Budapest: Day One

I’m very excited to reach Budapest. I’d been umming and ahhing all year with the idea of a ‘game mini-break’ and had so far not been keen, due to 2 reasons:

1) The year before I’d gone on a (for me) disastrous 3 week euro-trip with Krauser, Burto and Jambone where I’d completely wigged out and shut down then spent three weeks in Avoidance Cave. Where I am now I can completely see that given my level back then and the people I was with why this happened.

2) Mainly due to Jambone’s incessant eulogising/avoidance, I feared that a dose of the tottie-dripping fabled streets of Europe and London would be soured to me and my weasel would delight in finding a new reason to do less work in London.

Most of the year passes and I grind away at my workrate in London. Eventually, however, I decide that a little trip away may in fact do me good. I’m planning to live abroad and travel and totty-hunt over the next few years so by now I’d like to do a small pressure test: I want to see if I can hack travelling alone or whether I’ll have poor state control. I’ve got to use up holiday and Budapest seems cheap and from reports I’ve heard has decent foot-traffic so I book myself up for 4 days.

This is not to be a holiday. It’s an exercise in discipline and state control. I book myself a solo apartment near the centre. I pack solid walking boots. I’m off.


I’m out by 11.30am the first day, which would be freakishly early for me in London. I have a lazy breakfast then weasel 2 sets and head into town. I deliberately try not to psyche myself up. I want to move away from game being a day of ups and downs. I don’t want to rely on state. I’m sauntering along and see a redhead dressed in colours which remind me of the Klimt painting “Birch Forest”. I tell her. She likes it. On closer inspection I realise she’s more aged than I realised. This later proves to be a common theme here. Chicks here SMOKE. It weathers them. They slather themselves with foundation and due to the fact they don’t have the rampant corpulence which identifies virtually all British girls over 26 you end up opening them by accident. Still… the ball is rolling.

I don’t intend to write a set by set account but I’ll summarise: I finish around 7pm and I’ve done 21 sets. I’ve had a few Facebooks and nothing strong. I’m very pleased with myself. I’m solo, wandering round an alien city and street-stopping girls, lots of them and have not had any weird meltdowns or wig-outs. My state is absolutely rock solid level.

As soon as I decide to ‘clock off’ I turn on my heel and immediately start walking home. No skulking round wasting time looking for bounce-backs or such like. I’m on a schedule and have three more days solid work to do. I make a beeline straight for the Hungarian restaurant near my apartment and order an enormous pan of food: roast duck, cabbage and dumplings, washed down with three beers. I’m back home by ten and in bed by midnight.

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