TravelsEast: BudaPest ii

I awoke from my bed feeling truly rested. A night in clean, flannel sheets on top of a larger, more comfortable mattress than I have been using for the past 3 months was one of the best parts of the trip. What's more, I had gone to bed nearly sober so my stuff was all arranged and I made sure to get comfortable instead of laying down fully clothed. For these reasons, it was a treat to wake up in Budapest. We headed down to the kitchen and took our time making our smuggled tea and planning our day. Olga helped us decide on a few places of interest while erik checked online and found a festival in city park later in the day. We suited up and headed south to the great market hall.

We walked for about fifteen minutes through they grey and somewhat chilly day as the skies began to lightly open up and we finally felt what we imagined to be the meteorological equivalent to the soviet experiment. Walking by the national museum, we gazed in through the stern iron fence. On barron dirt stood a few concrete plinths supporting bronze and copper busts of former leaders and heroes of the people, and some children played with a dog while a grandma or great aunt watched. Beacuse of their size, the streets seemed empty though there were people walking, as if the city had experienced a recent exodus. As we neared the river we came upon the massive red and golden brick market hall on our left.

Inside, the place is like the early train stations that the impressionists loved so much. Massive, spacious interior supported by a network of thin but strong iron lattice that allows for a feeling of maximum openness. We took a staircase to our right up to the second level, so we could get a good view of the whole place. Down below us, residents did their routine shopping in the massive produce market, buying cured meats, fish, fruits, vegetables, bread and various oils and vinegars, all at separate specialized stalls. One directly below us must have been of specific interest because it drew a substantial crowd. Later, we would hunt for some local cheese until nearing the exit, where we realized that the crowd came for the only cheese stall. Anyway, up top we walked by people already getting beer and realized it might be a good time to get some eats. Thus began our no reservations tour of Budapest, as we passed stall after stall showing dozens of local dishes and accompanyments. We stopped at one so erik could get a massive stuffed cabbage drenched in sour cream and liberally seasoned with paprika, the national spice. I had a few bites and got myself some hot wine. Different from the english variety, the hot wine in budapest is less spicy. Some low quality, big fruity red brewed with cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg and some other sutff yields a most delectable beverage. I must have had 4 or more that day, and maybe 2 the next. Which is saying a lot, because I went for the large size every time.

Sated and buzzed, we walked around looking at the typical tourist fare: bags hats scarves keychains pens mugs shot glasses ashtrays, all declaring one's visit to the city. A few places sold soviet "relics" and erik got a sick leather bound flask with a hanmmer/sickle red star emblem. I do like that flask. I looked for a while for something for you, mom, but everything was as good or worse than what we could pick out at rastro here in madrid. and i didnt just want to get you a shirt or something with a picture of a bridge and the name budapest. So we walked for maybe 30 minutes until i found a tshirt for a local football team and bargained down to 5euros. As it turned out, the logo has almost completely come off, but its a nice green and now it looks a little vintage, so fuck it.

After looking for cheese downstairs among the odors of a living market, i forced a stop for some pastry and got a delicious thing with some kind of sweet cheese stuffing and sugar butter stuff on top. it was rich yet flaky, sweet and a bit chilly in the thicker-than-creamy center. Heaven. We split that and headed out the door to retrace our steps past the museum and the hostel on our way to andrassy ave, a 2 mile unesco site flanked by rich examples of old european architecture and the eastern penchant for statues. In one rotunda we stood surrounded by 3 massive heroes and one equally scaled but less masculine guy holding a quill and paper where we chose favorites. Erik picked a dude standing on some bodies and I a guy with a flat topped hat, a labrador-tail moustache and a conan style sabre. In almost exactly an hour from the door of the market hall we found ourselves in heroes square, a great open space flanked on either side by classical museums 200 meters apart that gives out into city park through a semi-circular concrete colonnade. In the middle stands a 60 foot obelisk topped by some kind of truth bearing prophet with wild robes and beard, surrounded at its base by 8 or 10 serious dudes on horses. These guys looked like the 12 disciples of badass, 15 feet tall and scultped with the conviction of titans. One guy must have killed an ancient reindeer and fastened the horns on his horses head to look like demon tusks. If these guys were in Lord of the Rings, There would be no question of victory. Whoever they supported would win.

Inside we walked through a craft market where Erik got his own pastry, a larger flaky shell filled with both cheesy stuff and berry preserve, but inferior to the treat from earlier. We headed for the rebuilt transylvanian castle in the middle, where crowds filed in for the annual mangelica (wooly cow-style pig) festival. Inside, more hot wine and some traditional magyar folk performance while we strolled around watching people feast in the light rain and crowd around steaming cups of coffee or wine. eventually the sights became to much and we walked down the side of a long hut until we saw a pot with the most appetizing contents and pointed to it. 12 euros later we found a seat with our 4 pount plates and proceeded to have one of the best meals i have had since i left the states. amazing pork and onion stew in some rich, thick mustardy sauce that makes my mouth water writing about it now. More food matter in a single meal than i have eaten in months, but i could not stop. We walked some more among the stalls serving people dining, drinking, desserting. I would live my last days there, eating until I could no longer move. We came upon a spot where round pink people huddled around cauldrons suspended over flames and shelled out free bowls of goulash, and were tempted to take some, but felt bad about taking advantage when we had already gorged beyond responsibility. We walked off the meal a bit more and got some coffee (which by the way, is awful. it was great to get some quality food and beer, but ill take spanish coffee anyday) before going back out the way we came, stopping again to marvel at the green copper force of heroes before walking back down andrassy ave.

