Muslim while flying

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I am12439144_168916830139111_736314021671089004_n very upset today !!!!!Watch my video

All the things I was brought up to believe in , freedom, democracy, Cohesion, Liberty, equality!!!

Was all stripped from me today😔 !!!

Warning for you all, today 5/FEB/2016 8.25am Flight TOM389 my wife and me boarded a flight to Morocco and just before it was going to take off we were told to get of the airplane because I was Muslim & could be a safety hazard !!!

Because my wife was wearing a hijab and me having a beard ! I thought the beard was in fashion 😎.
But seriously it was very shocking , embarrassing and disturbing to be honest especially for my wife who is nearly 6 month pregnant 😔.

They had removed us because we look like Muslims then they will have to remove me every time & I will just go to Butlins 😂. But seriously I am very proud to be a British Muslim, I was born here all my childhood friends are English , my children are born here , I pay my taxes , give jobs to local people ,support local charities , run youth projects to help kids in the community, support local football teams , feed the homeless in my community every week, went to help my neighbours in Cumbria with the floods , consider everyone as a friend a human being a neighbour regardless of colour or religion to be nice and polite.

But today I suffered the worst RACISM of my life being hurled of a plane with my pregnant wife for being a ASAIN MUSLIM ,I never thought I would see the day that the British government would become so Racist and make me a British born person ,brought up to believe in all things British, then just strip me of all those values I had been brought up with all my life !

I don’t blame the British people that includes my wife , my mum ,dad, my kids , all great people just getting on with it , but the government is taking Briton into dark ages and depths I fear for the British people & way of life that I grew up with 😢 !
England went to war with Germany to free people of the oppression & the terrible crimes hitler was causing to the world and the Jews, men & woman lost their lives to promote freedom, equality , Liberty And now we have the Hitler of our time David Cameron who as just replaced the Jews with Muslims ! Those service men & women must be turning in their graves 😔!!

So please be careful about booking or book flexi tickets that way you are covered as @thomsonholidays airline will not refund my flights !

I was not going to post this but I really am upset and I don’t wish this upon any of you or anyone I fear this type of treatment will become more frequent.
I only pray that the British people talk some sense into the Government which I do not believe is representing the view of the British Public !

As William Wallace said Bravely in Brave Heart ‪#‎FREEDOM‬ 🏽

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CUBA, THE COUNTRY OF SALSA– PART 2

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We finally arrive in the pretty port town of Cienfuegos. We decide to knock on a few casa doors to find a casa that suits our needs and budget. The number of satin bed sheets and dusty rooms horrifies me. Five cas’sa down and we spot a friendly Cuban who takes us to his humble abode in the hope that we will stay there. The casa is lovely and I form an instant fondness for his adorable wife. 20 Cuc for one night with breakfast and we had ourselves a deal.

We freshened up and decided to explore the old port town. The town is famous for a chap called Benny King. I do not have a clue who he is but there is a statue of him in the centre and he was a short fella who likes wearing hats.

Walking around Cienfuegos, we attract a lot of attention as its obvious we are tourists going trigger happy with the SLR. I cannot believe that they actually use horse drawn carriages to get around the city. I thought they were just for tourists. Not ones to miss out we strike another deal to get a ride around the city in a horse drawn carriage. Once, again the Cubans rip us off.

Whilst on our adventures we bump into a Pakistani medical student who sends us on a horse and carriage to his dorm where we meet a group of Pakistani female medics who cook chicken and chapatti for us. I never thought I would be speaking Punjabi in Cuban and hanging out with Pakistani people. The Pakistani girls look like they should still be in Pakistan. Seven years later and they have mastered Spanish but not integrated into the Cuban way of live or dress. These women prefer to cover up, rather than letting it all hang loose. On our way home, we discover a Pakistani food house, where you can buy Pakistani food cooked by Cubans. The food is the worst Pakistani food I have tasted but it beats rice and beans and is costs less than 50p.

