Getting to Budapest: Don't ask me any questions about Zurich or its airport. It was raining and overcast when we arrived more than a half hour late; I saw nothing of the city or the countryside from my window on the aircraft.

Nearly all of the passengers from Boston were catching connecting flights, and the tardiness had put some severe time pressure on many of us. I located the large sign that listed departures and found the one for Budapest. I was surprised to see that it was not a Swiss flight. It was on an airline that I had never heard of, Helvetic Airways. The list of my flights that I had received from Viking identified the carrier as Swiss International Air Lines, but the flight number was the same. So, Helvetic must be associated with Swiss in some way.

Our plane landed at gate E24, which was the most distant from the train that port passengers to the other gates. We were supposed to land at 10:35, which would have given us plenty of time to make the 12:15 connection. However, it was nearly 11:30 when I finally got off of the first flight. So, I had to hustle. The thought popped into my head that Sue would really have hated this.

I wonder if we actually passed over Liechtenstein.

The Helvetic plane bound for Budapest was actually parked somewhere out on the tarmac. We walked to a bus that would take a standing-room-only group of us to the aircraft. It was drizzling, but only my hat and jacket got even a little wet.

The bus on which I rode contained many really big guys unaccompanied by women, including one fellow with bleached hair wearing a Superman costume. No kidding. Perhaps some sort of sporting event was occurring in Budapest during the upcoming weekend. I found my way to seat #14B with confidence that 14A, the seat purchased for Sue, would be empty.

Later a second bus brought another bunch of passengers. On this bus were the four ladies who had congregated near me in the waiting area in Boston and some more large guys. Seated diagonally across from me was a guy with red hair and a beard who must have been at least 6'8". He was really well built, too.

Almost no one on the plane wore a Covid mask.

The flight to Budapest took an hour and forty minutes. Neither food nor beverages were served. In fact, the seatbelt sign was never turned off, and the pilot announced almost immediately that everyone should stay in the assigned seats for the duration of the flight. Nevertheless, at one point someone in the back yelled out, "Superman, whoo-hoo!" The guy dressed as Superman dashed up about ten rows, flashed his cape, and then quickly returned to his seat.

The announcements were in German and English. I recorded all of them, but there was so much engine noise that they were difficult to understand. I hadn't really noticed this at the time.

A little later a big guy from the back came forward and conversed—in French—with the big red-headed guy for the last twenty minutes or so of the flight. Maybe they didn't understand the announcements, or maybe they didn't care.

After the plane landed we needed to walk a short distance to the gate at the airport in Budapest. It was just before 2:00 in the afternoon. The weather was dry, but quite cloudy. It was cool enough for a jacket. I had never been in the Budapest airport before, but we had visited the city fifteen years earlier on our Eastern Europe tour. Those experiences have been documented here and on subsequent pages.

I easily located my suitcase. It was one of the first to be delivered to the baggage claim area, it was bright blue, and it already had the red tag on it that Viking had mailed us.

In this photo the woman in the red jacket and the Chuck Taylors is helping some passengers.

I affixed to my jacket the red sticker that Viking had provided and walked through customs. None of the officials said a word to me, and so I proceeded to exit into the lobby. Almost the first thing that I saw was a group of people in red Viking polo shirts or jackets and Covid masks. I approached the lady with a clipboard who was wearing Converse All-Stars. She asked me for the name of my ship, and I answered, "Viking Vili."

It took her a while to find my name on her list. Then she said, "Oh, you're here from Zurich." After I assured her that Sue was not with me, she told me to stand next to a counter that belonged to some kind of tourist company.

This might have been our crew.

About ten minutes later the four ladies from Boston came into the lobby and approached the Viking representatives. They were directed to another area. So, I deduced that they were going on a different cruise. There seemed to be at least four groups. It didn't occur to me then, but some of them may have been for people who purchased pre-voyage extensions.

I stood by myself for at least fifteen minutes. Then an American couple[1] without masks (but with a lot of luggage) was directed to stand with me. The guy asked me what I was doing there. I told him that I was on the Viking Vili. He didn't respond directly, but he told his wife that he was headed to the men's room. After being gone at least ten minutes, he returned with a paper bag. He announced that it contained four cans of beer and two bottles of booze. A moment later the driver hired to take us to the ship arrived.

The drive to the ship: At a little before three we entered his black Mercedes SUV to begin the thirty-minute drive to the Viking Vili, which was docked near the Liberty Bridge on the Pest (east) side of the Danube River. The couple sat in the second row. My backpack, my camera, my recorder, and I shared the third row.

The driver spoke English pretty well. He tried to act as an ad hoc tour guide, and the guy with the booze asked him quite a few questions. I recorded most of these exchanges. I have not included any of them because it was difficult to understand what was being said due to both road noise and music that was coming from the front seat.

The Budapest airport looked better from the outside than the inside.

The view from the third seat.