Back at the hostel we basically collapsed and even considered sleeping, were it not for all that we still had not done. Shorty after, the rest of the people from the previous night shuffled in and we all related our day's experiences over some more tea as it was now somewhere arond 4. Erik and I were the only ones with a plan so we got everyone together and headed back out, this time westward toward the danube and Buda beyond. We all crossed the famous chain bridge and exchanged our ideas about its relative majesty as we walked over the river whose breadth astounds me even now, through memory. It's nothing like the Hudson at the tappan zee or what i imaine the widest parts of the mississippi are, but for being in the middle of an old city like that, its a superstar.

On the other side we opted to walk up castle hill, the great incline right in front of us, and took to a stone staircase slicing its way diagonally up the side. every time we looked back a new set of lights had turned on along the bridge or back in Pest so there were plenty of opportunities to stop to catch breath as lilac became violet became plum. We finally reached the top and felt like we were in a completely different place. Pest was a major city that had continued to thrive and grow and adapt over the decades and centuries as I'm sure the rest of Buda had as well, but Castle Hill seemed to have been preserved over a hundred years ago. Bright orange lights spilled along the shiny cobbled floor from their globes above our heads and we looked out over the city some 400 feet or so above. To our right perched a bronze eagle that could have picked any one of us up like a kitten had it only been of flesh. We sat with that tought for a moment when this shysty old man approached us and took out this tiny photoshopped guide liscence and proceeded to advertise his tour. Some of us walked off immediately, but I have to say I was mesmerized by this guys voice. He spoke english with such a strange tone and accent, fluctuating in volume and stress like no human on earth, whistling through his ancient moustache and beckoning us to "save our time and save our money" with him. Eventually I broke from the spell, leaving only erik to fend him off. I wish I could have that guy read to me every night.

So we walked along, for some reason in the opposite direction of the massive stately building guarded by the eagle but toward the small stone village instead. We stopped in a market and exchanged our respective knowledge of eastern beers in front of a cooler before we all got pint sized cans and rolled back out to check out a church with a scaffolded spire and the castle-wall lookout beyond. The lookout was great, like the parapets of some feudal fortress, built into the walls of the hill sloping below us into the river. The only problem was, since the architecture was so picturesque, it was lit from below with some super powerful bulbs to make it visible from all of Hungary, so if you got too close to the edge, the light prevented you from seeing anything. Perhaps to stem suicides, which happened to become the topic of conversation. We strolled for maybe another hour around Buda, talking about countries wed vsited and shit like that until we turned back for some beer and wine in a proper setting.

Back in Pest I led people to a bar I remembered passing the night before, a place similar to the cafe erik and i went to but larger and much more animated. We drank a bit and one of the group left to get ready for the monthly turkish bath party, which the rest of us chose to save 20euros and not got to. So we had a few drinks surrounded by international 20somethings and served by staff that acted as though theyd seen 100 carbon copies of each of us and had had their fill. Still, with the bric a brac furnishings, murals of paintings and toys attached to the walls, and live DJ languidly spinning upbeat yet mellow tracks, it was a good spot to rest.

To round off our anthony bourdaine day, erik and I hit a nearby liquor store. As my funds were dwindling, I went cheap and got something that I couldnt read but I knew would do well in a flask, while Erik went lux and got some pear brandy called palinka. Back at the bubble he couched on the verge of passing out while I alternated sips of our spirits. Mine was just some neutral grain buzz fluid but his was a strange, clear concoction of old bitterness with multiple fruit accents. Interesting though far from lovely.

Flash forward and were back in the condemned building bar, this time with about 6 other travellers in our own private room upstairs having a great conversation about conflicting cultural mores after my proposed get-to-know-you-through-

sexual-confessions drinking game had tanked. It was pretty good for a while until i noticed that erik was not enjoying things and proposed that we move downstairs. He wanted a change of scenery and we had another beer or two and bounced. We went to a few spots but there was nothing spectacular, and certainly no amazing street life like we have here in Madrid, so after one extra shitty bar, the three of us that remained together opted to buy some hungarian "bulls-blood" wine and head back to the hostel. There we drank with a few other people who made it back but again i was hit with the same wave of total fatigue that had come over me the night before and i woke up at some point to olga removing my shoes as i lay on the community couch. I thanked her for her care and scurried upstairs were i curled up and rested for the third and final day of my first journey into strange and ancient eastern europe.

pt iii to follow...