We felt like zombies when the alarm went off at 7am this morning, but we're running out of time in Budapest so we forced ourselves out of bed in early enough to line up for tickets to tour the Parliament building. After a quick breakfast we made the now all-too-familiar trek and bought yet another round of outrageously overpriced entry tickets. I really dropped the ball on the museum budgeting for this city; I guess I just assumed it would be cheap. Think again! This place has easily blown away the costs of Paris or Ireland. I still can't figure that out: what are they doing with all the money??? Our guidebooks weren't kidding about tickets selling fast, so even though we were in line bright and early we still got stuck with a later tour. That meant we had an hour and a half to kill, which was a hair too little to get to Matthius church and back. Instead we sought out a post office to mail out a heaping stack of postcards. I know they're a bit old fashioned (they certainly cost more, contain less information, and are more of a pain than a quick email) but for all the obvious faults I find them romantic and essential to a good trip. Who doesn't like receiving one? I love seeing the various post marks left on it in transit. For some reason it makes the place you're in feel so much further away from home. The post lady was a little weird and seemed to be reading what we wrote on each of the postcards, one by one. It was pretty obvious, but I'm still a bit confused because I don't think she actually spoke English. It was enough to tick Brittany off, but I kept her from jumping the counter haha I'm always surprised by what gets under her skin when we're on a trip; we have very different pet peeves. After the post office we walked to a four story mall that our tiny map promised was just around the corner...NOT! We walked and walked, finally arriving at the mall covered in sweat. We had about twenty minutes inside before we had to step back out into the heat, which would've been intolerable in my black hoodie if it weren't for the cool and constant breeze whistling between the buildings. It's unusually warm here right now (in the 80's) and I am seriously regretting my packing choices! Our tour of the Parliament building was pretty uneventful. By standards back home the interior was downright breathtaking, but here in Europe it was a bit of a letdown. You mean solid gold doesn't cover EVERY wall and diamonds don't surround thousand-year-old artwork in the ceiling??? Psshh, movin' on. Our guide had a really thick accent and was speaking into a microphone that made her sound like she had a wet washcloth over her face. Really the only redeeming quality to the place was the crown of St. Stephen (mummy hand man) with it's crooked cross and storied thousand-year past. Unfortunately we weren't allowed to take pictures of the dumb thing, but it was interesting to see. As soon as the Parliament tour was over we had a plan. We were all dead tired and wanted to get to the Matthius church (for the third time in three days) as soon as possible so we could see the inside and get back to our hostel in time for a nap before tonight's meeting. We could see the church from where we stood, and it looked to be a thousand miles away. Dreading the thought of crossing a bridge and climbing hundreds of stairs we hatched a plot to take the metro under the river and smack dab where we wanted to go. That was the start of an epic fail. We got on the metro and reached our stop no problem, easy breezy Japanesey. Taking the long, steep escalator from the metro car to above ground was a little trickier than it should've been; so many people loaded onto it that it shut down. When the three of us started marching up the OTHER non-working escalator adjacent to it (not covered in people) we were yelled at in Hungarian through a mysterious hidden speaker. We only knew they were talking to us when several people on the jammed one signaled that we needed to get off. Back down we went, and finally it restarted. Can you tell that this little outing is not going to go well? Once we finally got above ground, we had no idea where we were and absolutely nothing looked familiar. We tried to figure it out with the maps in our guidebook, but the harder we looked at the map the more confused we became. Brittany and I took turns claiming it was "just over there" or "in THAT direction" while Chelsea dutifully followed, blistered feet and all. We would literally walk a half mile in one direction before deciding that wasn't the right way, then re-trace our steps and repeat the process at least four times. It was miserable! Brittany and I were about ready to kill each other in frustration before finally seeing a road sign that indicated the right path. No death toll to report, but it was close! On the plus side all that walking around meant we stumbled upon a group of sisters using the wheeled literature carts to witness at a bus station. We were so excited to see friends and I got a great picture of them with Brittany and Chelsea. Unfortunately they spoke only a few words of English (a common problem we've had here) so we didn't get to talk much. I think what made the 'getting lost' experience especially terrible is that we had been doing so well up to that point. Before then we hadn't had any problems at all with figuring out where things are; usually you can see the top of a steeple or the river to get your bearings. Ugh, the more I think about it the angrier I get. The whole point of taking the metro was to avoid some stairs. In the end, we still had to take every stinking last stair in the city and we wasted over two hours walking in circles. No nap for us! In desperation we even slithered into a McDonald's for cheap, fat-filled, hold me until I stop crying food. It sat in our stomach like a rock and made our endless hiking all the worse. Things finally got better when we crawled through the church door, looking like we had been filming a Spaghetti Western and smelling even worse. The inside of the church has been immaculately restored. Much of it was destroyed during the war, but thousands of hours were spent repairing and hand painting the walls and ceilings. Brittany enjoyed it because it's the least churchy of all the churches we've visited, if that makes any sense. A lot of the stained glass and paintings are simple and beautiful geometric designs (not twisted Bible scenes or dogma). The lighting was very low so my pictures aren't all that great, but all things considered it was worth the hassle/journey to get there. One part of the stonework is original and nearly 800 years old, so obviously there is a lot of history to take in. Overall it reminded me of my favorite cathedral in Paris: St. Chapelle. Every square inch of the walls and ceilings are covered with something intricate and beautiful. Running out of time, we walked down the steps and over the bridge to the hostel, our feet barely lifting off the ground as we laboriously placed one in front of the other. Quick showers perked us up a little (we felt a lot lighter without eight layers of funk) and we set out for the Kingdom Hall. It was only a few blocks away, but we still had a hard time finding it. I would never have guessed in a million years that there was a Hall on that street, and it was so inconspicuous that we only realized it was there after seeing the name 'Jehovah' on a wall. Seeing the Halls in major cities like this definitely makes you appreciate the sprawling auditoriums we have at home. There were around a hundred people there for the English meeting, and not one of the speakers was a native speaker. They were all doing so well and working so hard that I made a point of telling each of them how much I appreciated their effort. I think I can finally identify with the way the French speakers in our congregation must feel, listening to so many learners give talks! It's always so refreshing to meet the brothers and sisters, and to be reminded that we really are a worldwide brotherhood, all being taught in the same way. After the meeting we walked (in a very roundabout *lost* kind of way) to a traditional Hungarian coffee house that has been around since the 1800's. The atmosphere was fantastic, and as you can tell from the pictures we indulged a little bit. What do you think it would take to OD on sugar? :) Tomorrow is our last day here, but, having seen all the big stuff, we have nothing planned. All I know is that we're sleeping in!