The next morning I had to endure the oddest conversation with a 50-year-old Canadian whilst trying to enjoy my Cuban breakfast of; fresh juice, coffee, eggs, fruit and dry bread. The old man was apparently in Cuba to see his 21 year old girlfriend whose job was entertaining men. This gave me a different insight into Cuba where I quickly discovered that many tourists came to Cuba for sex. For 20 Cuc, less than £10 these men could spend the night with a sensual beauty half their age. The man disgusted me and I had no qualms in calling him a pervert. I was relieved when the lovely casa owner told him that they were fully booked as our room would have been next to his.

After exploring more of Cienfuegos, we decided to catch the bus to Trinidad as it is only an hour and half journey and 6 Cuc per person by bus. The bus surprisingly does not leave on time. Nothing in Cuba happens on time. The blanket and pillow I borrowed from our Virgin flight comes in hand, as I drape both on my seat. I am allergic to dust and not resting my head on a dusty pillow.

Trinidad is a gorgeous little touristy town with amazing French style colonial buildings. We manage to find a delightful casa with a terrace and swing to stay in and again get it for a bargain price. We roam around Trinidad and are amazed at the beautiful buildings and blazing heat. Our evening is spent listening to live music at casa de museu and dining in a terrace top restaurant. It was the perfect setting for a romantic evening for the two of us.

The next day we went on a little road trip and again were ripped off by a Cuban taxi driver. Note to self, I really need to figure out the taxi prices. We went to National Park and waterfall. The waterfall itself was not spectacular but it was great to be able to swim in the spring water and go hiking. Cuba is surrounded by natural beauty and it has a lot more to offer than just beaches.

Trinidad’s cobbled streets are not great on the feet and shoes. I broke another pair of shoes. Note to self. Take better practical shoes. We decided to treat our feet to a foot massage and I opted for face massage as well. The foot massage was great, but I had to tell the man to wash his hands before he touched my face. My feet are clean, but I do not want foot-handling hands caressing my face. My facial was meant to last 15 minutes, but it was over in five minutes so I did what any alpha female would do and refused to pay the agreed amount. Luckily, the man could not be bothered to argue with me so gave me a discount. I think he just wanted me out of the shop.

We spent the following afternoon on the beach and I finally got a ride in one of the classic 1950s car. The beach is so pretty with clear blue water, I would recommend everyone to visit the beach, and you can go snorkelling as well.

Finally, I managed to get a good price on a taxi from Trinidad to Santa Clara, the resting place of Che Guevara. The taxi ride was a nightmare and I had never seen so many potholes in the road in my life. Getting a taxi to Santa Clara from Trinidad is two hours quicker than getting the bus. Thank god, the taxi had seat belts and I slept with one eye open. Two hours later and we finally arrive in Santa Clara. Santa Clara is a small university town and famous for being the place where Che was buried. We did a quick deal and got ourselves a great casa in the centre.

Santa Clara is the cheapest city we visited in Cuba and I would urge anyone going there to make sure they have some Cuban peso to save a few pence. The Cubans love salsa and I found myself a Cuban who was more than happy to teach me a few moves. Luckily, he had a lot of patience as I have two left feet when it comes to salsa. I would strongly advise taking earplugs if you are staying in the centre as the disco is very loud and you can hear reggaton until the early hours of the morning. Now, I know why the casa owner was so keen to give us the front room. I wanted to strangle him and his bloody cowboy hats that night.

The next day we walked around Santa Clara and visited the Che museum and memorial. You can visit all the sites easily by foot and do not need to get a taxi. Unlike the other cities in Cuba we visited, the locals here did not hassle us at all. It was a relief to just walk around and not have people ask us if we were from Israel. My friend wears a hijab and as far I am aware, Israeli women do not wear a hijab.

We wanted to visit Verdura, the beach but decided that it was too far and too expensive to reach by taxi and the bus left first thing in either the morning or late evening. We decided to spend another night in Cienfuegos and sample some Pakistani food. We hustled a shared taxi to Cienfuegos and soon discovered that travelling in a shared taxi meant being huddled in the back and front of the car with random Cubans. We also paid about 5 times what the Cubans paid for the same journey. Why didn’t I learn Spanish at school? If I had, I could have pretended to be a Cuban.

