Szia! We are actually in Budapest, Pearl of the Danube (Duna in Magyar). My impressions continue to swing from absolute wonder to troubling confusion, but it is all part of the life-changing experience.
We arrived in Pest on a sweaty, late summer night. Our first home was the Hostel Marco Polo, in a room stuffed with three cots and our remaining belongings, which are still very few. We decided it was best to fight the jet lag and get on with our second day as if we had not just exited a cramped Polish plane (LOT...no leg room, eighties era head phones, but food and drink on the half hour) after a 25 hour hop over the pond. I was not accustomed to this late summer, urban heat. The narrow, brick paved streets radiated so much of the sunlight and this, combined with humidity steaming off of the nearby Duna, made for a sauna-like experience. But, never mind that. It was my first day in this amazing Central European city. I simply dressed ( or undressed, rather) for the occasion and headed out to explore with Boone and Aidan. From the Marco Polo we walked down to the river front and sampled some of the street food. Each of us ate a little pizza-like creation covered in local cheese and bits of ham (sonka). Against our environmental convictions, we also carried around bottled water...we later realize that Budapest tap water is quite drinkable and gave up that particular vice. Down at the river front, I was tickled pink to spot, marching down the promenade, a small group of performers, wearing silly masks and hats, one guy juggling, and two riding unicycles with casual ease. This reminded me of home, Portland, Oregon, where delightful absurdity abounds. The pedestrian and bike friendly Chain Bridge was within walking distance, so we crossed the river into Buda, to the base of Castle Hill. By this time the heat, jet lag, and our full bellies were conspiring against our will to stay awake and we headed back over the bridge to the Marco Polo for an afternoon snooze. It just couldn't be helped. x
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