It’s an easy train ride from beautiful Lake Balaton to Budapest and I keep my Covid-coughing to a minimum with the aid of cough drops and Sudafed.
I notice there’s a more relaxed attitude in Hungary to the maintenance of rural roads than the just-paved-last-week hyper-maintenance of Slovenia. And we pass thousands of acres of sunflowers. Their once-bright yellow mid-summer faces are now hanging heavy with seed and awaiting the harvest.
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We get settled into our next hotel for a few more days of isolation and my symptoms slowly abate. Carolyn had her Covid episode about a year ago after getting both her vaccinations, and we got our boosters after that. So we felt as well prepared as possible for this trip. But now it was Mother Nature’s turn to serve me with a ’natural vaccination.’ It was unpleasant, but not much worse than flu attacks in years past. So overall, I’m very glad the vaxxing has worked well for us both, and we are ready to go.
But then we get a notice that our river cruise has been cancelled due to low water levels in the lower Danube!
At this point, after our all-night semi-sleepless marathon passage to Lake Balaton, my positive test for Covid, and now the river cruise cancellation (Three strikes and we’re out?) our trip to Hungary appears to be somewhat star-crossed. Yet we were even a bit relieved because we really needed more time to explore the many treasures, large and small, of Budapest.
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So Carolyn looked online for an interesting alternative to the river cruise, like maybe an overland bus tour to Bucharest. We normally just wing it and make our own way around, but she finds a tour by Intrepid Travel (https://www.intrepidtravel.com/eu) that includes home-stays and other interesting stops – and it’s a whole lot cheaper than that deluxe river cruise we’d planned. Plus it departs eleven days later, and the extra days will be well invested in exploring the many complexities of Budapest.
(We notice while walking the banks of the Danube that the river is low but there are boats still moving. Soon, however, there’s a story online that the low water levels downstream have exposed a few dozen WWII vessels loaded with explosives that were scuttled by the Nazis at the Serbia-Romania border to block the river from the advancing Red Army, and we figure that might be a good enough reason that our river cruise was cancelled.)
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We check out the Metro system and are confronted by the complex names of many stations that we struggle to pronounce. I hand the two fresh tickets we just bought to a nice lady, who looks pleasantly surprised, and we leave the underground station. It’s clear we need to come back better prepared for an adventure on the Budapest Metro. We spend the next few days in the fresh air walking to sites of interest near our hotel, and return to the Metro to do a ‘test run’ involving a couple of transfers to the Batthyány ter station where we’ll need to get tickets soon for a side trip to Szentendre, an artistic town just up the river.
We’ve navigated various Metro systems before, including the one in St Petersburg, Russia – and that was in Cyrillic! So this time it goes as well as any new Metro system anywhere else, even with the language issues involved. We’re very impressed with the smooth ride on the M3 ‘Blue Line,’ and the cleanliness of the whole system. And a ride on the charming M1 ‘Yellow Line’ – the city’s oldest and the first underground in continental Europe, inaugurated in 1896 for the Magyar’s 1000th anniversary by Emperor Franz Joseph – is a treat for retro-metro fans. The heavy riveted steel supports and the ‘subway tile’ walls remind us of the old #11, in Buenos Aires.
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So we now have 11 extra days try to get a handle on the complexities of Magyar culture, sitting as it does in the heart of Central Europe and astride the mighty Danube. It’s called the Duna here and the Donau in German, and it’s one of the great pathways to conquest from the east. The fact that they speak a unique language here that’s only distantly related to Finnish and Estonian may have helped to isolate them from the mostly Slavic countries at their borders. And we find there are very few cognates – words that are similar enough to a Romance language or other root we may know – to help us navigate the place. A restaurant is an ‘etterrem,’ like an eatery. Coffee is ‘kávé,’ and that’s kind of close. ‘Utca,’ meaning ‘street,’ is similar to ‘ulitsa’ in Russian. But ‘egyetem’ means university. And a store is a ‘bolt.’ So if we need to buy a bolt do we bolt off to a ‘Bolt Bolt?’
