BOUND TO BUDDHA, BUT NOT TO PEST - TO LEAVE OR NOT TO LEAVE?

'BackPack' Hostel, Budapest:

On the wood of the bunk bed above my head reads the graffitti:
'This hostel is real good at making you not bother going to other countries - or into Budapest".
And lo and behold, this all seems to be very true. Since moving here after meeting Dutch Saskia, with the intention of staying only two extra nights, my concepts of time have changed radically. On my second night at 'The Backpack' a bunch of us leave at around midnight to find somewhere to dance. Seems we're not so good at reading the map however, as we walk for an hour or more searching in vain for somewhere to go- I don't mind, as I've just come along at the last minute and am happily singing away with fellow music-lovers who know all the words to 'Don't Stop Me Now'. We sing all that we collectively know, and I could walk all night doing this - 'Under The Bridge', 'Heart Shaped Box', 'Jeremy" by Pearl Jam... but eventually we find a nice garden bar to have a drink in. There doesn't seem to be any music around however, and we almost give up hope until we stumble across a warehouse still open at 4 a.m on a Tuesday morning. There's about a dozen or so loose limbed Hungarians and other revellers dancing to electro music that reverberates off the walls and floorboards, so we have a great dance with them before they finally close half an hour later.

Because we get home at around 6 a.m that morning, my usual routines are slipping a bit. I still go out busking almost every day; it's rare for me to have a day off simply because I love it so much, though sometimes I'm not out until three or four. One day I'm so determined to go out and earn my keep that I ignore the grey clouds above me, and am sitting determinedly singing away until the first fat drops of water start to coat Stella (guitar) and like a protective mother I make for the nearest alcove to sit again and outwait the downpour.

Here I find a nice enough place to play, and I sit and sing mostly for myself as the water cascades and falls. It stops half an hour later and, as the air quietens with it, I realise how beautiful the acoustics in this little alcove are; perfect for dreamers like me who could spend hours in Fisherman's Bastillion staring out at Budapest all majestic below. Here in the serenity of 'Buda', people have time to listen for a while - I am definitely a lot happier here than in 'Pest' - which can feel exactly like it's name - a pain in the touristic butt! 'Buddha' suits me much more I think, and I decide this city has a soul after all.

In the alcove, I'm watched by three travellers from Northern England, who request songs I've written myself. It's nice to practice these - meeting Saskia has inspired me to write my own tunes again after a few months of not feeling particularly inspired. The three of them sit for about half an hour and we have a good chat after I finish, before I sigh and lug my sleek black girl down the hill once again, feeling refreshed as always by a few hours of singing. It always works a treat...

There's two other travelling musicians at the hostel, so on my last night we jam a little with their violas and some hip-hop-esque freestyling from the various crazies I've been hanging out with these past five days. I feel like I've been part of a family in some way, and though my being is feeling the effects off all these mad parties, I still leave with great reluctance. I sit on the train to Bratislava, Slovakia fighting off sleep and yet feel somehow replenished as well. I remember that a week ago I was considering calling the whole thing off as I was just feeling so worn out. Though I'm now perhaps worn out in a different way, my enthusiasm for travel has returned and I wonder what new adventures this country Slovakia will hold for me...