Budapest delight (and a rude Scotsman)

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After lunch, my feet take control and I swap the deep delicious smells of roasted coffee beans for the smell of fresh air, heading out on a walk. Yesterday, I hit 230% on my pedometer, which is bloody amazing, must have been all that dancing! In this case walking around Budapest not only satisfies the daily dose of steps but it also provides ideal opportunity for sightseeing, for really feeling a part of the environment, more personal than any tourist bus or cocooned travel can be.

It opens the door to exploration. I often become completely lost, no maps, no phone, preferring to ask the locals. Each to their own of course, but for me, this is the only way to travel, and there is nothing like stopping a person when they are in a rush to work and asking for directions!

More often than only to witness the ‘why me’ annoyance gracing their features. Today, it turns out, I ask the wrong guy by mistake. He is a very grumpy Scotsman – bad choice! (This story appears in my novel ‘Lost and Found‘)

“Excuse me, I’m terribly sorry to trouble you but, please, can you advise me on the best route to Baja?”

“Piss off,” comes his insulting reply. His deep Scottish accent only making it sound more offensive. I don’t know if it is the long windedness of the question that annoys him or the fact it is meant to be an easy place to find but, I am not about to let that repost go!

“Surely, that wasn’t necessary? I only asked for directions. You must be Scottish right?”

“Who the f..k wants to know? F..k off.”

Before I can even think of a suitable reply he is gone, swept away with the rest of the morning rush hour.
I turn around raising my eyes to the sky and instantly see a large street sign; ‘Baja,’