We left Budapest this morning, and are on our way to Croatia. Every so often, Tim stops and squints at a sign, and says, “But WHAT does it mean?!” And then we just keep going.
It took us a long time to get out of Budapest because
apparently Hungarians do not believe in left turns. Or breakfast food. Which is
unfortunate.
That being said, they’ve got the coffee thing down
pat.
We had coffee this morning at Eco Café on Andrassy
Avenue, and I think I’m in love. It’s an organic coffeehouse with some of the
best coffee I’ve had in Europe, and the building is beautiful - high ceilings,
white walls, hardwood floors, and natural lighting. The front steps are lined
with potted herbs, and there are wooden crates filled with fresh oranges,
organic pastries in paper bags, and burlap-covered notebooks. It has the
perfect feel for a coffeehouse.
Halfway through our drinks, the Nike half-marathon
runners filed past the window, and all the running-addicts in the café started
twitching. Or possibly it was just me. Life in Denmark has turned me into some
kind of weirdo who thinks she has to
run whenever she sees other people
running. I’m hoping I’ll be able to run in Croatia tonight.
... But you do what you can to see what you can, for
the love of travel, and you understand the world better for it. (Unless you are
five, in which case you are primarily pleased with the helium balloon your
father bought for you in the park, and you pose for a series of photographs
across Europe only to please your mother … who now has a flipbook of you
standing before stunning cities and historical monuments, your expression
disinterested and slightly hostile.)
Budapest is overflowing in monuments, museums, and cathedrals,
and although the architecture hasn’t been maintained as well as, say, Prague,
or modernized like parts of Vienna, it has a distinct cultural and historical
feel that makes it beautiful.
We spent yesterday wandering the streets by foot
(doing the tourist thing, with the camera, as always), admiring St. Stephen’s
Basilica and Buda Castle, crossing the Szechenyi Chain Bridge over the Danube
and taking the footpath up Castle Hill (where I took five hundred photos of the
river flowing between Buda and Pest), and stopping in at little cafés for
drinks, ice cream, and people-watching. I only wish I knew which Hungarian wine
the waitress brought me when I asked for ‘dry, white, local’ (which is, sadly,
the extent of my wine preference and/or knowledge).
We also took a tour of the Hungarian State Opera House
and learned the history of the building, as well as other amusing facts
including how the King of Vienna was offended that the Budapest Opera House was
more beautiful than his own, although smaller, and left halfway through the
first performance. Due to the Hungarian customs, his royal box could not be
used by anyone unless he was present (aside from Madonna, who recently occupied
the box on a visit to Hungary), and his queen had to choose a new box for
herself. She chose the top left, where she could only see half the performance,
but could be seen by the entire
auditorium - which suited her, because she was exceedingly vain.
After the tour they treated us to a mini-opera in the
royal bar room, which was beautiful and moving and the only live opera singing
I’ve ever heard (although probably I should stop admitting things like this,
what with my recent confessions regarding my cheap shoes, my wine ignorance,
and my preference for hostels over hotels). Someday I will go to the
opera and it won’t be in a bar.
Unfortunately we missed the circus (it seemed only fitting that we
celebrate Tim’s 31st birthday at the circus since we went to the zoo
for my birthday), but apparently it doesn’t come to Budapest until mid-October.
Eh well, next time, right? Instead, and despite our tired feet, we took a
little detour through Hero’s Square and the surrounding neighborhoods, stopped
somewhere for dinner, and got ourselves a little preview of the city night life
(there’s only so much you can do with a five year old in tow).
We were almost back to our room when we saw the
beautiful lights flying above the Parliament building, floating and swirling in
the sky like hundreds of fireflies, if fireflies were the size of swallows. I
asked a local what they were, and she said she didn’t know, she had never seen
them before - but we should thank the city for the view.
If you know, please tell me. I want to buy some and
set them free above my someday-coffeehouse - and then, when asked what they
are, I will say, “Oh, those are fireflies from Budapest.”
… later that night …
P.S. Hi Mom. We made it to Northern Croatia after many
hours driving through the countryside of Slovenia (think West Virginia). We are
staying in a small coastal town by the marina, and tomorrow night we’ll be on
our way to Venice. Much love.
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