Many signs are untranslated into English so it remains a constant challenge until you can spend enough time here to assimilate it. But it’s said that even Franz Liszt (aka: Liszt Ferenc) one of their most honored composers whose mother was Hungarian, never really mastered the language. And their self-confident lack of any compelling need to translate most things for travelers can be attributed to…well, not their commanding military triumphs, because they seem to have lost many wars. But maybe to their perseverance, that they’re still here in spite of all that; to the fact that: “We’re Hungarian, and you’re not!”
The Cartographia map of Europe I just bought shows the country’s name as Magyar Orszag, or Hungarian State. Ever since the conquering Magyars moved into this valley more than a millennium ago from the Ural mountains, it’s been re-invaded by Mongols, Huns, Turks, ragtag Crusader armies and others. And laid waste by many of them. In fact, Budapest was largely destroyed most recently during World War II. And yet today it’s again a vibrant and appealing city filled with Old World charm, and plenty of old buildings to match. In fact, there are tons of interesting buildings here that go unremarked but would be important landmarks in most US cities.
Its measure of economic equity, according to Wikipedia, puts it among the top countries in the world for equality, rated at 13th lowest for income inequality. And one hopes that may be a unifying factor.
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Saturday is rainy, so it seems like a fine day to spend inside the National Museum of Fine Arts visiting the big Matisse exhibit we’ve seen advertised. We take the antique M1 Yellow Line to its original terminus at City Park and emerge to join a very long line of people waiting in the rain to enter. It turns out we’ve managed to pick a major public holiday – St. Stephen’s Day – when admission is free to all. While it’s very heartening to see there’s so much public interest in art, we’d hoped it would be less crowded. As we reach the top of the stairs, a man in a red shirt who appears to be in charge of crowd control gives us detailed instructions, in Hungarian, as to how we should be lined up. Fortunately for us, and the likewise bewildered Brits ahead of us, he also accompanies this explanation with ample hand gestures.
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Eventually we’re inside the exhibit, sponsored by the Centre Pompidou in Paris, that traces the artist’s progress chronologically and gives us a fuller picture than we’ve gotten over the years of seeing a piece or two in scattered museums. His self portrait evinces the doubts he seems to have had in his earlier years in searching for a different way to express his talents in the changing world of modern art.
His simpler forms and experimental sculptures begin to show his ability to transcend the barriers that he faced as he moved into a different phase of life and art.
His color experiments begin to consume entire walls as he developed a new and bold relationship with color, inspired by the brilliant sun in the south of France. He was a master at so many of the styles he attempted over his long life, and the proof is on the walls at this very good exhibit. And maybe someday we’ll even find a cheap little place to rent in quaint Coulliere or Vence to remake our acquaintance with Matisse.
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After the Museum, the rain has eased and we go for a long walk in the park where we encounter the old, classical, and beautiful Szechenyi Baths. From a glance at the posted menu, this is the place to get many of your sensual pleasures fulfilled. We might do that some other day, but it’s getting late and we better start walking before we feel too relaxed.
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We make our way through the crowds who have come to celebrate this public holiday and admire the military equipment that’s on display, while nibbling a corn dog or paddling a boat around the lake. The rain has stopped, so we walk down broad Andrassy utca to get a sense of the stately digs along ‘embassy row’ before boarding the M1 line again.
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And of course, a visit to St Stephen’s Cathedral is high on any must-do list. The ticket line is mercifully quick on the sunny and hot day of our visit, and soon we’re inside the towering building to escape the heat and marvel at the many works that attract the faithful. And even the rest of us.
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Although Hungary has actively excluded many middle eastern war refugees in recent years, they share a border with Ukraine and have accepted 1200 children as refugees of the current Russian invasion to attend summer camps run by charitable groups in the country. According to Hungary Today, officials say “…the number of people arriving in Hungary from Ukraine has now exceeded 890,000.” The war has also greatly increased demand here for solar panels as a result of surging energy prices. Perhaps as another result of the Russians’ occasional need to invade their neighbors, Katalin Novák, the President of the Republic, as part of her St. Stephen’s Day speech, reiterated that, “Our fate is intertwined with that of Europe. We need the community of European countries and they need us.”
