tracks, it's probably a good idea to get off that street. Now. This guy has obviously made a poor choice (no doubt assisted by his GPS system, my favorite whipping boy, but that's another blog post). We didn't have the guts to stick around to see the outcome, although 10 minutes later we did hear lots of sirens coming from this general area...