Boobytraps, Birthdays and Beagles
Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about Budapest.
On our last European adventure before returning to San Diego, Morgan and I visited the capital of Hungary. We came just before the spring festival and the anniversary of throwing off Hapsburg rule, March 15th, also my birthday**.
The Hungarian people we met were very friendly, frank, and a bit stouter than the Dutch. They also seemed pretty tough. Case in point - I’ve never concluded a wine tasting by taking a shot of moonshine, but here you get Palinka, a clear little cup of fire that only tastes like fruit “if you get lucky and burp up the flavor” (quote from our sommelier).
That’s not to say that the cuisine was anything less than fabulous. We enjoyed some tasty dinners of perfectly stewed beef and amazing goulash at some out of the way locations, but well worth the walk. Koleves, in the Jewish quarter on a quiet street (almost abandoned at night), is very cozy and welcoming once you step inside. What struck us, aside from the taste and portion sizes of our meals, was how affordable everything was. Perhaps it was all just on a relative basis (relative to bleeding money in Amsterdam), but Budapest is quite a deal.
Across the square from our hotel was the St. Stephen’s Basilica and inside was the mummified hand of St. Stephen (Szent Istvan) - is it sacreligious to say it looked like a little monkey hand? It was tiny. The crown was a normal size, so I’m guessing 1000 years just does not bode very well for human remains.
Budapest is such a mix of elaborate and beautiful decor, set in contrast to blocks and blocks of run-down buildings covered in a layer of dust, either from recent rebuilding or decay. You walk from one layer of history to another - from a soviet-era bus up to a castle built and rebuilt for the last 800 years. A gothic structure or an art nouveau facade could easily be an original or a total renovation.
In the spirit of that reinvention, artists and young people have been taking over abandoned buildings and creating “ruin pubs.” We wandered our way to Szimpla Kert on our first night in and were thoroughly impressed. If you lean towards artsy dives over glossy cocktail bars, then this is the place for you. Go here if you find yourself in Budapest (preferably on a Friday night).
After walking around all day exploring and then drinking wine and Palinka at night, the trip took its toll on our bodies (and livers). Nothing too harsh that a day at the Szechenyi Baths couldn’t repair. Don’t let the difficult pronunciation fool you, this place is a relaxing respite from the city grit that locals and tourists take part in. We spent an entire afternoon here and only left after our pruned-up fingers and toes told us it was time.
We tripped over pieces of rebar and uneven pavement as much as we stumbled over the Maygar language, but luckily we always ended up at an opulent cafe or met someone who spoke wonderful English and had loads of patience.
It is true, as it is often written, that Budapest is much like the Paris of Eastern Europe. A city that, after being reduced to rubble many times in its history, has had to continually rebuild and reinvent itself. Through Roman, Hun, Ottoman, Habsburg, Nazi and Soviet influence over its long and storied history, Budapest has developed a gorgeous grit in both its character and its outward appearance.
**as an odd side note, the only other two main Hungarian national holidays are August 20th, St. Steven’s Day (and also Morgan’s birthday), and October 23rd, Memorial Day for the 1956 Revolution (also my dad’s birthday).
Oh and were you wondering about the beagles? Well it must be the national dog because everyone here seemed to be walking one of those adorable pooches. Well done Hungary.