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On yet another day we visit the city’s gorgeous Opera house and buy a couple of tickets for the next guided tour, passing a large statue of Ferenc (Franz) Liszt on the way to the front door. Our dark-haired tour guide has a charming accent and is filled with fascinating insights about the history of the building. The walls are lined with statues of famous composers, the ceilings are painted with masterpieces, and the chandelier in the concert hall weighs three tons. According to our guide, the lavish throne facing the stage was rarely used by the ruling monarch, who didn’t much care for opera. This impressive hall, dating from 1884, is reputed to have near-perfect acoustics. But we were not there during the opera season – from September through June – and had to settle for an excellent ‘mini-opera’ of various selections performed on a stairway as part of our tour.
There’s a full schedule throughout the opera season, with around twenty ballets and operas per month. Offerings include multiple productions of Tosca, La Bohème, Die Walküre, and Der Nussknacker (The Nutcracker) throughout the holidays.
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We’d read of the Eiffel Art Studios and their connection to the Opera, but there was no mention during our tour. So that got us started on an Eiffel sidetrack, a typical part of ‘C&P’s Disjointed Tours.’ Our motto might be “Let’s wing it!,” but it probably won’t generate sales.
So we look up the Eiffel Art Studio and find that it’s a good long walk from our current quirky rental at the Dean’s College Hotel – a dorm near a university that lets out rooms to travelers in the offseason. It’s our second sleep out of four in Budapest, as a consequence of our extended stay in the city.
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It’s a rainy day as we depart in search of Eiffel, but it clears as we hike along charming byways and onward through the city’s massive People’s Park (our Hungarian friend Steve has mentioned the city’s beautiful parks), where the snails are enjoying a drizzly day, only to find that the Studios are closed on the day we chose to visit.
I attempt to get some kind of picture through the reflecting glass, and then notice a policeman heading my way. Fortunately he needed to mention something to the guard inside, so I asked over his shoulder if I could get only one picture (or maybe two, three). The guard smiled and held the door open briefly. We find nice people all over the world.
To my great disappointment, as I have a weakness for odd ancient vehicles, the adjacent transport museum is also closed. And the attendant helpfully points out the daily schedule, which is all in Hungarian.
By that time we’re a bit hungry – but mostly in serious need of a bathroom break. And none of the nearby street stands seems to have one available. Alas, desperation takes us back to a Micky-D that we’d passed along the way. And the wrap we ordered was surprisingly good.
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In our search for the Eiffel Studios we find there’s other Eiffel stuff in Budapest. My initial source says the city’s two major railway stations were designed by Eiffel. But I find that the Keleti pályaudvar, the beautiful classical entry point which serves most international trains, was actually designed by the Hungarian architects Rochlitz and Feketeházy.
Instead, Eiffel, or his studio, designed the more antique-industrial-looking Nyugati station – which serves Romania, the Danube Bend, and the Great Plain – and it's now under restoration.
The nearby Eiffel Palace building is also worth a stop for Eiffel buffs, although it has been modified and ‘modernized’ – especially the odd top of the building – after it was damaged during WWII. The interior still retains some of the Eiffel touches in the lobby.
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I don’t know if Teva sandals are made as tough as they used to be, but I’m fairly sure that Teva will not give me a sponsorship for a product mention here since I bought this pair of Tevas at a Mexican segunda (a second hand store) at least 15 years ago for 50 pesos (about US$5, at the time). They’ve been my daily footwear even since and they’ve taken me on treks across towns, cities, and countrysides in Mexico, South America, and Europe without a failure. So if you see an old pair of Tevas in your size at a second hand store, be sure to buy them. They’ll have many good years of trekking left in them.
(NB: It’s my good fortune that Mexican segundas buy bags of clothing by the pound in the US, and there aren’t many Mexicans with big feet like mine. So I can usually find my size languishing on a dusty shelf.)
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Please join us for Budapest II, which we hope to publish soon if we can find the time on this busy trip. — PRW