Apres-Bike

Budapest

The Parliament, a dominant presence in the cityscape.

The next stage in our voyage was a week in Budapest, which was only 4 hours away by train. We were loaded down with biking gear -- and, in my case, an overcoat which luckily I never had occasion to use -- so we tried to lighten our load by depositing some bags in the train station. But my suitcase still weighed a ton! The Hungarian train was nowhere near as clean and nice as the Austrian ones. The station was noisy and dirty …. as train stations usually are, come to think of it, but we had gotten used to the cleanliness of Austria after only a week. It just didn’t feel very safe. There was a special tourist office from where tourists were advised to get taxis, because there was rampant fare-rigging. The men looked swarthy, (shades of Zoltan Kaparthy in My Fair Lady!), and they loved moustaches that hung down the sides of their mouths ending in long points, and many were named Vlad.

Our hotel was right on the Danube, a beautiful location with a spectacular view. The building was one of the few that was not Art Nouveau, an ordinary semi-modern building, probably circa 1970s. But the inside was very pleasant with an indoor-outdoor café … the place incorporated 2 or 3 older townhouses linked together. There were striking modern paintings all over, apparently painted by the owner. The best part, though, was that when we complained of a room that reeked of cigarette smoke, they upgraded us to a junior suite!

Our first stop was the famous Gellert’s hotel, spectacular from the outside but a huge disappointment once inside, especially after the glowing write ups in the guidebooks. However, the food there was excellent. A pity we only had a wee taste: I had goose liver on toast (The first of many goose liver meals to come!), quickly sauteed with truffle oil – delicious. And sweet palacsintas were also delicious.

The next item on the agenda was supposed to have been a bath in their famous hot baths but several things made us hesitate: it was steamy, noisy and crowded with lots of barefooted people in towels walking around the public area – not very luxurious or spa-like. Nowhere near the hushed, opulent, pampered feel of the Asian spas we were used to. In fact, it felt more like Grand Central Station (the New Yorker in me speaking). There was an enormously long and confusing list of all the treatments and fees; and the frowning women behind the counters were not much help. After hemming and hawing about the entrance fee, which seemed rather high, we decided to splurge since it was pouring with rain outside and sightseeing was out of the picture. By that time, though, it was near closing time. (Close at 5? A spa?) So we wandered over to Liberty Hill in the drizzle and tried to peer through the fog at the view. Almost at the top, there was a chapel deep inside the mountain, either carved out of the mountainside or in an existing cave. There was a Mass going on and there was an atmosphere of deep devotion. I guessed that it must have been a place where Masses were secretly held during the Communist era.

We decided to have an early dinner and went out in search of a restaurant written up in Myrna’s Lonely Planet. It was rustic and had a quartet playing the Hungarian Rhapsody – the first of many Hungarian rhapsodies we would hear at every meal or coffee break. We enjoyed the place because the performers were so different from Austrians, more flamboyant and extrovert. On the menu, as with every other restaurant or coffee shop, was goose liver. The Hungarians must grow a lot of geese because goose liver is everywhere – with steak, with chicken, on toast – and I intended to try it in all its guises! That night it was on butterflied steak, the only good thing about the dish. But what can one expect from a recommendation from Lonely Planet?

The way home was an experience. We were totally lost and asked some people the way. They were very friendly and told us which tram to take, which happened to be the one they were taking. We got on and as we wondered how and where to pay, one of the group smilingly shrugged his shoulders, saying “You are my guests!” We were so touched at his generosity and thanked him profusely. It turned out that public transport operated on the honor system, and unfortunately not everyone, including ourselves, were always honorable! We got away with several free rides, and not thanks to anyone's "generosity".

The walk back to the hotel along the Danube was beautiful, the skies cleared and the river sparkled with all the illuminated bridges and buildings lining its banks.