K & L's Travel Blog

We awaken feeling as though we are ready to leave after eight days in Budapest. We have seen the major sights and enjoyed the city, but we both feel it is time to move to on. The party district has been a bit of trial. It’s not just the music. Every morning we’d awaken to crews of people working valiantly to repair the damage of the night. We were constantly dodging vomit and walking through broken glass. Pigeons and crows flocked to eat the vomit (which was everywhere) and beggars picked through other more substantial detritus. 

This day, we carefully make our way and end up having a very nice breakfast at a restaurant around the corner, Cirkusz Café. They totally have the service down (friendly and attentive service not necessarily to be expected) and the food is good as well. It typically has long lines, so we were pleased to get in right away.  

We have been packing and getting ready to go, but are still confused about how exactly to get ourselves to the train station. Google Maps has been less-than-reliable here, and every time I look for directions, it seems to recommend a different route. We decide to reconnaissance our exit to avoid missing our morning train tomorrow. It’s an easy walk down Király Street to the main square. We ask at the travel info. place and they recommend Tram # 49, a straight shot to Kelenfold Station. The tram is right there at the end of our street. Couldn’t be easier. We also buy a one-day pass, realizing that will save us money given it can get us on the ferry to Margaret’s Island and to the train station in the morning. We will give the extra tickets I bought yesterday to Merritt and Madeline. 

It’s one of the prettiest days we’ve had: warm with a perfectly blue sky. We head to the Central Market to buy picnic supplies for lunch. It’s not easy as there are so many crowds and the vendors seem to be tired of tourists, exasperated with us from the beginning. I get this as we don’t begin to have the language and must communicate in English. I end up with way too much sour cherry Strüdel, stale bread and passable cheese. Kitty gets some potato things she is happy with. We walk along the river looking for our ferry, and finally find it.  I eat cherry Strüdel in the sun while we wait. We’d reviewed the details of the May 2019 Budapest ferry disaster last night, so intentionally ride on the deck, noting where the life vests are stored. The views are wonderful and it’s fun to be on the water. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

We disembark at the second Margaret Island stop. It feels good to be surrounded by trees. There’s a path for runners along the edge split between bikes, walkers and runners. Other folks make their way about in queer fringed surreys. We walk past the “Grand Hotel” that reminds me of a Thomas Mann novel. There’s a half-naked old man doing calisthenics on the balcony. We find a quiet bench overlooking a large field where dogs play to eat our picnic. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

We ride a bus off the island and then catch a tram to the New York Café. Now this place is known as the fanciest café around. It is from a different era (fin de siècle) and clearly grander than anything today has the right to be. I’d actually thought we might enjoy a coffee (a simple Café Americano), but gave that thought up the minute we enter the door. There’s a violinist playing. It reminds me of the Plaza Hotel before Trump bought it, maybe even grander. Kitty accuses me of reverse snobbery. I snap a couple of shots and we fly out of there. We end up in a wine bar down the street. It’s a bit overpriced as well, but after spending only a couple of minutes in the New York Café, it feels downright homey. We enquire about buying a bottle of wine from their substantial offerings, but the waitress warns us we should go down the street if we want more to avoid “restaurant prices.” I’m pleased we at least don’t look as though we’re out to waste our money. We move on and buy a perfectly suitable $5.00 bottle of wine on the way. 

Back home I nap and Kitty putzes. We ate our last meal in Budapest at a wonderful restaurant, Barack és Szilva étterem. We split our dishes of roasted duck and pork. There was a man playing a hammer dulcimer in classical style. Nothing Appalachian about it though, more Mozart and film scores. The service was impeccable. I’d called that afternoon to make a reservation and we were able to get a table at 6:30. I was surprised to find the place basically full, as I sat and watched them turn away multiple customers who didn’t have reservations. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Tonight was meant to be our ruin bar hopping experience. I was feeling a bit of a pull after dinner. Kitty was resistant. I get her to go into one bar, but the drinks are so overpriced and the bartender so rude, that I give in. We are the oldest people in the place (maybe the oldest people in the entire neighborhood), and we decide we had enough to drink and certainly enough fun for one day. On the way up to our apartment, we ride with a grim man in the elevator. I follow him when the door opens, and am horrified to see him going into our apartment! Then I hear Kitty calling and realize we weren’t even on our floor. I’m now very relieved we didn’t continue drinking as I’d clearly had enough! We retreat to our proper apartment to finish our packing and are in bed asleep by 9:00PM.