There are days when you float effortlessly into holiday mode, graceful as a swan on a still lake. And then there are days like this one—where you finish work at 18:00, attempt to pack with the efficiency of a frazzled squirrel, and convince yourself that four hours of sleep is practically a luxury spa treatment. Welcome to Day One of our Danube adventure!
The Great Packing Scramble
The clock struck six in the evening and instead of sipping a glass of something bubbly to celebrate the start of our holiday, we were up to our elbows in travel-sized toiletries, socks that mysteriously vanish, and the eternal question: Do we really need three chargers each?
Answer: yes. Always yes.
Despite having booked checked luggage, we both reached for our trusty Ted Baker carry-on cases—the ones that have earned more air miles than most domestic pigeons. They’ve survived cobblestones, baggage handlers, and that one incident in Maui we don’t talk about. Naturally, we couldn’t betray them now.
With Lewis at home, we had cleverly persuaded him into becoming head chef for the evening. He produced a full English fry-up with such enthusiasm that he nearly bankrupted the nation’s egg reserves. The plates were so full they resembled a structural engineering challenge rather than dinner. Still, we soldiered through—because wasting bacon is a sin.
Early to Bed, Early to… Oh Good Lord That’s Early
Bags packed (kind of), bellies full (definitely), and a quick call to Mum completed, we crawled into bed at 20:15. That’s not a typo. Twenty-fifteen. We are, officially, elite-level party animals.
When the alarm shrieked at 01:40, we were braced for the worst. But surprisingly, we’d both managed actual sleep—more than you’d expect when attempting to drift off knowing you’ll soon be waking up at a time usually reserved for bakers and vampires.
By 02:40 we were out the door and heading towards Warren and Dawn’s, as we’d been designated drivers for this particular escapade. The drive was smooth, and we rolled up at the Bray household at precisely 02:56. Boot open, bags in—no Jenga-style manoeuvring required this time, unlike the memorable Southampton incident of 2024, where stacking the suitcases was more tense than the final round of The Krypton Factor.
Liverpool Airport and the Curious Case of Michele vs Security
A quick dash down the M62 had us at Liverpool Airport by 03:50, leaving us plenty of time to breeze through security. Well—most of us breezed through. Michele, for reasons known only to the security gods, managed to set off every scanner within a 10-metre radius.
Belts off, shoes off, dignity off—she lit up that machine like a Christmas tree at the (#Ad) Budapest markets we’d later explore.
Once fully reassembled, we made a beeline for coffee… but not before Michele insisted on her ritual tour of Duty Free. Never mind that we weren’t actually buying anything—apparently it’s about the experience of touching unnecessarily expensive toiletries and pretending you might one day buy a £78 face mist.
Boarding our Ryanair flight was surprisingly painless, and we even took off just one minute behind schedule—practically a world record. Even better, we landed a stunning 30 minutes early. In fact, it was so early the pilot seemingly panicked and performed a full 180-degree turn on the runway so abrupt it felt like we were auditioning for Fast & Furious: Budapest Drift.
Brexit Delays and Riverboat Delights
Customs, however, was less efficient. Thanks to Brexit (cheers, Brexit voters), we spent a full hour shuffling forwards centimetre by centimetre, ageing perceptibly with each step.
But all was forgiven when we finally reached the Emerald Dawn and were allowed to check straight into our cabin—number 212, which we decided immediately was charming, cosy, and home. Bags were dropped, faces refreshed, and stomachs—yes, still somehow peckish—led us straight to lunch.
Budapest Bound – Christmas Markets & Cold Noses
With food in our bellies once again (don’t judge, it had been a long morning), we summoned an Uber and headed into Budapest (#Ad) for a leisurely afternoon wander. The city was bright and sunny, the air crisp, and the festive market stalls dotted around like twinkling little treasures.
We drifted through the stalls, sampling the atmosphere (and resisting the temptation to buy five types of Christmas ornaments we absolutely do not need). Budapest (#Ad) has a way of charming you immediately—it’s grand without trying too hard, sparkly without being gaudy, and just the right level of touristy to keep you entertained.
Six Miles and a Sky Garden
After logging nearly six miles on foot, Warren suggested we visit the Liz & Chain Rooftop Bar at the Marriott. It turned out to be an inspired choice—warm, comfortable, and with panoramic views that made the whole city look like a Christmas card come to life.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the cold began to bite, we decided we’d absorbed enough culture for one afternoon and called an Uber back to the riverboat.
Goulash, Cruising, and Cocktails
Tea time arrived, and in a show of team solidarity (or perhaps just collective hunger), all four of us opted for the Hungarian goulash. Rich, warming, and exactly the sort of meal you need before voluntarily standing on the top deck in sub-zero temperatures.
Bundled up like arctic explorers, we headed outside to watch the Danube glitter its way through the night. It was beautiful, atmospheric, and… absolutely bitter. After a few bravely endured minutes, we retreated to the bar, where mojitos and Old Fashioneds thawed us out from the inside.
Finally, Bed – A Well-Earned Collapse
By the time we reached our cabin, the exhaustion hit like a ton of bricks. We curled up, utterly knackered, but happy. Day One had been chaotic, chilly, and at times mildly ridiculous—but thoroughly brilliant.
And so ends the first chapter of our Danube adventure. If Day One was anything to go by, we’re in for a cracking week.
