Budapest

The train pulled into the Keleti station. Budapest was the last stop of my journey and I was thrilled to see a childhood friend even though it had been at least 8 years since we’d crossed paths. I arrived at the gate to her apartment building. After chatting for a bit, she invited me to her friend’s birthday celebration at a bowling alley bar. We stopped by a kebab stand and did our best to finish our kebabs before the bus came. The bus won the race.

The bowling crowd reminded me of some of my friends in Spain: people from various countries, of various ages, but all accepting and interesting and happy to be living life. We were all terrible bowlers. After we ran out of games, we found the last big table and hung out. I got some tips about public transportation—basically no one buys tickets for the buses because you very, very rarely get caught. I was assured that in the short time I would be in Budapest, I should have no problem. Free transportation sounded great.

We got home pretty late, but I slept wonderfully on my friend’s futon without the snores, shouting, and creaky bunkbeds I’d gotten used to in the hostels. I woke up early the next morning to explore Gellért Hill on the Buda side of the city.

After walking to the top and enjoying a sunny view of the city, I stopped for lunch at a café near the river. By then, my friend was done working and met me to explore the Buda Castle, Fisherman’s Bastion, and St. Stephen’s Basilica.

I loved the dog statue fountain in the Buda Castle courtyard, and I learned that Budapest is one of the most dog-friendly cities in Europe.

We got an afternoon coffee and walked over to Margaret Island for a boat tour. The island has pretty much everything but houses: pools, parks, a running trail, and even a zoo. We had planned to do a sunset boat tour, but it was more of a golden hour boat tour, which was possibly even better. The parliament building glowed peach and red and we got to see the surrounding hills and rooftops from the boat. Apparently, Budapest’s Parliament holds over 12 miles of corridors. Imagine how long tours must last.

As for dinner, my friend had a traditional Hungarian restaurant in mind, so we got on the metro to head for dinner. The metro runs under the river and doubles as a bomb shelter. You can’t see the bottom of the escalator from the metro entrance. The restaurant definitely felt traditional with embroidered floral tablecloths and tapestries. We sat in a little wooden booth with tomato-colored cushions and mismatched quilted pillows. Goulash was one of the featured menu items. I have a vivid memory of a childhood friend who wrote a story about a restaurant that served “mystery goulash with hidden possibilities.” Ever since I’d been both curious about and apprehensive of goulash, so I figured it was time. Fortunately, it included nothing hidden.

On the way home we walked by the parliament building lit up in the dark. The design of the turrets and the position of the lights give the illusion of glowing bats hovering in the air above it. I could see why people compare it to Dracula’s castle.

The next morning I went to the Rudas Baths while my friend worked. These thermal baths are the oldest in Budapest and the site was first built by the Ottoman Turks during the reign of the Ottoman Empire. The original baths fell into disrepair during the anti-bathing trend of the Middle Ages but were reconstructed in the late 1500s. They’ve since been repaired quite a few times, but the bath cavern is largely the same structure.

After soaking in the underground bath cavern, the cold pools, and the rooftop hot tub, I was getting prune-y and decided it was time to head back. I got on the bus and immediately noticed that the man standing next to me was probably the largest person I’d ever seen. He must have been over 7 feet tall and 350 pounds. After quite a few stops he suddenly whipped a ticket scanner out of his pocket and turned to me: “Show me your ticket.” So much for the “you won’t get that unlucky in the short time you’re here” advice from the bowling party. I’d taken the giant man for a regular passenger. I’d been informed that the ticket people legally cannot follow you, so I decided to just get away as fast as possible.

“I’m getting off at the next stop.”

“I need to see your ticket.”

“I’m getting off.”

“I need to see it.”

It felt a bit like the yes-it-is-no-it’s-not dialogue between Buddy the Elf and the Gimbel’s toy store manager.

The bus stopped, and I got off. And the guy followed me. I walked, and then I walked faster. “I need to see your ticket!” It was honestly a little freaky to have a man that large following me. I knew he could step on me and squish me flat, but I was pretty sure he couldn’t run. So, in a moment of slight panic, I ducked around a trash can to put a little extra distance on him and took off down the sidewalk. A few blocks later, I saw another bus coming up behind me, and I figured my luck couldn’t be that bad, so I hopped on. But believe it or not…just kidding ;). It was a peacefully uneventful ride.

After grabbing lunch, we set off to explore the Pest side of the city, which has a livelier, hipster-like feel. We saw St. Michael’s Cathedral with its copper-turned turquoise turrets. Just around the corner, I was surprised to see statues of Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush, who ended up in Budapest post–Cold War. Two fratty-looking American students were posing picking Reagan’s nose while their buddy snapped the photo. We decided to continue on.

Parliament is so large, it’s difficult not to keep running into it. An inflatable dinosaur was wandering around that area too. The costume looked a bit large for whoever was wearing it because the poor dinosaur kept bumping into other people. The dino offered a nice bit of laughter before we went down to see the Shoes on the Danube memorial. We joined a pretty large crowd by the shoes, but everyone was quiet.

Next, we walked through Budapest’s most popular ruin bar, Szimpla Kert. The ruin bars were born out of the less-than-ideal economic state Hungary was left in after WWII. There was nothing to rebuild with except for rubble, so restaurant and bar owners used odds and ends to piece their establishments back together. Szimpla Kert is the largest ruin bar in Budapest with dozens of rooms and no shortage of strange décor items from Dr. Seuss books: a paper mâché kangaroo, umbrella plant holders, a 6-foot garden gnome, and a man in the moon clock were some of my favorites.

Due to its popularity, Szimpla Kert was as pricey as it was cool, so we wandered through the rooms and then went to get dinner down the street at a hummus and pita place. It was a lovely way to wrap up nearly 3 weeks of roaming around with a backpack. The next morning it would be time to say goodbye to my friend and to Budapest and catch my flight home to Spain.

Taking showers without wearing flipflops. Putting my things away in my closet instead of locking everything away at night (because someone might steal my giraffe socks). Meeting friends for afternoon coffee. Hearing only languages I could understand. Carrying just a wallet and keys instead of everything I needed on my back. Knowing which bus and metro lines went where. Feeling fully clean. But if I had been offered another 3 weeks to see another five countries, I knew I would take it—dirty giraffe socks and all.