budapest

Leafy, hilly Buda and busy traffic clogged Pest ‑ two cities united in 1111 by a king and a bridge to become Budapest.

As we were pulling into Keleti train station, the reflections of rainbow coloured neon lights caught at the periphery of my gaze, Turning my head I was confronted with a sight that founded my first impression of Budapest. If there is anywhere in the world where fairies and elves come to do acid and design lighting displays on very large buildings, it must be Budapest. The 'arena' shopping centre was the culprit of this neon glow and I was suddenly, desperately in love with this crazy, vibrant maze of a city.

Budapest defies comparison. Even as I write this, I am sitting on the rug adorned floor of an unmarked teahouse, where a mirrored hallway leads to a rope playground, ladders spiral upwards to secret hideaways above the masses, little tables dot the room and teacups and matching saucers dance around in the haze of shisha smoke. I feel like I'm in Alice's wonderland but in a city like this, such a place makes perfect sense.

My timid romance with Budapest blossomed into a love affair when, on a dreary, wet morning I wandered aimlessly through her streets and ended up on the Chain Bridge. I paused to take in the spectacle of the riverbank architecture and took out my camera, swiveling to see the sun glint off the river and the huge Parliament building filling the lens. Never before have I seen such breathtaking and unexpected beauty in such a large, populated city.

My days in Budapest have been spent ambling back and forth, squinting against the snow which darts towards my eyes like little icicles determined to blind me. I've skipped through the Christmas markets and eaten a disgustingly huge crepe‑log thing (made of pancake stuff but cooked on a spit so that you end up with a big hollow roll of sugary sickness). My visit was happily timed with the Art Fair so I spent a day looking at beautiful art that I can't afford, but not before visiting the "Mákos Briós Kutyaszar Fesztivál" (brioche with poppy seed dog shit festival) that I'd heard about through my intrepid seeking of underground news (thank you google).

You'll no doubt be curious as to what happens at a dog shit festival. First, there are hippies. On the ground are brioche twirled into the shape of a dog's street offering, which passing dogs sniff at in some consternation. Then there are smaller brioche‑turds in a basket, which are handed out to passers by who stop to dance to the hippy music. People talk about the scourge of dog doo and dance around eating free brioche and laughing at the disapproving looks thrown their way by nearby cafe owners. It was crazy, but plenty of fun.

The fact that this event existed underlines what is perhaps my favourite thing about Budapest ‑ that it doesn't shut down for winter the way so many places do. There are still festivals, parties, meetings, shops still open for their normal hours, tourist places still run and people still smile.
Even though Hungarians are statistically the most depressed people in Europe, and in spite of the way many people have commented to me that Hungarians are unfriendly, my own experiences have led me to a different conclusion. People smile and help even when you approach them clumsily with English. Ladies in shops take the time to help you out and orders in cafes are taken down with a smile. I like Hungarians, at least the Budapest version.

While the idea of unfriendly people seems undeserved, Budapest certainly does deserve the fame she has been granted for her stunning and challenging architecture, her mysterious nature and her position, both geographical and metaphorical, as gateway to the east.

Of course, what Budapest is most famous for is her thermal baths, but that's an experience worthy of a post of its own...