We stayed at the same Casa we stayed at last time with the funny woman and thank god, the old pervert was not there. I did not want to listen to him banging on about how his hired girlfriend is not faithful to him. My friend feeling generous decided to treat the Cuban boys we met last time to dinner at the Pakistani food house.  The boys thinking we were going to treat them to some five star restaurants were greatly disappointed that dinner consisted of beans and chapatti. ‘No rice, no salad’ said the boys. I said no this is it. They were happy to find out that the place had juice. Note to self, do not invite random boys out to dinner when travelling abroad.

We spent our last two nights in Havana in a gorgeous casa on Havana Street, which had an amazing restaurant opposite it, 51 Havana Street that served incredible fish dishes. At last, we had tasty food. I fell in love with old Havana, its windy streets, and old crumbling building.

Cuba is an incredible country and I am so glad I had the opportunity to visit it before the US invades it and adds a Starbuck on every corner.

Cuba, the country where time seems to have stopped – part 1

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Cuba had always fascinated me due to its location, tropical climate, incredible architecture and my love of old vintage classic cars.

I read countless travel guides and websites in preparation for my visit, but nothing could have prepared me for the slow pace of life and no McDonald’s or Starbucks. It was a relief to witness a country that hadn’t been taken over by America and had something different to offer.

As soon as we landed and headed over to the immigration area the slowness kicked in. I had never queued for over two hours to just pass through immigration. I had never seen a queue move so slowly and everyone around me thinking it was normal. In London we speed through things and don’t spend hours queuing and our queues are, well straight.

Once out of the airport, I was keen to explore the country despite the five-hour time difference. We quickly got some money changed which took far too long and hopped in a cab which took us to our Casa Particular. I had never heard of the Casa Particular concept before visiting Cuba and was a bit apprehensive about staying in someone’s house. The concept is a bit like airbnb with a Cuban twist. We arrived at our Casa which looked like it was a room in a war-torn looking street in the old part of Havana. The bed had satin sheets and wasn’t quite to my taste, but hey once in Cuba, you have to embrace all things Cuban. I quickly learnt that you could haggle on the price for everything in Cuba. Being Asian haggling came natural to me.

Walking down the street towards the old part of Havana I noticed that people were staring at my companion and myself. I asked my Amiga if I had anything on my face and she said no. Me and my Amiga are both Muslim so we dressed slightly different to the rest of the Cubans. My amigo was a hijabi (wore a Muslim head-dress) and was worried how she would be received by the Cubans. But the Cubans were mesmerised by the two of us and the head scarf turned into a talking point. It also made us stick out like a sore thumb amongst the scantily clad babes and signalled to the Cubans that we were tourists.

One thing to note about Cuban men, they love women. It doesn’t matter if you are fat, thin, short or tall, Cuban men just love women and there will always be a dashing Cuban willing to teach you salsa or a few other things. I had a few gentlemen try to teach me salsa, but salsa is a very intimate dance and I wasn’t too partial to getting to up close and personal to the Cuban studs.

Havana is a chaotic city full of hustle and bustle and con artists looking to prey on the next tourist. But, if you overlook this you’ll find a city full of charm and character. Each street tells its own story and no two streets look the same. You can find run down and beautifully restored buildings all in same street. The street I fell in love with is Caix Havana which is a street filled with incredible cafes, art shops and houses.

My Amiga keen to smoke a Cuban cigar in Havana enlisted the help of a local Cuban to buy a cigar for the bargain price of 3CUC (£2) from a local cigar selling. The guide books all advise against this and I can see why. Not one to miss a bargain and an opportunity, we thought we had struck a great deal. We lit the cigar in the old square and puffed away only to start coughing and having a sore throat. I wasn’t a cigar smoker or even a smoker, but I struggled to smoke the very harsh cigar which tasted foul. We put it down to a cheap cigar, little did we know that the cigar was a fake and had banana leaves inside it. Note to self, don’t get conned and follow the guidebook tips.

