The riot police are getting bigger and more Robocop-like the further into the old Eastern Block we go. The lads lounging over their riot shields in Athens were a snack compared to the massive rigs bristling about on the streets of Budapest tonight. The dudes here are sporting exoskeletons and, according to the guy who works at our hostel; “don’t fuck about”.
My colleague over at The Roast Dinner Letters will go into a bit more detail as soon as I stop Bogarting the laptop but we’ve ended up in the Hungarian capital on the 52nd anniversary of the anti-soviet uprising that saw the locals briefly snatch autonomy from the Stalinists. Self rule lasted about a week and didn’t return until 1991. According to the girl in the hostel a lot of Hungarians like to celebrate their national holidays by attending political demonstrations. I can’t see it catching on back home unless Kevin Rudd makes a move to crack down on BBQs, party ice and drive through liquor stores. Actually, from what I’ve picked up in the papers, he’s probably only a two point drop in the polls away from doing something drastic like fazing out cans of Woodstock Bourbon and UDLs in a smoke and mirrors attempt to divert the public from the failing economy, so we’re half a chance of seeing a widespread bogan uprising coinciding with the next Bathurst 1000.
Our hostel is surrounded by protest hot spots like the Hungarian Parliament House, Liberty Square, the former headquarters of the secret police and a bunch of other generous and leafy spots tailor made for rabble rousing and soapboxing. The streets around us are practically festooned with heavily armed and well armoured police and large sections of the city have been cordoned off with barricades in what we think is probably an attempt to keep rival factions separated. We went out last night drinking in the bars and clubs around the Opera House. This afternoon most were shut. The owner of our billet rates the chances of the police deploying teargas at some point during the night at about 70%. It might be a good evening to grab a quiet dinner in the restaurant around the corner before heading back to the hostel for a cup of tea and a DVD.
I’m looking forward to reading the papers tomorrow.
That is all,
Dale Atkinson
Ps. Just because I like you, there are two fresh blogs below this one.
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