The fellow began by asking the driver whether people in Hungary were worried about the invasion of Ukraine by Russia. At the time Hungary was one of the very few nations in the European Union that did not support Ukraine, which shares a long border with Hungary. In fact, the Hungarian leader, Viktor Orban, had been friendly with Vladimir Putin and critical of the West. Furthermore, Orban had just decisively won a big election.

The driver did not answer the question that was asked. Instead, he said that it was difficult for Hungarians to support a people that did not "love" them. Evidently Zelensky or another Ukrainian official had criticized Orban or something Hungarian. It was clear to me that the driver wanted to change the subject.

The passenger interjected that the Ukrainian language was "Russian-based". Of course, it would be just as correct to say that the Russian language evolved from the language of the Rurik dynasty, which had its capital in Kyiv. Hungarian is not even slightly like either one of them. The driver emphasized that it was a difficult language with forty-four letters (counting the diacritical markings).

Mickey D's were plentiful.

I noticed that the McDonald's restaurants in Pest were actively promoting on billboards something called Maestro Fox Félix. I am not sure what it contained, but in the photo at right that thing in the middle that looks like a potato patty is full of cheese.

As we passed some Soviet-era apartment buildings the other male passenger remarked to the driver that he had noted as he flew in that a lot of buildings in Pest looked the same. The driver agreed, but as we approached the center of the city, he tried to emphasize other buildings such as the university. The passenger noted that there appeared to be an astronomical observatory on the roof of one of the university's structures. The driver tried to construct an answer, but the language barrier interfered.

I snapped this shot through the window as we passed by the MVM Dome.

The first modern building that we encountered was the MVM Dome, identified by the driver as the "handball stadium". This baffled my fellow Americans, who had evidently never heard of the team sport called "handball" in the rest of the world. We were looking at the largest such venue in Europe.

Not too long after that we passed the football (soccer to you) stadium. I did not get a chance to take a photo of it. However, the gentleman expressed a lot of interest. He even wanted to know whether there might be a game that night. The driver stumbled verbally a little at such a question, but he eventually replied that he did not think that there would be one.

The casino that the driver pointed out a few minutes later also sparked the fellow's interest. He actually said that he planned to pay it a visit that evening. The ships on Viking river cruises, unlike almost all large cruise ships, did not have casinos. He may have been joking, but he did not sound like it. I had to wonder why this gentleman, who seemed very eager to do anything besides cruise through western Europe, booked passage on Viking Vili. Maybe it was his wife's idea. I never heard her say a word in the forty-five or so minutes that we were together.

Our ship was double-parked on the Danube beneath the Liberty Bridge. When the driver let us off, we left our luggage on the dock. We then had to walk across the reception area of Viking Tor to the adjoining Guest Services area of Viking Vili. I had previously experienced this kind of situation when we arrived at St. Petersburg for the Russian cruise in August of 2010 (as described here).

Half of my room was below the water level. The grey space was devoted to rooms for the crew. Passengers residing on the other decks would not consider venturing to this deck, but they might leave a bit of uneaten food or the dregs from a wine bottle on the staircase for us.

The people at the Guest Services desk on Vili still were expecting Sue to be with me. I had to wonder if they expected Tom, too. For the first time I was asked to produce the results of the PCR test that I had taken on Monday. I was also provided with a health questionnaire to fill out and a little tube with a conical end that was to be used for collection of saliva for the rapid Covid tests that were required on arrival.

The reception area and the restaurant area dominated the second deck. The "shop" was just a showcase along one wall.

A crew member, whose name I did not note, escorted me to room #100, which was the first door on the right after descending the stairs to the Main Deck. He brought with him two seemingly identical key cards for my stateroom. He showed me how to unlock the door by scanning the key card. After opening the door he placed one of the key cards in the slot just inside the door that activated the lights. It did not take him long to show me the rest of my room, which seemed considerably smaller than my recollection of the one on which Sue and I had spent twelve nights on the Sorkov. This one had one long counter on the forward wall. There was room on the left side of it for a small backless chair. That is where I set up my electronics.[2]

This is where the big spenders lived. I only went to the Lounge for events. The only time that I was on the Aquavit Terrace was the very last supper in Amsterdam.

Since my luggage had not yet been brought to my room, I busied myself with the rapid Covid-19 test. I had to spit four or five times in order to fill up the tube. When I went to complete the health form I realized that I had failed to bring a pen or any other kind of writing implement. Fortunately, I discovered a notepad and pen on the counter near the telephone and the charging unit for the QuietVoxes that were used for listening to the guides on excursions.

There were no walls on the sun deck. In fact, all the structures could be flattened if necessary. I only came up here a few times.

When I had finished the form I walked to the door, removed the card from the light slot, ascended the stairs, and turned in at the reception desk my health questionnaire and the saliva tube, which I had placed in a sealed envelope that indicated my name and room number.

I then returned to room #100, but I could not get the card to unlock the door. Because I had used such a device in dozens of hotel rooms and the Costco gas station, I was pretty confident that I was doing it correctly. I had to return to the desk and ask for assistance. The lady there made a new card for me, and walked back to the room with me. She tried the one that didn't work and then the one that she had just made. Bingo! She then put the other card in the slot for the lights and explained that it had not been programmed for my room. I guess that the fellow who had showed the room to me either forgot to explain this or considered it obvious.