I was horrified to discover that Havana had no WiFi. Yes, that is right no WiFi. They even have WiFi in rural villages in India and Pakistan. How were we going to survive 12 days without WiFi? My poor phone would be a neglected iPhone. There was light at the end of the tunnel and we quickly discovered that you could get WiFi at three hotels in Havana but it cost more than a three course lobster meal in a local restaurant. Therefore, we decided to forgo WiFi and instead resort to face to face communication. I have to say it was a delight to have real conversations with people without constantly checking my phone every five minutes to see if anyone still cares to see if I’m still alive.

We spent our first three nights in Havana and then continued to Vinnales and Las Terraz for one night for a spot of horse riding in the mountains and a visit to a cigar factory. We shared a taxi with a couple from Germany and went on our way in a car that could only be described as a shed. I expected to be escorted in a 1950s Cadillac. But, no we got an old banger that didn’t even have seat belts. Out taxi driver arranged by the nice Casa owners turned out to be a bit of a shifty geezer. He took us on a whirlwind tour of Las Terraz which lasted about 15 minutes before he whisked us of to his mate’s cigar factory.

At the cigar factory we discovered how cigars were made and sampled a few fine cigars. The cigars tasted so much better than the one we bought from the back streets of Havana. The cigar owner’s wife offered us lukewarm tasteless coffee. Cuba is not known for its coffee and I can see why. I decided to purchase two cigars, yes two cigars to the dismay of the cigar factory owner who said a few choice words in Spanish in disgust at our poor spending habits. His wife even wanted money for the coffee, even though it was vile. I am not tight, but I refuse to pay for something that looks like lukewarm piss and tastes shit.

We left the cigar factory and carried out to Vinnales with a pit stop at a scenic location which involved gentle persuasion by the taxi driver to eat at his mate’s restaurant. Note to self, Cuba is not known for its culinary delights. If you like rice and beans and fish, then it’s a gourmet paradise for you. If you like your food with a hint of flavour, then you’ll be very disappointed. The only western food I spotted was cheese and ham sandwiches on hard bread and undercooked pizza. One trick to learn whilst travelling in Cuba is to get some of your hard-earned cash changed into Cubano peso. That way you can buy an undercooked pizza from the local street stalls for a bargain price of 6 peso about 25p. For that price you can’t go wrong or complain and eat to your heart’s content.

Once at our Casa which was a dusty little room with satin sheets (what is the obsession with satin sheets?) we decided to go horse riding in the valley with the local cowboy. The valleys are breath taking and tranquil. Vinnales is so calm compared to Havana. We ventured to a little cave where we had to buy lights to enter the cave. We had to buy a light per person, even though we only needed one. The cave was very eerie and dark, but definitely worth a visit. Our cowboy showed us a few tricks on his horse and tried to teach us Salsa. But this girl has two left feet when it comes to Salsa and isn’t a fan of men who have rough hands, so the lesson was over very quickly. However, I did offer him some hand cream to smooth his hands.

We only spent one night in Vinnales and managed to arrange a shared taxi to Cienfuegos, the old port town the next day with a French couple.

Our taxi driver was late, but this is Cuba and people are never on time. We set of in a new car with seatbelts to Havana where we were going to swap cars. Once at Havana we were transported to a new car, well an old car with no seat belts and a new driver. The driver was a cracker and switched on his reggaton (Cuban hip hop) tracks and proceeded to tell me how he shaved all his body hair and didn’t need Viagra. It was more information than I needed to know and I felt like I knew him better than I needed to. I was also a little disturbed when he asked me to stroke his arm hair’s and lifted his top to show me his toned hair free torso. The guy was 50 and in good condition, but it was a little too much for a mid-afternoon drive along the highway.

On our journey to Cienfugos we broke down. This didn’t surprise me as the car was a shed, and as we had already paid the first driver we were stuck so had to stick with Mr smooth as satin. Our hairless Cuban driver decided to repair the car which only took him about an hour as we watched the cars and people go by. Not one person stopped to help us or see if we were well okay or needed some water given it was about 35 degrees and we had no shade. Finally after an hour we were on the road. Woohoo, we were meant to arrive in Cienfuegos at 1, but we arrived at 4. Note to self, nothing in Cuba happens on time.

