The Goulash Incident

Travel

Marsha, my girlfriend, and I had been traveling around some of the former communist bloc nations of Eastern Europe. For the most part we were having a great time of it too. Ironically, a bout of explosive diarrhea changed our course for the better.

Several days earlier, in Sofia, Bulgaria, I had purchased a mobile phone and the associated sim card to go with it. I’m a bit of a technophile. I really like my gadgets and this trip had mostly been devoid of said gadgets so I purchased this phone in order to get my fix. Now, in my mind a mobile phone is a handy thing to have. Useful for many things, placing and receiving phone calls among them. As tech savvy as I am, navigating phone menus in the Cyrillic alphabet proved a daunting task, but a few days of messing with the phone and I could press the right combination of buttons to get it to do what I needed. They say that opposites attract, and in the case of Marsha and I and my love of gadgets I’d have to say that “they” are right. She is completely disinterested and really couldn’t care less about gadgets, despite the obvious convenience factor that goes along with many of them. What does a Bulgarian mobile phone have to do with explosive diarrhea? All will be revealed in due course.

Our travels took us through Budapest, Hungary; which Marsha found to be an absolute delight. She really liked the grit factor exhibited by this ancient city. I was content there. I found some of the architecture to be stunning; and I fell in love with a bar located around the corner from our hostel. But the connection between Budapest and how explosive diarrhea changed the course of our travel comes in the form of a shopping bag from a super swanky mall. If you’re familiar with the Mammut brand of outdoor clothing and gear, then you’d recognize the logos on this huge mall in Budapest. Situated in a crumbling neighborhood is the Mammut mall. It’s super slick and ultra modern. What took us to this particular mall was my pants. The one pair of pants that I had was starting to, in fact had completely, split in the crotch area and needed replacing. I was after a particular brand of pants, and had found that this mall had them – so to the mall we went. We had a great time there, even catching a new release American movie – in English (with Hungarian subtitles). Me with my fancy new pants in aforementioned store branded bag and Marsha with a movie fix, we departed the mall and very shortly thereafter, Budapest. We were due to take the overnight train from Budapest to Prague. We had quite a bit of time to kill between checking out of our hostel and departing the city, and one of my favorite ways to pass time is drinking; what goes better with drinking than eating you might ask? Nothing! Would be my reply. So to my new favorite little bar we went, where I ate plate after plate of Hungarian goulash and drank beer for several hours. When the time came to catch the bus to the train station I found it most difficult to get up. I was a bit inebriated, but my biggest problem was that I was full. Painfully so. The over abundance of Hungarian ambrosia and premium pilsner exerted such force on my diaphragm that I found breathing difficult. Nonetheless, I was able to waddle the 12 blocks to the bus stop, purchase a bus ticket and board the bus.

In my inebriated state I had a bit of difficulty with the validation of my bus ticket. It seems I didn’t get it in the machine perfectly straight and the validation stamp was a bit crooked as a result. Also in my inebriated state, I was unable to recognize a scam – the scammers were able to recognize an impaired man, however. A team of three ne’er do wells posing as fare enforcement or ticket compliance, or whatever the term is for people who check bus tickets challenged the validity of my bus ticket. Things aren’t exactly crystal clear to me but I remember quite a bit of shouting and pushing and when the bus came to a stop they physically removed me from the bus. It all happened so fast that Marsha didn’t have time to gather our luggage and get off the bus before it left. We were separated. My assailants shook me down for what amounted to about $7USD before scurrying off to find their next victim and all was pretty well as I knew that Marsha was headed for the train station. This did set up the next essential piece of this travel story though, as I figured we both should have a mobile phone in case of another separation. At the train station, I got a fancy new phone and gave the Bulgarian one to Marsha.

As we boarded the train for Prague my heart rate went back down but I took notice of my overstuffed belly again. It was getting more uncomfortable. I was starting to feel the pangs of huge gas bubbles building. Fortunately, however, the beer had an affect as well and the combination of the rocking of the train and the alcohol put me to sleep in short order.