This was my luxurious stateroom after the suitcase arrived and I had put away about half of the clothes. Four things that I never used were the ice bucket, the mini-fridge, the hair dryer, and the eighteen-inch long shoehorn.

The suitcase arrived shortly thereafter. I dutifully hung up my two pairs of non-jean trousers and all of my shirts. The black shoes I placed under the bed. The rest of my clothes I allocated to various drawers.

I then called Sue to tell her that I had arrived. This was a mistake. We talked for twelve minutes, and it cost $21.48. Sue was still talking about finding her passport and joining me upstream. I was just happy to have reached my home for the next two weeks safe and sound.

The Viking Daily was published and distributed daily. A copy of the one for May 6 was in the room along with two letters, from the ship's Hotel Manager, Martijn[3] Kamphuis. The Viking Daily provided a schedule for the evening's activities. At 6:00 a "Welcome Briefing" was to be held in the Lounge, which was on the third deck.

The briefing was also available on the TV, but I wanted to attend this event in person. I had just enough time to shower and shave and make myself reasonably presentable. This was frustrated by my discovery that I had neglected to bring a comb and fingernail clippers[4] on the trip. The immediate priority was to find a substitute for the former. I found nothing suitable in my shaving kit, which over the years had come to resemble Felix the Cat's remarkable bag. I made do with a wash cloth. At the age of 73 my hair was thin enough to render this approach close to adequate.

Incidentally, the shower was fine, even if it took me a little while to become used to the fact that one knob controlled the temperature, and the other controlled the pressure. On the other hand, the stopper in the sink did not work at all, but this malfunction did not prevent me from shaving or brushing my teeth. So, I did not complain.

When I was reasonably satisfied with the appearance of the person in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door I ascended the two flights of stairs and entered the lounge just as the presentation was beginning. I surreptitiously turned on my recorder.

The master of ceremonies was Gary Nicholson, the Program Director, who was British. His job was to coordinate the excursions and onboard activities. He was not a very good speaker, and he had the very annoying habit of laughing at his own jokes, which were usually not very funny.

Martijn towered over everyone.

Gary introduced the very tall Dutch Hotel Manager, who provided the correct pronunciation of his name:
Martijn then explained Viking's Covid-19 protocol. He said that on one cruise the passengers were a little lax about wearing masks. He then claimed that they "lost" fifty of them. I am pretty sure he meant that they were forced to leave the ship prematurely. He noted that on Vili's last cruise there was only one positive test. He then made clear that a mask was not required when eating or drinking, and he emphasized that social distancing and hand-washing should also be enforced.

Viking's protocol at the time also required that passengers wear masks when off the ship, whether they were on an excursion or on their own. Martijn did not, however even mention this fact. Maybe he considered it to be Gary's responsibility.

Martijn then emphasized the importance of returning to the ship before the designated departure time. He claimed that the captain always departed on time regardless of how many passengers were aboard.[5] The Internet usage was limited to one device per person. It was a cashless cruise. No cash would change hand until the end of the cruise. Martijn said that there was only one seating for all meals. Actually, there was one starting time that was published in the Bulletin, but it was usually possible to come much later. There was open seating.

The walking track on the sun deck closed at 9PM. Two tables with chairs on that deck were provided for smokers.

Gary always added "Rhine" to the name of the canal.

Gary then took back the microphone and provided a description of the tours for the following day. Excursion tickets for the next day would be delivered to the cabins each evening. The tickets included the group number. Passengers must scan their key cards scanned whenever they left the vessel. The cards were also scanned upon return. A "leisurely" group for slow walkers would be available on many excursions.

The Chain Bridge was under repair. Some Viking ships would ordinarily be docked there. Most places in Budapest would accept euros or plastic. An international bike race was scheduled to start on Saturday. The morning tour would end at the Market Square about noon. He then described the other optional tours. He did not mention anything about wearing masks on excursions, but he did say that only 127 passengers were on the Vili, which had a capacity of 190 people. He concluded by totally butchering the names of the rivers and the canal.

The view of the Liberty Bridge and Buda from the window in my stateroom.

We then adjourned for the first supper in the ship's restaurant. I found the whole setup to be quite intimidating. All of the tables had seating for at least six. Almost everyone was in couples. I ended up sitting by myself.

I ordered the regional special, which featured Hungarian dishes. The appetizer was a selection of cold meats—ham, salami, and pepperoni—and some cheese. The main course was chicken paprikash, which I expected to be much spicier than it actually was. I had a glass of white wine and dessert, too. I did not record specifics. I enjoyed everything well enough.

After supper I tried to download the ticket for the Parliament tour to my cellphone. I could not do it. I went to sleep and woke up at about 1:30. I was then able to download the ticket with no difficulty at all. I finished off the first day with an email to Sue.