Part two to come soon

Denied boarding at JFK….why? I complained about the Muslim food option…

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I counted down the days to my trip to South America. Each day, I ticked of another day and frantically checked the weather praying that it would be sunny and the rain would stop.

My journey to the Heathrow airport was dashed and hurried and I put it down to bad planning and poor time keeping. As I waited to board, I was told that I had randomly been picked for a security check. Lucky me. What had I done this to deserve this honour? I looked at the other two candidates a Jewish businessperson and a hippy with crazy hair and flip-flops. At least it looked like a fair selection and I was the only female Muslim on the plane, so I guess I had to be searched again. The security woman kindly asked me if I minded. If I said no, would she stop and not carry on with the search? No, she would not. So why ask me if I mind.

I ran into the American Airlines plane with little time to spare. As I made my way to my seat, I noticed how empty the plane was. Great I thought, as I was tired and looking to lie down. The air steward came round informing the passengers that the seats at the front were empty and that we could sit there. Given the choice of two or five seats to myself, I chose five and happily moved. Once I had comfortably sat down, I tried to inform the air flight attendant that I had moved seats so that she could serve me my Muslim meal, which I had ordered. I tried two to three times to inform the staff who dismissed me each time and told me they would deal with it later.

I sat down, stared at the pre-historic tiny screen in front of me, and desperately tried to find something to watch. I learnt that some movies I could not watch as the time has lapsed so I had to wait for the next showing. I also could not pause or forward the movie. This certainly was not what I expected from a leading airline, American Airlines and to one of the busiest airports in the world JFK.

During the flight, the airhostess handed out landing cards for the US. I did not have a pen so I could not fill in the form. I asked the airhostess if she had a pen, she replied back annoyed ‘no’. So I asked her, how I could fill it in with no pen, she told me to ask one of the passengers and again informed me she did not have a pen. I cheekily replied ‘great to see service with a smile hasn’t died’. She asked me what I said and I told her. She barked again, she did not have a pen and I said its fine. Later during the flight, she came back with a pen and I thanked her for it.

My first Muslim meal consisted of rice, chicken, and fruit for dessert. It was edible I guess, but certainly was not a gourmet meal. When asked if I would like a drink, I asked if they had fruit juice, I was told by the steward that fruit juice sounded like a great idea but they only had apple or orange juice. Surely, apple and orange juice was the same thing as a fruit juice. Maybe it was a language barrier and in the US it is referred to as something else. My second Muslim meal consisted of guess what ‘Chicken and rice’ again. Surely, Muslim people eat more than chicken and rice. I wasn’t too keen on the first meal and the thought of having to eat the same meal again made me feel sick. I kindly asked the flight attendant if they had an alternative meal or if I could have the veggie option. She told me, ‘no, we don’t have any spare and you will have to eat your own meal’. I told her that surely they should have one or two spares and that I didn’t want to eat the same food twice and I had connecting flight of 10 hours and didn’t fancy rice and chicken four times in one day. She told me ‘you can buy your own food on the plane and this is what we serve’. I told her I paid for a flight, which included food, handed her the food back, and carried on watching my movie. I didn’t hear from the flight attendant again.

Latter when I went to the toilet, one of the air flight attendant stood in my way for a little longer than needed. I heard her tell another steward that ‘I stood in her way as she is rude and I didn’t want to let her pass’ I asked the stewardess if she was talking about me. The other steward replied ‘no, of course not, she is talking about another passenger’. I ignored both and went back to my seat.

I landed at JFK with a three-hour wait for my connecting flight. I thought all was fine and had no idea the drama I would experience three hours later when I tried to board my flight.

I arrived at the gates and boarded the flight. Once on the flight I was informed that I had to go and speak to the manager and leave the aircraft. I was baffled and couldn’t understand why and the flight was due to take of shortly. What was going on?

