Famished

Crossing Eastern Europe we then embarked on our next mission, Hungary. Contrary to popular belief there is an abundance of food in Hungary, as well as a rich tapestry of architecture, history and large men with shaven heads who look like they could open a new jar of gherkins first try. The city itself is amazing, rather like Ljubjlana (fuck I'm sick of spelling that word) it is centralised around a river however it is 5 times the length and breadth of the former's tributary. We explored the cities ancient buildings and also its stories, where we came upon a bejewelled mummified hand in an old church that belonged to a past ruler of the kingdom. Then we had lunch just outside. I avoided the 'hand' sandwich instead opting for the pigs knuckle. But I digress. 'The Librarian', 'the Robber' and I then found ourselves ushered aboard a fine vessel where we were taken on a leisurely cruise of the river Danube and treated to some more Hungarian cuisine this time a little less extreme-ity. Goulash and cabbage rolls with sour cream lined our stomachs as we basked in the glow of both banks of the Danube. On the west side the ancient part of the city Buda, and on the eastern bank the newer more modern city Pest and the two of course conjoin forming the city of as we know it today.

Look Dad some more statues of guys riding horses!

The 3rd horse from the left became slightly aroused by a young 'Robber' beneath him

Womb with a view

Horse testicles were considered a delicacy in Hungary

(Footnote: It is lucky in Hungary to rub this horses balls, hence their golden glow)

Who's Buda who's Pest?

Hand Cannon

Mario preferred the magic leaf to mushrooms

I thought the church learnt not to worship golden idols from Moses back at Mt Sinai?

Not a bad place to have lunch ey?

(Footnote: The church behind us is where the mummified hand was housed)

'The Robber', forced to bat for the other side due to lack of game

Ljubljana - Can't say it, can't spell it

The capital of the now thriving nation of Slovenia is Ljubljana. Upon gracing it with our presence we noticed two things. It was beautiful and so were the people who were in it (well actually just the girls but for posterity's sake we'll say 'the people' instead of 'the girls' of Ljubljana). With a narrow river running through its center like a turquoise ribbon around a carefully wrapped gift, Ljubljana is the Prague of today. Being one of the first nations to throw off the shackles of the former Yugoslavia, Slovenia has prospered recently but still has not reached the touristic proportions of its neighbour. Thus the beer is cheap, the women are beautiful and yet still highly interested in foreigners and for a taken man that is highly interested in European fashion such as myself, it was a shoppers paradise. However due to the recent indescretions in 'Lake Bled' I was forced to purchase an entire wardrobe that I tried on in one store as whilst donning the final garment in my selection I noticed that I had conveniantly bled over every piece of cloth I had touched. Lucky it was so cheap hey! Coagulation problems aside I highly recommend this city to any readers who are after clothing, the coersion of beautiful members of the opposite sex (girls) and cheap booze.

Ironic Irony

And thus our stint in the civilised and cultural portion of Europe ended (I am unsure if a civilised Italy is an oxymoron) as we delved into the deep dark depths of what is Eastern Europe to a country know as Slovenia. Every cliche' of dilapidated buildings, mere ruins, new seasons of Miami Vice and Knight Rider and elderly women who look like elderly men washing their head scarves in the local puddle were completely and utterly, unsubstantiated. Instead we found on the outskirts a picturesque town named rather inappropriately, Lake Bled. The name itself conjured up pictures in the imagination of a Mrs Vorhees slaughtering of our would be group of youths whilst we frolicked at the lake's dark edges, however upon arrival I was somewhat disappointed with its still reflective waters, and its insular church bequeathing its very center, like the jewel in its unadulterated crown. How could a place with a name that belonged in an 80's teen slasher flick be so dam beautiful, it was a travesty to the genre to say the least, hence I was determined to spoil its serenity. What would be the ultimate homage to such a locale? Ah yes of course...to be bled into Lake Bled. So with my trusty Swiss army knife in hand, the tribute began. Amidst cries of anguish and disgust the flesh of my index finger was pierced and sliced (on the 3rd attempt mind you) and with tranquility as its soundtrack and flawlessness as its backdrop I held my hand aloft and let my lifeblood drip slowly atop the waters of a lake that was named for this very occasion. Now its perfection was complete.

Post traumatic re-enactment with authentic wound and weapon