Glorious Views and Politically Flexible Artists - Budapest

Tuesday, I did almost nothing. After getting in around 3am the previous night, and having another bout of interrupted sleep, I didn't actually get going until about noon. I went to lunch with my parents in a nice little restaurant, after which we headed across the historic Széchenyi lánchíd (chain bridge) to the Buda side of the river to take a look at the sight of the old castle. The castle was destroyed by the Turks when they captured Budapest, and replaced by a palace when the Hungarians wrested it back.



We wandered all the way around the palace looking for various monuments, but wearied quickly of that, especially since we couldn't really find what it was we had come to see. The original intention was to scale the hill to get a better view of the city, but the weather was icky and all three of us were too tired to make the attempt. We resolved to do it on Wednesday, and follow that up with wine-tasting and sight-seeing in old-town Buda. Having thus decided, we stopped briefly to see the Országház (Hungarian parliament building), then went back to our respective residences and relaxed the rest of the evening away.


Up bright and early on Wednesday, my dad and I charged the Gellért hill, named after Szent Gellért, who was largely responsible for converting Hungary to Christianity, but was martyred by being thrown over this very hill in a barrel filled with snakes and nails.

At the top of the hill is the Citadella, built to fortify the city after an uprising, but never actually used. The monument at top was originally designed for the ultra right-wing government of the early 20th century, then passed off as a monument to the Soviet soldiers that captured Hungary from the Fascists, and is now a symbol of independence. The view from the top did not disapoint.


unfortunately, we found out the house of Hungarian Wines was closed for relocation, so we missed out on the wine-tasting. Instead, my dad and I met up with my mom for lunch, then headed to the House of Terror, a museum dedicated to the decades of despotic Soviet rule, especially the brutal quashing of the 1956 uprising. The museum was well put together, and was fairly powerful despite being almost entirely in Hungarian, but it was a bit pricey, and the English audio-guide that would have helped explain everything was even more expensive. After that, I said goodbye to my parents, and packed all of my stuff to make ready my departure. The train to Zagreb leaves at 6:05am...