Once I arrived at the managers desk she asked me what happened on my previous flight.  She informed me that the cabin crew had complained about me. I only encountered two members of the cabin crew, so surely this couldn’t be all the cabin crew. The manager asked me if I was violent or abusive towards the staff or I had thrown my food at the flight attendant. I told her I was an adult and not a child. Had I known my cheeky comment would have been taken as an abusive comment or that saying I didn’t like the food option wasn’t allowed I would have kept my mouth shut. I was told that I could not board the plane and I would have to catch the next flight to Rio. I was livid and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had spent seven and a half hours on a flight and just waited over three hours at the airport to be told that I couldn’t board. I told the woman I wanted my suitcase and she said it was waiting for me downstairs. Why make me wait three hours for a connecting flight knowing that I will be denied boarding? This was both unfair and ridiculous.

I was forced to catch the next flight to Rio, which was at 7:10pm the next day. This meant I lost a whole day in Rio and my hotel in Rio. I was told that I wouldn’t be entitled to any compensation for the loss incurred to me. Surely, if I were threat as the captain pointed out, then wouldn’t I be a threat on any flight I took. What could I do on a flight? I wasn’t a bloody terrorist for god’s sake….

In conclusion, I wouldn’t travel on America Airlines again even if it was free. I would avoid the airline if you are prone to speaking or making an opinion. It appears that freedom of speech when complaining isn’t allowed in a nation that prides itself on allowing people to speak freely. Take me back on a one way ticket to the UK, where you are allowed to speak freely and an incident like this would never take place. American Airlines, you will never be my number one choice for an airline and thank you for making my journey a nightmare and wasting my time and money.

 

Photo: NYC greatest tourist attraction Statue of Liberty #statueofliberty #nyc #america #newyork #tourist #touristsights

Planes, trains and automobiles…. Mini Europe trip….first stop Budapest….

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I love adventures, experiencing different cultures, trying different things and going off the beaten track while I travel. I have never been on a mini Europe trip so I spent hours planning routes and looking up destinations. Finally, after hours of endless searching on Google we settled on Budapest, Vienna, Bratislava, Berlin and Nice. Nice was thrown in for the heat and ‘glam factor’.

We decided to fly in “style”, so chose the wonderful no frills airline ‘Ryanair’, being on a tight budget we only had hand luggage. I stuffed all my travel essentials into my tiny suitcase and headed towards the boarding gate. At which point I was told that my suitcase was too big. Determined not to pay the outrageous hold luggage fee I squeezed all my belongings and decided to wear the rest, I looked like an Eskimo in three tops and a jumper. But, my luggage fitted in the slot and I was free to board the plane.

We touched down in Budapest on a humid Friday evening in late October and absorbed all the delights of the airport. It was so tiny you could never get lost. Being in a hurry we forgot to change money to Hungarian Fonts, luckily I had a few Euros left over from my Turkey trip. We made our way to the bus designed to take those on a budget to the city. As we hopped on the bus and drove into the city I was mesmerised by the sheer beauty of the city. I fell in love with the huge old style buildings and the river. Our hotel was a little out of the city, well a 15 minute tram journey away and the room was cosy to say the least. We were determined to explore the city and I was delighted to learn that the trams were 24 hour. When will they introduce 24 hour transport in London?

We walked along a huge bridge which reminded me of the Brooklyn Bridge in NYC, but obviously a lot shorter and less pretty. We walked from the Pest side to the Buda side and saw Gellart Hill, the chapel and the palace. I had no idea the city was split into two sections, trust us to spend our first night in the wrong side of town. We started of our Friday night journey in the posh side of town and were greeted by glamorous looking men and women. I was in heaven and more than happy to admire the well-dressed men as they sauntered past. Upon our adventures this night we walked up to the chapel, where we were informed that ‘sanctification’ was taking place in the morning and it was open to the public. I have no idea what sanctification involves, but the chapel looked very pretty. We carried on our journey and ended up outside a place called Moulin Rouge. I must be forgiven for thinking we might see a burlesque or cabaret show. Boy was I disappointed to discover that the clientele was largely the over 40s and it was a disco playing cheesy music. One Direction isn’t my music choice for a Friday evening. The night was young and we were determined to find somewhere cool to hang out and people watch.

