So tonight’s plan is dinner in Rezkakas, then A38. But this is me, it’s never going to be normal is it?
To start with, there’s Paul. As in, Di Resta. Yes, he’s staying at the same hotel! So whilst I wondered why the paps and fans were suddenly everywhere, no I hadn’t been recognised, Paul had. Unfortunately, not by me though (had to be pointed out to me). So I’m not used to seeing him without his race suit am I?! He scrubs up ok though and is taller than you’d think.
Anyway, the girls go swarming off behind Paul, who is clearly just out to see a bit of Pest. But he obliges and signs a few autographs, good lad.
Next is dinner. A lovely authentic Hungarian restaurant complete with live music – a tightly rehearsed three piece – double bass, violin and a something else. No idea what it’s called, but imagine a very baby grand piano, with no keys, no lid and chappie’s using padded hammers to play the strings. It sounds like a quiet piano and together with the strings, makes a lovely ensemble.
The food is delicious and the wine, Hungarian of course, suitably quaffable. All very civilised but A38 is calling…
Legal drunk driving – F1 style
This has to be the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages! 10 guys sitting round a bar. Ok, but the bar is on wheels. And each of their attached barstools is equipped with bicycle pedals. Yes, it’s a certain F1 pit crew on a night out! They’re in cracking spirits and clearly having a riot, doing a good 2 mph, with their 10 break man power, and free flowing fuel of the alcoholic variety! God help their drivers in the race tomorrow…
The best nightclub in the world
A38 is a club on a boat, a Ukrainian military boat, and according to Lonely Planet, it’s the best club in the world. Personally, I’m worried. Not because I’ve almost been run down by a pit crew drunk in charge of a decacycle (?), or been to the loo beneath a glass bottomed pond (yes really, Aquarium), but last time I was in a club on a boat was Tuxedo Royale in Newcastle (and I fell of the revolving dancefloor too many times to remember).
Onboard are Anna & Orsi (resident Hungarian friends), Mr Petronas @ Mr Mobil (our fuel & lubes boys), Papa Pirelli and Junior (the rubber guys), Tom & Kevin (ex paddock boys who have come for race weekend) and yours truly. A concoctive mix which will undoubtedly end with a hangover.
From here, we head further down the river to another of Budapest’s infamous ‘ruin clubs’. I’m still not convinced the term refers to the surroundings in which these open air clubs are built, as opposed to the state in which most people leave? But it’s great; outdoors, so fresh air, no sticky floors etc, exciting acoustics reverberating off the stone floors and walls, and a lighting rig just waiting to give Pink Floyd a run for their money. There’s also a big stage but tonight is a DJ rather than a band, so the stage just accommodates dancers.
At some point, someone decides Southern Comfort is the drink of choice (why, or whom, who knows) but having had G&T to kick off, wine at dinner, beer on the boat and now onto spirits, the fun and games are free flowing!
Being out with the boys is usually entertaining, but when Junior Pirelli disappears, we wonder… until he’s spotted having a dance-off with a ballerina – I kid you not. Our rubber boy can bust a groove, but is clearly outclassed and eventually admits defeat, much to the entertainment of the now huge crowd of us clapping and cheering.
As they applaud each other it’s like the end of the water painting scene in Mary Poppins; the heavens suddenly open and everyone runs for cover… by the bar… Who’s round is it?
We finally hail cabs, about 4am I think? As some of them have something important to do tomorrow, although none of us can quite remember what?
I’m loving Budapest by night!
ttfn hic /Rxx