So this is Budapest!

Arriving very ate last night meant I had the luxury of a lie in and a relaxed breakfast. The cunning plan was to have a look around Budapest and be a tourist rather than a journeyman.  

But just let me pause a moment to show you where I am sleeping.  I jested to Charlie that I was I aria least siding.  What I hadn't known at the time (it being dark and late) I was indeed in a railway siding. Well trams actually. 

I decided to make full use of this opportunity and I would leave my bike at the campsite safely tucked away in my tent. This would allow Wistful and I the opportunity to simply wander and explore.  Quick bus ride into town and the day was set.  I jumped off the bus on the very beautiful Queen Elizabeth bridge so as to take the "I have arrived" picture. We look as we felt, joyful. 

This is going to be a bit if a whistle stop tour but bear with me as there are a few details of very poignant interest. The first major sight were the Parliment buildings. No coincidence that they look like a very baroque styling of out the ones in London.  In fact there is an awful lot baroque about this city.  

As I wandered around 'Pest' (oh? did you know it's two cities? Budda and Pest.  Divided by the Danube but conjoined by name 'Budapest') I was struck by the obvious beauty and the gentle pace of life in the centre.  Everyone seemed to have time for each other and as a solo traveller I took great delight in dispensing with selfie sticks and taking duo pictures of lovers in the city. I think you know what I mean.  It's a small gift to anyone and I applaude it's use.  

St Stephens Basilica was just amazing.  It was a fine piece of Gothic art and very ornate and gold.  The picture shows the outside but inside was breathtaking.  As I sat in a PEW (sorry about the pee in my last church post) I gazed up at the ceiling and began to question.  Uh oh... never a good sign.  So did the Catholic Church adopt a grand style of decoration to entertain the congregation or was it the desire to set about creating a realm far grander, so high, so out of reach of common man that it illustrated the divine power of god? Jus a simple musing, one of many I might add. None the less I appreciate the workmanship and the imagery.  The paintings of Christ were remarkable.  But it had to be said it was my least favourite church compared to Vienna and Passau.  

But the dome needed to be climbed.  My legs cried "Nooooooo".  "But think of the blog" I said in return as I set out on the 362 steps. It was worth it.  I loved the fact the storm was brewing in the distance.  

I then decided to simply wander and came across various monuments.  At first I thought they were a celebration and to be applauded but I'd like to tell you about this one.  When I saw it I was struck by the angel and I felt the eagle looked very menacing, like an alien, a predator about to strike.  

Directly confronting this monument was one of another kind. This one involved various momentous and pictures attached to barbed wire.  In closer inspection I find it is keepsakes and photos of Jews who were persecuted and killed in the gas chambers.   Apparently there is a huge movement by those who remember to have the angel eagle monument torn down. It had been erected surreptitiously in the dead of night and was so against the knowledge or wishes of the people of Hungary. It was erected to commemorate the German occupation of Hungary on March 19 1944.  Subsequently after much complaint the wording was changed to a more 'PC'commemoration of the victims but alas the original meaning is still what everyone seesand feels despite the politically correct amendments. 

 

I began to feel a different current running through this town and it wasn't just the river.  When I happened across a guided tour in front if another monument the crowd were asking the guide if he would stand in front of it so as to have his picture taken.  "Why would I stand in front of a monument to communist repression? I'd rather have my picture taken in front of a tree". True words. 

Now it's time for my confession.  As a teenager I used to take great delight in taunting my grandfather about how I was going to be a communist. It used to drive home nuts and he would go red in the face and shout at me that I knew nothing of what it meant... He had after all fought in the war. I think after my visit to Budapest I have begun to Grandpa and I am truly sorry for the pain it must have caused you. I was but a rebelling teenager with idealism buried in communism.  But in subsequent years I have always admired the design behind the propaganda material.  I still have that passion for Russian constructivism and probably will retain it.  But I think perhaps naively.  I will make it my business to just do some research into Hungary and it's part in the genocide of many thousands of Jews, gypsies, gays and immigrants.  To round off this sober text I want to just show you the monument to those who perished.  The following picture shows iron sculptured shoes depicting those from all walks of life who were murdered. They stand on the walkway facing the Danube.  A chilling but beautiful image. 

So not all is light being a tourist.  I'm so very glad I managed to see these sights. 

My bones were now weary and my feet sore from walking many many miles.  I made my way to one of the ancient Turkish baths and spent the next hour or so bathing the aches and pains of this trip away.  I have a lot to think about and plenty of material to keep me musing for quite some time. This has been a mammoth journey from coast to canal to river to source.  Tonight I shall seep well.

Crossing the road... A magnificent water fountain.  In order to cross the road you had to have faith that the curtain if water would stop and allow you to pass. I had the faith.  What an image.