My house in Budapest, my
George Ezra, “Budapest”
My hidden treasure chest
Golden grand piano
My beautiful Castillo
Ever since the second stop in Switzerland of my Eurotrip, the time I spent in the successive countries has been brief—one country, one city. That’s it. Then, time for me to move on. Hungary was the fifth country that I visited, specifically Budapest.
The morning I set off for Budapest started off a little hectic. I thought that I was departing from the train station 15 minutes from my Airbnb in Vienna, Austria. Turns out, I was only picking up my ticket from there. When I tried to figure out the transfers, the instructions were glib. However, I discerned that I had to make my way to another station to make the connection to Budapest. It was a good thing that I arrived at the station early and double checked my booking instructions. Still, even though I had time, I hopped on the wrong tram, got off at a random stop, and had to schedule an Uber ride from my unspecified position. Yet, despite my stressful misadventures, I was still early to the train station, and then my train was delayed.
When the train finally arrived, it was packed, so I just sat down in a seat. Prior to that day, I was unfamiliar with how European train seats worked. In the US, you just find a seat in the car with your class. However, with European trains, you can reserve a seat, and if you have a reservation, it will indicate your assigned seat on your ticket. My train ticket had no designation, and I sat successively in two reserved seats and was promptly kicked out by the rightful occupants of those seats at the first few stops of the train. No matter, I’ll go stand in between the cars until a spot clears.
While I was standing in between cars, an odd older fellow with disheveled gray hair came and stood in the area with me. The first thing I noticed about him was the oversized winter coat that he was wearing. It seemed way too heavy for the warm summer day. The second thing I noticed was the small bindle of possessions he was carrying; it looked like a tote bag you would get at a conference just stuffed with paper and random material. The last thing I noticed was the smell that filled the area: reminiscent of the homeless people in Madison, Wisconsin—a combination of urine and sweat dried into their clothing. There was no way that this man was in possession of a ticket, and he was likely avoiding the ticket checker who was making the rounds with all the passengers.
Sure enough, in a matter of minutes, the ticket checker materialized in the area where the possible stowaway and I were standing between cars. “Tickets please.” I opened my phone, and the checker scanned the QR code from the PDF of my ticket. He then moved on to the odd fellowlje. “Ticket please.”
“I don’t have one,” responded the man. “I’m just going to Budapest.”
“25 Euros then,” demanded the ticket checker. His voice was stern, and he pulled out a packet of train tickets. However, he probably knew what was going to happen next.
The odd fellow patted his coat pockets and reached into his tote bag as if searching for where he kept his money. When nothing, but scrap paper fell from his bag. He then admitted, “I have no money.”
The ticket checker then put away the packet of train tickets, “If you have no money, you get off at the next stop.” He then started to walk towards the next car, but the stowaway tried to plead with him.
“Please, can’t you just let me ride to Budapest? I will get off there.”
“No ticket, no money, you’ll get off at the next stop.” That was the final word. The ticket checker then turned his attention to me. In a kinder tone, he addressed me, “Sir, have seat. There are open spots in the next car.” So, I carried my bags into the next car and found a seat.
At the next stop, I looked out the window and watch the stowaway deboard. We were about two stops away from Budapest and an hour away according to Google Maps. Part of me felt mildly sorry for the man who was now stranded at a random stop in Hungary. Still, what if I paid the 25 Euros for his train fare, would he have been in any better shape? There was nothing of value that I noticed in his tote bag. He would have been in the same pecuniary state in Budapest as he was at that Hungarian stop. I have no idea what his plan was in Budapest. Maybe there were better spots for sleeping outdoors and staying dry; maybe the restaurants threw away more food at night that could be scavenged; or maybe the tourist descending on the city during the summer were more generous with the change that they didn’t want to carry and, if asked politely, would unburden themselves of the Euro cents or Hungarian forints.
Who knows what that stowaway sought in Budapest?
For me, Budapest was dirtier but livelier than Vienna. There were more tourists in Budapest from the US, from the UK, from South America, from India, from China, from South Korea, and from neighboring countries in Europe. Budapest was certainly more of a draw than Vienna. Budapest is actually bisected by the Danube into two parts: Buda and Pest. I was staying on the Buda side, across from the Dohány Street Synagogue, the largest synagogue in Europe. Since it was right across from my Airbnb, it was the first thing in Budapest that I explored, and my first time visiting a synagogue. Afterwards, I ordered Hungarian goulash and then went back to my Airbnb for a nap. When I woke up, I decided that I would walk 30 minutes to check out a pinball museum that I learned about during my query of things to do in Budapest while riding the train earlier.
My second day in Budapest, I explored the Great Market Hall. It was filled with food stalls and souvenir vendors. The souvenir offerings didn’t seem too different from one vendor to the next, so I whizzed around the market with nothing really capturing my attention. Then for brunch, I ordered Hungarian meatballs in tomato sauce before buying some paprika for me to cook goulash when I am back in Doha. The rest of the afternoon, I parked in a craft brewery while sipping fruity beers and editing my photos from Vienna on my laptop. I wrote a blog post later than evening and posted it.
My third day in Budapest, I walked to the Pest side of the city to explore the palace and Fisherman’s Bastion that sit on the hill overlooking the Danube. Pest is certainly more stately and cleaner than Buda. Tourists go to Pest to enjoy the high culture and majestic architecture of the Old Town, and they go to Buda for the abundance of restaurants, bars, and nightclubs that it offers.
When I double checked my Eurotrip itinerary, it was odd that I only scheduled three nights in Budapest. Inexplicably, I scheduled four nights in Bratislava, Slovakia. I am not sure what my reasoning was when I mapped out my summer. No matter. One day more in the city would still only be scratching the surface of the city. I could always return to Budapest in the future and explore more facets of the tantalizing capital of Hungary.
Just as I unpacked my bags, it was time for me to pack them again and move on to the next city of my travel.
The following are some of my photos in the city called “Queen of the Danube.”
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