***flashback series*** - budapest breakdown
So there I was, tootling down a bumpy Budapest road on my way into the city to perform some tourist juties when the hog's roar dropped to an idle. My first dead throttle cable! how exciting! I rolled to a stop and cursed a little. Luckily I had a spare cable - but after a couple of SMS's to Joern back in Germany I was a little more worried. I had to find a way of terminating the carburettor end of the cable with something, damm! I surveyed the area and ended up locking the scoot behind a shop owner's hedge and then hit the street in search of parts.

If anyone wants to know a little more about the streets of Budapest, check out this article from the Budapest blurb, Pestiside: http://www.pestiside.hu/archives/king_of_tabs_crowns_king_of_pothotles002052.php#more

Cut to a day later, walking through the Pest side of Budapest, scanning shopping centres, circulating train stations, jumping from overcrowded bus to bus, yearning for a shop that might hold a tiny tube of brass to clamp around the end of a new throttle cable so that I can continue my journey towards Croatia. I argued with a chap in a large suburban bicycle shop that he must have some sort of terminating clamp for the end of the various bike cables that he sold. He eventually caved in and found some brass tubing - and after waving some forints in his face he was out the back with a hacksaw cutting some small sections for me. These pieces turned out to be no good as I didnt have the correct crimping tool (so they broke) and they also needed to be soldered (didnt carry a soldering iron in my toolkit).

Cut to the next day. I walked back into a small downstairs hardware fixings shop, still mortified from the previous day's claim that they didnt have a little nut and bolt with a hole through the bolt. I walked up to the chap and motioned for a pen and paper - he knew the drill from yesterday. I proceeded to draw the best damm bolt with a hole through it diagram that ever was - even better than the previous days effort. He smiled, pointed to the sky with realisation, walked over to a set of drawers, and pulled a couple out. He was my saviour. At this point I recieved a message from Sean, my Budapest night time tour guide, and alcoholic advisor. He too had been helping out on my scooter fixing goals, and his SMS read something like this.

'Try the place at 168 vaci ut. Blue line metro to gyongyosi u. Station in direction of ujpest. Then walk back towards centre of town about 600m. It's on the right in a big courtyard complex of stores... Mechanic is way at the back in standalone grey shed, junked scooter by door.'

If only I knew what he was talking about.