Farewell to Budapest, Hungary

After our full month of glorious travel, we returned to Budapest for our flight home. We got in at 6pm Saturday and our plane left on Monday morning. We needed to repack everything and say goodbye to Budapest, a city we had been to often and grown to love. Of all the European cities, it is the one we feel the most comfortable in. I’m sure the reason is that we know it the best. We know how to get around and feel safe here.

I did some last shopping for gifts despite the fact that our suitcases were straining. Tom returned our rental car. We had no one to say goodbye to at this point. We just needed to bid Hungary goodbye. We walked along the Danube at night and strolled the streets and squares one last time. But mainly we ate.

Yes, we made reservations at Bock Bistro for Saturday night. Although we had eaten often at Bock Bistro in Villanyi, we had never eaten at their new restaurant in Budapest; it was wonderful. The interior looks exactly like a French bistro, or I was reminded of New Orleans. Tile floors, wooden tables with white linen, shelves stocked with wine, and a man in the corner playing the accordion. Nothing overly formal. I was excited to be back to Hungarian wine and behaved accordingly.

Notice the clean platters and chewed over lamb bones. And the smile of contentment.

As if one night of gluttony wasn’t enough, we went for two. Our final night we returned to our favorite Budapest restaurant, Borsso Bistro, one we took all of our visitors to.

Tom and I sat outside on a warm evening and both ate monumentally good duck with Thai spring-roll ravioli and ginger mash potatoes. We just looked at one another in disbelief. How did we get to be so lucky?

We have had quite the journey through Central Europe and most of all Hungary, a country with a whole lotta soul.

Somehow the next morning we got all of our luggage to the airport and back to San Luis Obispo

And we are delighted to have returned to our family, friends, and our little Dilsey dog.

Vienna

This beautiful city was our last touring stop before going back to Budapest. We had heard what a magnificent city it was and it did not disappoint. The Danube is not a central feature in Vienna like it is in Prague and Budapest. The Innere Stadt or central city district, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is not built around the river. The area is filled with numerous museums, the Stephansdom (gothic cathedral), the Hofburg palace (the base for the Habsburgs for six centuries), and parliament.

The first day we spent touring the Schloss Schonbrunn, a magnificent palace commissioned by Leopold I and used by Franz Joseph I and Empress Elisabeth. We toured the apartments, reception rooms, ballroom, Chinese Rooms, Million Room (because it cost a million to decorate), and the sumptuous gardens.

It was also extremely hot, and I spent much of my time wondering how the women went around in their corsets, petticoats, and long, heavy dresses. No wonder they didn’t move and had ladies in waiting dress them.

The chief highlights for me were the art museums. The Kunsthistorisches Museum is one of Europe’s finest art museums and I had never heard of it. We went straight to the floor to see paintings by Bruegel, Durer, Rubens, Titan, Raphael, and Caravaggio among others. One whole gallery room displayed Bruegels, one of my very favorites. I spent an hour in that room alone looking at Hunters in the Snow and The Tower of Babel for example.

The Leopold Museum was another surprise. It displays a collection of 19 and 20^th century Austrian art. We went because I wanted to see Gustav Klimt. Tod and Leben or Death and Life is displayed there. Klimt is the only Austrian painter I really know.

The primary Austrian artist featured at the Leopold is Egon Schiele, a provocative painter who died young from the Spanish flu in 1918 after serving in WWI. His paintings were a revelation to me. His sketches were in the basement and his paintings on the ground floor. Schiele lived in Cesky Krumlov for a while (a Czech town we loved) and painted it several times. See what you think of his paintings.

One evening we attended a concert in the Hofburg. A small orchestra and opera singers entertained us and a packed house with Mozart and Strauss. It’s hard to top Strauss’ Viennese waltzes while in Vienna. We spent three days in Vienna and felt as if we could spend more. We were bathed in art, history, and culture.

Lake Balaton

As I am sure most everyone has figured out by now, Tom and I have returned home to California. It is wonderful being home. To feel complete with our Hungarian adventure, I have to post two more entries about our last week abroad: Lake Balaton and Vienna.

From the Danube Bend above Budapest, Tom and I drove to Lake Balaton to meet Gyozo and Andrea and their three kids. Gyozo represents a shoe company and is the businessman whom Tom accompanied to Romania.

We have gotten together with them often in Pecs. They spend their summers at a cottage on Lake Balaton, one her father built.

Lake Balaton is the largest lake in Europe and is the resort area for Hungarians. We also learned that the lake was a popular meeting place during the communist era for families from East Germany and West Germany because they could both travel there.

Gyozo and Andrea had booked us in a hotel where several Hungarians stayed with their families for a week or so. The hotel provided “half board”; they served breakfast and dinner. We felt slightly self-conscious because we were clearly not locals and appeared as intruders into this cozy Hungarian beach scene. Our English, manner, and dress give us away.

Everyone went around in bathing suits, no cover-ups, and I was struck by the different attitude toward the body. Many Hungarians are overweight (because of the high fat diet), yet no effort is made to cover the body. There is no evidence of shame or preoccupation with the body. Huge grandmas and grandpas go around in two piece suits and speedos. My one piece suit and Tom’s long leg suit were a novelty. Maybe Tom and I are not typical of American culture (perhaps more Southern culture), but I envied the Hungarian matter of fact attitude about the body as just a body, no residual puritan self-consciousness or the counter-response—preening and calling attention to it. In Hungary and probably all of Europe, it is what it is.

We kept noticing how everyone gathered up beach paraphernalia and headed down a path to the lake every morning. We walked down the path at dusk and were surprised to see that it ended on a very small wooden dock with metal steps leading down into the lake. No sand, no beach, no place to lay out. Only water surrounded by water reeds. Where was everyone going? The only option was in the water. The water stayed shallow for about a half a mile, I swear.

And it was cold, we thought. Nevertheless, everyone had a ball. The kids walked to the lake, played, got out, and simply walked back. No towels, no drying off.

We had a wonderful time visiting with our Hungarian friends. They grilled for us, and we sat around on beach chairs in their backyard chatting. I especially enjoyed talking with their children and listening to their attitudes toward Hungary. They complained a lot about how things don’t work and seem discouraged with their country. They also reported being tired of all the references to their tragic history: those days were over. Although impatience with the past is typical for this age, we did wonder how much this Hungarian generation would be willing to fight to make changes. We worry that many will just try to leave. These kids are very bright and have been provided with lots of opportunities and loving parents. Tom and I look forward to following their life paths.

This family became dear to us and we will miss them.