AT HOME IN BUDAPEST

Week three of Budapest and we’d definitely settled into a comfortable routine.

I’ve now discovered there are a few different ways to travel, neither of which are the ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way. Option one is the constant blur of movement, one or two nights in some hostel where the beds aren’t entirely clean and the faces are strangers that soon become friends. It’s a rush of trains, planes, buses, and you’ve got one afternoon to find out everything you can about an unfamiliar country. You eat the most traditional dish you can find, stop by all the famous monuments or museums, revel in the sound of chattering in a language you’ve never heard before. Or there’s the slower option, finding somewhere to call home with a warm bed and a place to write down your thoughts. You’ve got time to ponder, wander, and watch the way the people move on this side of the world. To see what it’s like to shop for groceries in the local market, watch a movie at the cinema, eat street food with locals, drink beer in a lively downtown pub. Some days you take a walk around streets with no agenda or destination, and spend an afternoon lazing and reading in the sun at the park round the corner. Our time in Budapest was definitely the latter of these two travel experiences, and it suited the city perfectly.

 

In our last week in Budapest we had a visit from our friend Molly who we first met in Rome. This travelling little lady had seen many places in the month we’d spent apart, and that first day we unloaded our stories and spoke about far away cities. It’s crazy to me how easy it felt visiting one another, almost like a friend who had drove over from her house to mine for an afternoon cup of tea. When in reality we had moved through entirely different countries and just happened to meet in Hungary. Travelling this year has given me this strange perception of distance. When you’re as free as a bird, everywhere is just around the corner.

Over those last few days we took her to see some of our favourite things about Budapest. For me it was the good vibes and yummy food at the Sunday morning Szimpla Market. Martin’s was a sunny stroll around Margaret Island. In between we ate deliciously cheap food (some of the best falafels ever!) and sipped wine at Szimpla Bar when the sun goes down and the place transforms into a wonderland of lights and colour.

One evening there was a wild lightning storm. I heard the first rumble of thunder and we both bolted to the balcony to see the sky catch alight. The rain drops were heavy and smelt like that home-time summer rain. I absentmindedly snapped some photos but mostly I was transfixed by the flashes echoing around the city.

A quiet solo afternoon stroll admiring facades. The deeper I find myself into this journey, the more I discover about myself. Like how I am an observer. I notice every tiny detail in everyday life. I can walk a path between unfamiliar winding streets just one time and memorise that journey. I never get lost. I see the crook of the doorway, the purple curtains in a window, the fading fire hydrant, and those small clues always lead me home. I see the man with the sad eyes, or the hungry cat looking through a trash can, and sometimes I take a picture. I talk to myself a lot in my head, I don’t think I could ever crave conversation. I think so much that my mind could never be silent. But on this day I was happy to be distracted by small details like the formation of cleverly placed windows or the cracking and crumbling of concrete balconies. Immense thought and work had gone into their creation, and to think that no one really looks or admires them seemed odd to me. So I took a picture and kept walking.

Our last day was spent admiring the city from new heights with new friends. We caught a bus to the top of the hill, and marvelled at the great expanse stretched out before us. It’s a tradition now for me to find a place with a view of the city, to understand it’s size and structure. I saw a river winding between castle like buildings, bridges connecting the Buda to the Pest and people making their way inbetween. I thought about our time here, even with being sick and tired, Budapest had become one of my favourite places. But tomorrow we were on to new adventures, and two had become three, and we were ready for new sights, smells, sounds and foods. Tomorrow the destination was Croatia.