written and photographed by Mary L. Peachin
Sep 1998, Vol. 2 No. 11
As darkness falls over the swift, silt-colored Danube, the cities of Buda and Pest, divided by the river, come to life. Violins waft lively Gypsy music through the cobblestone streets, and it flows past Hungarians and visitors, all out for a stroll through Buda’s Vaci district and along the Pest riverfront. Magnificent, eclectic architecture-historic monuments and grand buildings, blemished in the daylight-glow under the spotlights of the evening.
Budapest is magical, but the appeals of Hungary lie beyond the city and encompass both urban and rural. The history, architecture, language, cuisine, and people of this Central European country offer enough interest that visitors can spend weeks or months here, and still not have seen everything.
From the moment of our arrival in Budapest, we were thrown into the life of the city. At the airport, public announcements in a variety of languages encourage arriving passengers to use public minibuses to reach their hotels. We did so, heeding the advice of other travelers-who had warned us of unscrupulous taxi drivers charging outrageous fares-and relying mostly on public transportation throughout our trip.
A “Budapest card,” sold by the day or week, covers travel on all public transportation and entrance fees for several major museums. The city’s transport options-buses, an underground metro, the tram along the Danube, and the funicular to Buda Hills- are easy to use, even for tourists who speak little Hungarian. Our one inevitable “bus adventure” (in which we missed our Metro connection and ended up riding the bus to the end of the line) was not too bad-the driver looked at our map and on the trip back showed us our exit.
Though hotel prices have been rising recently, Budapest’s five-star hotels are still inexpensive by Western European standards-averaging $x per night-and are centrally located. The Intercontinental Forum and the Marriott both offer views of the Danube, backed by the Buda Hills, or of the Royal Palace and Liberation Monument, Kiflish Zsuzsa, silhouetted against the skyline.
The concierge at our hotel, the Forum, helped us get tickets to the opera and ballet, and dinner reservations. He also handled train tickets to Prague, securing reliable taxi service to and from the train station. In a city where communication can be difficult (most Hungarians speak little English, and the language is difficult for English speakers), this service was invaluable.
Once situated at our hotel, it was time to explore the city. Hungary has been ruled by the Romans, Huns, Teutons, and Magyars. In the 20th century, the country has seen more than its share of hardship-a restrictive Communist government plus the ravages of two world wars. By the end of World War II, 400,000 Hungarian Jews had died in German concentration camps.
Remnants of this diversified history offer a landscape dotted with Roman ruins, Turkish mosques, cathedrals topped by Russian minarets. The sterile concrete monoliths of Communist-era apartment blocks line up across from wonderfully ornate Art Nouveau museums. Bronze and marble sculpture is everywhere, paying tribute or memorializing past heroes. Jewish synagogues dot the city, each magnificent Gothic edifice housing a Holocaust memorial.
Szechenyi Chain Bridge, built in 1849 was the first permanent bridge to span the Danube. Today it is one of the significant landmarks of Budapest. During our visit, in July the bridge was closed to traffic for a daylong festival celebrating its 150th anniversary. Bands played continuously; the tunnel through the Buda hills was filled with artisan booths; citizens of Buda and Pest played a symbolic game of tug-of-war. The celebration culminated with fireworks and a laser show at midnight.
Hungarians relish the visual and performing arts; the pride of Budapest is the 1884 Magyar Allami Operahaz, home to the national opera and ballet. Gold leaf, marble, and frescoes that adorn the outside of the building are matched only by the costumes and set design for the productions within. We got a great shot of culture enjoying both an opera and a ballet during our short visit.
One of the city’s largest indoor markets, Kozponti Vasarcsarnok (Central Market Hall), provides a real taste of Hungary. The three floors of this 19th century building house vendors selling produce, sausage, meats (predominantly organ parts), live fish, and a profusion of paprika, chili, and garlic.
