“You want the window seat?” I asked Frank.
“What? Did you say you need to drop a deuce?”
This short exchange has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the story except that there’s one more benefit to train travel: conversation. Who knows how my husband equated the gesture of offering a window seat to a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy act of nature (women never do this, by the way), but it was comedic gold nonetheless.
Up until Budapest, a lot of our conversing revolved around life and travel. There were questions like: “what if I was pregnant and we find out they’re twins!” Panic-stricken silence.
“Do twins run in your family? Ohmygodpleasedonottellme…twins don’t run in your family, right? RIGHT?”
“No twins.”
Relieved silence would ensue and then we would jump on to other topics that seemed completely appropriate for a honeymoon, like: “did you see that girl’s buttcheeks hanging out?”
“Of course I did.”
Sigh.
That’s what honeymoons are all about: conversations and learning how men and women interpret things; which, by the way, is totally different from each other. I wanted to hand buttcheeks-girl a cover up, husband didn’t seem to mind that buttcheeks were hanging out.
But, there’s one thing, we interpreted together: Budapest really is pretty. A lot of people refer to Budapest as the Paris of the East. We, however, highly doubt that. The city is in a class of its own. Gorgeous architecture and rich history, Budapest is clearly just Budapest. There are only two words for the city: it’s pretty.
Wow, that Parliament sure is pretty! And that architecture is pretty! That horsey is pretty! that garden is so pretty! That statue is statuesque and pretty! And lastly, that dome is so pretty!
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