English times: Ludwigsburg, Germany

The following is what I used for the last post.
I am king at stretching content!

So, where was I?
Ah yes, leaving Brasov.
When my train crossed the border from Hungary to Romania two days previous, I had the intelligence and forethought to change the time on my watch. Last thing I want is to quickly check my watch and miss a train by an hour. Sadly, on the morning of my departure from Brasov, I noticed very quickly that my iPod (which is now my full time alarm clock), synched with my computer, which was set to the old time zone. I woke up that morning, smashed my iPod (as usual) and napped for another ten minutes. When my alarm went off again, I checked my watch, and became fully aware that I had only thirty minutes till my train would depart.
Normally, such things are not a problem, but not only did I already have the ticket purchased, but the train I wanted was the only to depart for Bucharest in six hours (super lame). To make things worse, the train station was a good 15 minutes drive from my hostel, and the bus only comes every 15 minutes.

In a furious haste, I packed my stuff, retrieved my deposit from the hostel (I considered sacrificing my deposit for the cause, possibly saving precious minutes), and then ran to the bus stop.
Lucky Kyle #1 was that the reception was open, and the employee had the money ready.
Lucky Kyle #2 was that the bus I needed arrived after just five minutes of waiting.
Lucky Kyle #3 was that the bus did not hit a traffic jam.
Lucky Kyle #4 was that the bus did not burst in to flames (I just don't like busses, ok?).
As much as I truly despise travel by bus (making sure that sinks in), my ride to the train station was quite "fun," for it was equipped with satellite radio, which was tuned to what I could only describe as Arabian car chase music (this helped relive some stress, and pumped me up to boot!). Adding to the good music, the driver had no care for the safety of people on, or off the bus (zoom zoom).
So in the end, I managed to catch my train. I was early by about 90 seconds, so off I went, with brand new adventures awaiting me in Bucharest.

Bus travel (sigh), was the only method of transport to my new hostel in Bucharest. That being said, the bus system there was top notch. They were roomy, clean, and extremely modern. Each vehicle was equipped with a real time GPS, and an LCD monitor with flawless updates on the current route (such as, where and when the next 5-6 stops will be, coupled with an overview map).

To completely plagiarize my guide book (which was 100% correct in this matter):
"Bucharest is a city of stray dogs, rip off taxis, lack of tourist information, and communist smears."

I was only in Bucharest for two days, but even the hostel employees were confused by any travelers to the city (most common question asked was "why Bucharest?"). If I were to describe Bucharest, I would use the term "Communist era, architectural wasteland." Don't get me wrong, there are some things that communism can give us that democracy can not. One such project would be the complete demolition of an entire urban district to house the big mamma of parliament buildings. The Bucharest Palace of Parliament is the second largest building in the world (second to the Pentagon), and took nearly 700 architects, and 100 bajillion Romanian nou lei (their currency) to build. Security around the building was tight as (nerd reference alert!): Michael's CS AK-47 skillz, Alan's AOEII Saracen skillz, Adam's Rogue "enchanted bow of lighting" skillz, or my own personal "lets cast D+D on my allied dragons" skillz. Needless to say, that's incredibly tight security.

Much like Brasov, the best thing to do in Bucharest was simply to walk around the downtown (especially at dusk). The "old town" district was simply the most seedy European old town i've yet to see. The roads were ten times worse than Saskatoon roads, packs of (big, but seemingly non violent) dogs roamed the area, and most buildings looked (and most likely were) completely condemned. The river smelled of sewage and fish (some people were in fact fishin), and the downtown district was in a state of perpetual traffic jam.

The following day found me (once again) on a bus. This time, however, I was going to be on it for twelve hours (instead of the much preferred, ten minutes).
Next up? Tales of the Turkish Delight.

-Kyle-now thinking of thatched roof cottages-out