In the restaurants, paprika and more paprika dusts goulash, meat (including a variety of organ meats), duck and goose, and cabbage with gravy and dumplings. Carp and pike-perch are the most prevalent fish served. And though Hungarian cuisine is tasty, it can pose a challenge for vegetarians, or for those who want to eat light. Hungarian beer has a full, fresh flavor and the red Bikaver (“Bull’s Blood”) wine of Eger is excellent.
Many Americans confine their visit to Hungary to Budapest, but the countryside offers its own enticements. We followed our time in the city with a three-day road trip.
We first headed 64 miles northeast to Eger, stopping on the way at the ancient Paloc village of Holloko. The single cobblestone street entering the town divides at a 14th-century church with a wooden towerFrom the church you can walk a loop returning back to the church.
After lunch in Holloko, we continued on toward Eger, following the walls of an old mosque along the narrow, twisting two-lane roads between Holloko and Eger. The Turkish influence on the architecture (the mosque was built in 1841) is evident, despite the fact that today only the 110-foot minaret remains whole.
We soon reached Eger, where many visitors seek out the warm waters of the Turkish baths. We followed a couple carrying towels hoping they would lead us to the public bath. Unfortunately they were returning from the bath to their hotel. By the time we located the heated pool, it was closed for the day.
We headed to the outskirts of Eger to an area called Szepasszony-Volgy (The Valley of Beautiful Women). During the 16th century, the women of Eger fought for 38 days to help defend Hungary from the Turks. Named in tribute to these women, this area features 50 wine cellars built into the side of a mountain. We toured several wineries, several of which include music with their wine tasting, encouraging boisterous songs from less-than-sober visitors. During our “tasting”, we discovered the rich flavoured Bikaver, so deep in ruby red that it is referred in Hungarian as the “blood of the bull.” Without hesitation, we bought a plastic container of Bikaver to enjoy during our visit, and a bottle to take home, to slip later with fond memories.
We took some time to recuperate from the wine tasting, and the next morning drove south through verdant farm land toward the Great Plains of Hungary and the city of Szeged. Fertile fields of wheat and corn and fruit orchards covered the region. Interspersed were poppy fields-the green poppy bulbs, filled with opium, would be dried for use as poppy seeds, a common ingredient in Hungarian cuisine.
Maneuvering a rental car along narrow, barely-two-lane Hungarian roads was quite harrowing. Cars from both directions passed us at high speeds. Near Szeged, we were briefly pulled over at a military roadblock set up to search for Romanian refugees. The police, hearing us speak English, waved us through without a search.
At our next stop, Szeged, we met up with Gyorgy Pollak, my distant cousin. Unaware that he had any living relatives until the concierge at the Intercontinental Hotel helped us locate him, Gyorgy was a gracious host. He gave us a very personalized tour of his town, known as the paprika capital of Hungary, and introduced us to his wife, children, and grandchildren. Over lunch, Gyorgy told us of how he lost his family in the Holocaust: when his parents divorced in the late 1930s, he was sent to live with an aunt in Budapest. The move spared his life, although none of his family survived.
The following day we continued our drive, aiming for Pecs, a modern town framed by the ruins of a 2000-year-old walled city. In Pecs, we were welcomed warmly and immediately.
Waiting for a bus to take us from our pension in the hills down to the village square, we were joined by an elderly couple. They had just returned from an orchard with three full pails of cherries. I took their photograph, and they poured handfuls of sweet cherries into our shopping bag.
In Pecs, we visited the Jewish synagogue and the Turkish mosque, then toured the art museum of Victor Vasarely. We ate dinner in an outdoor café, watching the strolling townspeople. Near dusk, a group of bare-midriffed college women strolled by, laughing and trying to navigate the cobblestones in their platform heels.
We were sorry to leave Hungary, and could have spent more time in the city and the countryside. We left by train, and during the seven-hour ride to Prague, our next destination, traded stories based in pleasant memories of the country and its people.