Hunger got the better of my companion and we ended up in a Hungarian fast food joint in the student neighbourhood. The people of Hungary don’t seem to understand the concept of fresh food. Chips made at 4pm and reheated do not qualify as being fresh. I hate soggy chips and was glad I wasn’t hungry. The surly chap at the counter practically threw the chips at us and looked aghast when I asked for fresh chips. “They are fresh we made them today”.

Our night took us to an old man’s bar, where all the men were, well very old and in need of Zimmer frames, their pace makers hit a high when they spotted women under the age of 40. Not wanting to be desired by a granddad we decided to make a quick sharp exit out of the place. Our next stop was a hidden gem, an Iranian restaurant called Shriraz  which was still serving food after 1pm and had the best mint tea I have ever sampled. We sipped our tea and scanned the room and watched a ‘Godfather-Playboy’ old man surrounded by a bevy of scantily clad females. The man had game and the women were eating out his hands. He stood out a mile, dressed in a velvet jacket, snake print shoes and a moustache that you just wanted to twirl around in your fingers. We watched as the women got up and put on a belly dance show like no other. The women moved their bodies like a snake and I was in a trance. I never expected that I would have witnessed a belly dancing show in a Persian restaurant in Budapest and be in the company of the Iranian mafia. The night was still young and we joined the dancers in a shisha café in the centre of the town. Here we listened to Arabic music and watched the people dance to the beat of the music.

Day two

One of the must things to do in Budapest is to visit the Baths or Spas. We attempted to visit the spas and baths twice and both times we arrived too late and were politely told to go away. Note for future, always check the closing times. However, on our lonely road back to our hotel we stumbled across a murder film shoot for a Hungarian TV show which is ‘way’ cooler than a Spa. We gate-crashed the set and watched the excitement as bystanders. After half an hour of watching the same scene over and again we got itchy feet and decided to carry on with our adventure.

With swollen ankles from far too much walking and constant harassment to buy an IPhone 5, of the local Gypsies, we decided to look for a massage parlour. We spotted a Thai place and quickly negotiated a good deal, 15 minute massage for 1000 Font, about £3. My cousin took her position in the massage seat and we were treated to 15 minutes of ‘scream and shrieks’ of pain as the lady got to work. Our other companion got her back cracked for free. What a bargain and they even offered us free water and sweets.

Another must do thing in Budapest is to visit the Opera or theatre. In no other country can you watch the Opera for about £2. Okay we got standing tickets and were meant to stand for the four hour show, but, as soon as the guard turned her back we perched our bottoms on one of the spare seats. I am not a huge Opera fan and I can’t understand Hungarian so I was a little lost as to what on earth was going on. After about 40 minutes of struggling to follow the plot we decided to quietly leave and instead explored the Opera house and took loads of pictures.

Day three

Our journey out of Budapest was not a simple one. We made our way to the train station and struggled to buy our ticket. How hard can it be to buy a ticket? Apparently, it’s not an easy task in Budapest. We took a chance and boarded the train without a ticket. I was woken with a loud shout and jolt by the burly ticket officer who demanded to know where our tickets were. We were lost for words and searched our purses to see if we could scrape together the money for our tickets. Damn it, we were a few Euros short so had to get off at the next stop, a tiny place called Gyor. Modern technology was lost at the station and we had to wait over 15 minutes for the ticket lady to issue us an old school style ticket. I had not seen this style of ticket for about 10 years. We managed to walk around the pretty and scenic town of Gyor in about 30 minutes. Alas, our trip to Budapest was over and we were on our way to Vienna and Bratislava for some adventure.

Photo: Hungarian bargain beauty queen one euro pin up #one euro #euro #bargain #beautyqueen #budapestPhoto: Gypsy traveller on the train #train #journey #vienna #europe

Photo: GI Jane getting ready for battle #army #tank #GI Jane #battle #budapest