March 17, 2025 Budapest Hungary
A day of wonders, preceded by the usual long night of flight, cramped like pretzels, (with pleasant seatmates) across half a planet in basic economy class, and a tiny, magical airplane inching across the screen in front of me, to encourage and tantalize … Ah , we’ve floated past Iceland! The channel beckons! Belgium! Germany! Now Frankfurt and a chance to unkink our paralyzed limbs! Don’t remember the food. Not a single wailing infant!
Once landed for a two hour layover, found myself surrounded (of course ) by countless smiling, courteous, German-speaking fellow human beings, who quickly discerning I was somewhat elderly and confused, quickly gave up their seats to me, addressed my bumbling concerns, helped me up and down steps, in a shuttle and out again (to Lufthansa Terminal), pointed me to oh-so-welcome Damen facilities (did I spell that right?) Well, not Herren!I gleefully showed off my amazing grasp of German, “Danke, Bitte, Ya, Nein, more Dankes”, pretty much my entire vocabulary.
One German woman, who turned out to be Jewish like me, instantly gave up her seat to me. Her tote bag bearing Hebraic lettering … it seems she’d just returned from Israel, and yes, her family had perished in the Holocaust, she confessed sotto voce. Imagine this exchange on a standing room-only bus as on a Manhattan subway at 5 PM! I’m smiling at the recollection. We parted with ‘Shalom’ as I stumbled off the bus, and yes, another German gentleman caught me before I could fall!
With help, arriving at Lufthansa’s enormous terminal, I found the wheelchair I was hoping for, sank gratefully into it at last. In the Wheel Chair waiting area I couldn’t help observing a family of 5, evidently Muslim by their dress and manner, a veiled querulous matriarch (plainly quite exhausted), women and a young man, gently caring for them, speaking in (Urdu? Farsi?)
The courteous German official asking after their needs in English found that they had barely 5 words of English between them, and sought in the most compassionate way to establish understanding. I was touched by his patience, and the painful bewilderment of this family, with their heavy, awkward bundles.
Once on the Lufthansa aircraft on our way to Budapest, I found myself seated next to two Hungarians. Interesting story here: One was German-speaking, but my greeting brought a smiling response in un-accented American English. This lanky 20ish young man, born in Hungary, was brought to Canada and raised there by his refugee parents, was now returning to his homeland — and yes, he loves Budapest as most do who visit it! He wants to reclaim his Hungarian heritage.
The other seat-mate was older (late 40s?), humorous and voluble and sad — he grieves and rages over what is happening in his country (Victor Orban) and in Ukraine, rising fascism in Europe, fears of fascism in the US. He realized what my own feelings were without a word being said.
These men’s stories were sobering and thought-provoking. They shook my hand as we prepared to disembark in Budapest.
But … back in the Frankfurt airport I encountered several couples who will be fellow shipmates on the cruise! Quickly found myself connecting in a very serendipitous way with a married couple in their early 70s who own and operate a cattle ranch in Montana east of where my daughter lives in Billings!
Both are sturdy, fit and youthful – the woman, a P.A., has also been active in delivering medical services in this sparsely populated rural area, in addition to helping birth Angus calves and baby horses alongside her warmly personable, soft-spoken cowboy husband.
We quickly found we had a lot in common. Though I’m not a rancher I’ve lived with my husband the Out-West life: Hunting wild game for food, raising horses, kids, grand-kids and our own vegetables, back-packing in the Wind River Mountains, loving our dry, cold, snowy, windy climate, cherishing cooperative relationships with neighbors a few blocks or a few miles away. No locked doors or cars.
They’ve raised college grads and nurses. So have we.
We met for dinner. We’re meeting for breakfast and walking this colorful “Old Buda” neighborhood together. And there’ll be two wonderful companions to catch me if I trip on ancient cobblestones or intervene if I rashly attempt to bring home a stray dog (or a lost person) to eat with us.
If you have just come to the journey at this point, please start the chronicle from the beginning to learn the rest of Lyndie’s fascinating story.
Lyndie sacrificed the experience of a previous journey on the Danube, for which she spent most of her life savings, to help a blind companion who had fallen ill. You can read more about this in Chapter 3.
Friends and strangers have raised nearly $3000 to help Lyndie (re)live her ruined dream of a trip to Eastern Europe. We are still working to restore her depleted savings. To learn more and (if you can) contribute any amount, please click here.
Lyndie's Journey 