I am back in Budapest, and having an array of favorite visitors: my mom was in town, now Fischnu, and soon D himself is going to be finding a two-month refuge in Pest. Both mom and Fischer criticized the lack of a clothing rack in my flat, both spread their things all over my armchairs, and both have been diligent dishwashers.
At the end of March, on a random whim of fate my high school teacher was visiting Budapest with a group of students. In return of my poorly guided tour of Pest’s trams, cute squares, and most importantly the great City Market, they took me on a boat trip down the Danube. The photo I took is a source of pride for both me and my tiny Casio. More recently, when my mom was in town, we were walking around and observed this beautiful bridge decorated into a different kind of “lighting.” Someone very Russian and named Petya wrote on the side of it in chalk “Katya, I love you.” My people are really expressive, especially when they visit European capitals that they have previously invaded.
Yesterday, to reward myself for half an hour of cultural misguidance related to purchase of contact lens solution, I headed to Java Caffé. Serving coffee to “take away” (since every one here learns English from a Britt) is Budapest’s new thing, and Starbucks look-alikes are opening everywhere. Java Caffé is a chain but cool despite the whole confusion with the word café in the title. Read more…
My first official cross-bridge trip to Buda commenced on possibly one of the worst weather days in Hungarian history. My beloved visitor Joke and I, naively umbrella-less and optimistic, headed for the tram stop. I have related to Joke the “riding the tram without a ticket theory” that has been passed down by generations of Budapest expats – apparently it costs less to ride the tram for free and get caught than buy tickets. Content with our righteous choice of payment avoidance we rode the number 6 to Moszjva Ter and were spit out in the middle of a large track, road, and people crossing. Read more…
So I got to Budapest in one piece but with some adventure and suffering. At 7:30 pm last Thursday (an hour after scheduled departure, thanks to the JFK traffic jam) my plane lifted off and headed towards the ocean. Read more…
Well, I can say with pride that I have learned the phrase most essential to my survival in Hungary: I do not speak Hungarian. As an example, here is an account of my amazing interactions at a salon last week: Read more…
I manage to visit, apparently one of the hottest venues in Budapest, twice in one weekend. Meet Artemovsk 38 – a Ukrainian stone barge in former life – now a restaurant, bar, concert space, and dance hall all in one rusted body. On Friday we went to see a show of a gipsy musician –Mitsoura. Her shrill voice and accompanying blurry hippie-times style video made me feel stoned almost immediately, but overall the concert was impressive. On Saturday, we returned for a work party. The good part about A38 is that it’s enormous in size. This, of course, prevents the waters of Danube from moving it in any which direction, so even those weak of stomach when at sea will be fine.
Big props to Lonely Planet for having this place on the list of Budapest cheap eats. My new all time favorite chow paradise is well hidden on one of Pest’s tiny streets. I had an entire pot of Mushroom Goulash - quite possibly the best soup ever, only to be compared to my mom’s borsch, and a salad, which I wasn’t so impressed with. But who cares about leafy greens when you can have hearty soups and other delicacies delivered to the table in cute pots and pans?