The Hungary post.

Maybe I over-romanticize Europe, and maybe that's harmful--I mean, it has its share of problems, just like the US--but can I help it if every time I've gone there I've had the time of my young life?
My spring break in Budapest last week was my first trip to Europe in a strictly tourist capacity, and while I didn't have time or local connections enough to bond with the city in the same way I did with St. Petersburg and Edinburgh, I was still damn impressed. It's definitely my kind of city: small enough to be easily navigable, large enough to be vibrant and full of things to do. Public transport is easy to use, inexpensive and efficient, and there are tons of chill coffee shops and bars to hang out in. Not to mention that it's gorgeous, especially when it's warm and sunny (which it was for almost the entire duration of my trip--I only saw clouds right when I got there and right before I left.)
And of course there was the boy--Austen--my ersatz tour guide and provider of shelter, among other things. We covered all the sightseeing bases, had some really nice dinners, went to the opera, took an afternoon trip to a nearby village...all the usual touristy stuff. We also got to check out some speeches and demonstrations on March 15th, the anniversary of Hungary's 1848 revolution. At the time neither of us were particularly sure what was going on--damn Hungarian--but apparently a lot of it had to do with Hungary's right-wing party calling for the resignation of the Prime Minister. Thankfully we missed this riot, which happened a couple streets over from Austen's apartment. We did get to see a crowd of protesters throw water balloons and eggs at...um, some government person...but he was protected by a couple of Secret Service types wielding black umbrellas.
I'm so incredibly happy to have gone, but now I'm a bit depressed. I mean, I finally got to be with the guy I adore in the continent I adore, only to have to return to writing my thesis, contemplating my future and dealing with LA public transport after just one all-too-brief week. And I had literally no time to decompress--I got into LA Sunday night, only to have to go to my internship yesterday and classes today. I'd think the whole trip was some impossibly euphoric fever dream if I didn't have photographic proof.
I'm not saying LA doesn't have any pretty sights, but honestly, when it comes to sheer eye-melting gorgeousness per square foot, you can't beat a European capital. Going from that to Burbank's Media District kind of makes me want to swear off America for a good long while.