I had not, in fact said to the Hungarian cabbie, ‘Shake off pursuit at all costs, we can’t risk a running gunfight through the streets of Budapest on our way to the early morning express’. He must have misheard me. Thus arriving very promptly indeed we boarded the Hungarian RailJet. A familiar zen-like calm surrounded us which UK rail passengers can only fantasise about. The dining car was staffed by modest yet friendly Hungarians and features a few national tweaks to the RailJet formula. I sampled an espresso lungo: more water than a double but well-judged and pleasingly short. Sancho had an effective flat white. I forked over a Euro tenner only to be kindly informed that this was Happy Hour. Everything in the dining car was 1/3 off so the coffees were now €6.53. According to the menu, this Happy Hour runs at different times on different trains, but for us it would last almost the entire trip, Budapest to Berlin. Flicking through the comestibles I decided to celebrate our luck with a cheesecake. This was at about the M&S mark but additionally featured artfully flaked almonds scattered about and drizzled honey. I do wonder what government we could possibly elect to get this at home. The train sped inexorably on to Berlin. Our finest journey and rail experience so far. I must also remark upon the presence and show photographic proof of a Dundee sandwich, consumed by a fellow passenger. I don’t know either.
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