When the conductor knocked on our door to announce our approach to Prague, I made haste in getting up. My stomach was in an extremely tumultuous state gurgling and rumbling. I felt a great deal of discomfort in my intestines and knew that I needed to find a bathroom quick! The closer I got to the bathroom, the greater my desperation grew. I was driven by pure instinct and a desire to keep from becoming a total mess. Each step brought more pressure and a greater need to relieve it. It was becoming nearly impossible to hold back. I clenched my cheeks tighter and tighter as I walked, eventually looking quite comical to anyone who might have taken notice as I tried to run with my knees locked together. As I entered the bathroom, I knew that taking the time to close the door behind me would be a fatal flaw. I had only enough time to pull my pants down and sit on the toilet. As it turns out, I didn’t have quite enough time even for that, but the damage was minimal. Relief and then pain came and went in waves. The cramping in my stomach was horrendous but it ebbed before welling up again. This cycle repeated several times.

As the train pulled into the station I began to believe that it was over. I knew that I had precious little time to clean up a bit, gather my belongings and disembark the train. I used a sock and some water from the sink to clean up as best I could. I carried the sock and soiled underwear back to our berth on the train. Once inside, I got some clean underwear and put on my new pants. The soiled underwear, sock and old pants were deposited in the Mammut mall shopping bag – with the intention of laundering them later.

The conductor was quite adamant that we get off the train. He made it abundantly clear that the train was leaving and we needed to get off most ricky tick. I made my best effort at gathering my items and we got off.

Once on the platform we tried to gather our bearings. We needed to figure out what was next, and I needed to get my things back in my backpack. My stomach, however, would have nothing of making new plans. It had its own unfinished business to take up with me. I made a quick visual surveillance pass of our surroundings and failed to find anything resembling a water closet. I was panic stricken. How humiliating it would be to soil myself right here out in the open, in a strange land where I didn’t even, as yet, have a motel room or any place to go. I was mortified. Two platforms over was a train. If I hurried, I could make it. Get some relief and get off, hopefully, before it left. I made eye contact with Marsha. Gave her a look that I hope conveyed that I had to go. Then I bolted for the train. The first bathroom I came to was locked, either occupied or out of order. I went to the other end of the car. Success! It was open. I stepped in, closed the door, dropped my pants and just as I turned to sit down, it happened. The train started moving! I was in no position to get off. For better or worse, I was going for a train ride. Might as well make the best of it. I spent what must have been 15 minutes in a mix of agony and ecstasy as my stomach churned, cramped and was relieved. I forgot for a moment or more where I was. It was just me and my cursed bodily functions. I allowed ample time for my bowels to empty before I left the security of the train bathroom. I figured I’d get off at the next stop and catch the next train back to Prague – but I had no wallet, no money, it was in my bag, as was my passport and pretty much everything except a mobile phone. As I stood in the corridor, the conductor, doing his rounds, took notice of me. He approached and made demands in Czech, I presume, that I simply didn’t understand. I tried, in my best pseudo-German accent to explain to him the horror of my bout of explosive diarrhea, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He took me into custody and we passed several stops. At a stop that was apparently big enough to have some semblance of authority present, he took me off the train and turned me over to local authorities. An hour or more had passed since I left Prague, and I could only imagine what was going through Marsha’s mind. She’s a tough girl and great travel partner, but saddled with my luggage in addition to her own, she was probably pretty much a prisoner to the situation.

I was taken off the train at a stop called Kutna Hora. One of the policemen there understood English well enough for me to get the point across about my recent affliction. As he relayed my story to his comrades, they all had a big laugh at my expense. They suggested I try to call Marsha and helped me out with the convoluted dialing scheme. I dialed three or four times before anyone finally answered. Turns out she was on the other end trying to figure out what “answer” is in Bulgarian. She finally found an elderly man who was able to help her answer the phone. I gave her a summary of where I was, and the trouble that I was in. Her new friend helped her buy a ticket and helped her get our luggage on the appropriate train. When she offered him some money, he shook his head and motioned to the shiny “Mammut mall” bag. She tried to explain what was in the bag, but eventually gave in to his insistence and handed it over to him as her train pulled away.

I was overjoyed to be reunited with Marsha at the Kutna Hora police station. I paid my fine (roughly $15 USD) and we were soon on our way to an attraction that the police recommended. The Sedlec Ossuary, better known as the Bone Church. It is really one of the more amazing things I have ever seen. Destination report coming soon!

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Many travel deals include a part of the journey in bus travel. Most of the travel agents comment on the bad flight performance to such an extent that the travelers get scared and favour travel trailers instead.

Will @ May 28, 2008