It's 11:40am on Thursday as I type this. I haven't been to sleep yet. I am having a vanilla latte right now with skim milk which I was very excited about! (skim milk and flavored syrup are a rare find where I've been) I will do my best to write coherent sentences.
I got in my cabin in grungy Belgrade and to my dismay I only had one door lock. I was told by the cabin steward, " I must say you this. You must lock your door. Put your ladder in front of the door for extra protection. Put your head away from the door by the window so you can see the door. People will try to get in your room while you sleeping. Keep your passport and money on your body. I must say you." I was like, um, what about my lock? Can people still get in? Should I expect someone to come in? Holy crap what am I doing on a night train out of Serbia alone?!?
My weapons and I went undercover. Or rather, under the covers. I laid on my bed with my knife and my LED Defender flashlight in my hands. I made up my fake "throw down wallet" that I'd been advised to have in case I was robbed. I'm historically a quick draw on calling 911 at any perceived danger, so for someone like me this was very unsettling.
I signed up for a massage at 7am. The asylum workers made me put on the gargantuan one piece swimsuit and took me into my massage room. Before arriving I had visions of the Four Seasons spa in my head, not the Motel 6 spa. I lie down on the table in the bright light. No sheet covering me, no padding, and my Hungarian male masseuse pulls my swimsuit down to around my waist. As he rubbed my back it occurred to me that he may also plan to rub my front. This was all I could think about, then I began to giggle. I'm exhausted, in Hungary in a rented partially-on swimsuit on a table getting a rub down and growing certain that I'm about to get a massage to remember. It turned out I was partly right, I'll leave it at that. After the massage I got in the indoor thermal pools. Dozens of old geezers in speedos, and me. The men either had gigantic bellies, or looked emaciated. Trimming male nipple hair is not in common practice here. One man even wore whitie tighties and a shower cap. I hope that someday the mental images of what I saw this morning fade away.
I'm one hour away from getting into the hotel room - which means a shower and a nap. My cousin gets here from Dallas this afternoon and I'm so so so excited to see her! I'm sure she'll be very disappointed when I tell her what she missed out on this morning.