La lastaj (aŭ finaj!) horoj…
Hmmm, how to describe the internacia vespero?! Some of it was exceptionally good and some of it was exceptionally bad. There were some incredibly talented singers, some stunning belly-dancing, and a few jokes which were genuinely funny. It was quite cool to see the Esperanto song Ska-virino performed in sign language too. But some of the acts were either out of tune, or simply went on for too long. I think as a general rule, people should only be allowed to sing one song, as opposed to three in a row, and there should be a limit placed on the length of sketches and the like. That way, it would be easier to enjoy the stuff which was genuinely excellent, and the stuff which wasn’t so much to your own personal taste would be mercifully shorter. Through no one’s fault, the temperature in the theatre building was incredibly hot and the whole atmosphere was so oppressive that once or twice I felt like I was going to pass out. It was a shame, because I probably didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have done, and I could hardly wait for the group photo to be over at the end so that I could run outside for some fresh air.
Babel and I were actually pretty much out of forints, and whilst I did have quite a few euros for emergencies, we’d left it too late to find a bank to change them. It was now already about midnight, and our train was leaving Szombathely at 6.48am, but nevertheless we trotted off to the town centre in search of a bank with a cash point. We found one after a brief search, and after a failed attempt to withdraw money on my debit card, I ultimately managed to obtain 5000 forints on my credit card. A transaction for which my bank has kindly charged me in excess of £3 
Our financial situation resolved, we retired to the trinkejo for one last time. It turned out they were trying to get rid of the stock, and so I was able to pick up glasses of wine for as little as 100 HUF 
I was soon quite happily drunk, and the dwindling hours until our train left began to seem more and more irrelevant with every mouthful. Knowing that we had to get up at 6am, we really hadn’t intended to stay up until 4, but somehow it happened 
By the time we said our goodbyes and according to Babel did a couple of things of which I have no recollection, it was gone half four….
One and a half hours later, the alarm sounded. Luckily Babel heard it – I was still drunk and left to my own devices would probably have ignored it. Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out of bed, throw our remaining possessions into the cases and make a dash for the station. My dashing was somewhat hampered by the fact that I was incapable of walking in a straight line, and it was now that all my months of route planning really paid off. If we hadn’t known the time of the train and had the tickets pre-bought, we would totally have missed the plane. As it was, we got on the train by the skin of our teeth, and once the Hungarian ticket inspector had come round to inspect my ticket, I allowed myself to drift off into a deep and peaceful sleep…
About an hour later, I was rudely awakened by my boyfriend saying in an irritated tone, “FFS, wake up!”. Blinking in a confused manner, I gradually dragged myself to my senses and realised that there was another ticket inspection, this time on the Austrian side of the border. Babel isn’t old enough to be allowed to look after his own train ticket, and he didn’t know whereabouts in my bag I was keeping them, hence the confusion. After that, I just about managed to stay awake and before half nine, we found ourselves arriving in Vienna.
The bus to Bratislava actually didn’t leave until 11, so we had a fair bit of time to kill. Feeling in need of a severe caffeine injection, we headed to a café in the train station and after downing an Espresso, I began to feel a lot more human. We sat talking for a while… actually I really enjoyed it, we had a lovely chat which merged into a very lovely chat indeed on the bus, and by the time we got to the airport I was feeling exceptionally happy :)
Eating opportunities in Bratislava airport are a little limited, but we managed to get hold of some sandwiches, and with the remains of our Hungarian jaffa cakes to enjoy we didn’t go hungry. The flight home was delayed for half an hour, but other than that everything went fine and all too soon we were landing in a dull and chilly Birmingham. The holiday mood lasted for a brief few hours, and then the horror of reality kicked back in…
Nah, that’s overly negative, because I had an absolutely amazing week and it’s definitely one of the most relaxed and least stressful holidays I’ve ever had. I almost felt like a different person whilst I was there – I was miles more confident than I thought I could be, I was wearing clothes which I wouldn’t dare to wear in England in front of my parents, and even ended up doing my hair in a different way. It was refreshing to be in an environment where there was no judgement being passed on me, where I didn’t constantly have to explain myself. It was almost like being normal for a week. There were low points, yes – but on the whole, I’m very glad I went and I think I gained a lot from it. This week at work I feel like I’ve been more confident dealing with people, both in real life and on the phone, and coped better when things have gone wrong. I did have a bit of an insecurity wobble mid-week, but I’d like to think that was more a result of the other things which have been going on since I got home. I won’t be telling my mother that I own a bikini/a pair of shorts, or that I’ve been drinking red wine or whatever, but I have kept my hair in the new style, telling her that Tim helped me do it like that to stop my scalp getting sunburned without my hat. She actually didn’t say anything negative about it, and it’s kinda growing on me, so I might wear it like that for a bit. I’m glad that I went anyways, and although, on reflection, most of what I’ve written doesn’t seem to bear much relation to Esperanto, it was a good opportunity to practise and I did learn a lot
Tags: Esperanto, IJK, Szombathely