Travel Essay: Budapest- a Born Gemini
Kristen Harkey lands heads up after she dives head first into a city with two faces.
It is well past midnight. I’ve been traveling for nine hours and the humidity is suffocating. Breathing in the sticky air fogs my brain - making me susceptible to naive traveler syndrome. I snap out of it as a burly Hungarian officer stamps my passport. He laughs at me as I walk away, which sparks my curiosity as to what was so funny. My friend Hailey and I slump our way outside in search of a taxi only to be greeted by more brutal sticky heat. I had been warned only certain taxi companies were safe to take in Budapest, but I only have one thing on my mind and that is getting to my hostel and falling fast asleep. However, the taxi driver had another plan for my friend and I.
It's not often that a European city suddenly transforms from bright shiny lights to complete darkness but when it does it's worth noting something is probably wrong. The battered air conditioner blows at my face adding to my unease. Suddenly I wish to be back at the airport. I’ve heard this story before- where two young girls hop in the wrong cab. But that’s what it’s always been- a story. My friend squeezes my hand in the darkness of the backseat of the taxi. My heart is pounding as I shake profusely using my free hand to reach into my purse- desperate for a sharp object. Finally…a pen. A pen and some acting skills that soon save Hailey and I from being another certain victim of sex trafficking. This was one face of Budapest but not the only one.
Hailey and I make it to the hostel safely even after the taxi driver shamelessly tries to rob us in the process of dropping us off. The following morning, a nervous calm heightened my senses as I stepped out into the busy street, a familiar feeling that occurs when I arrive in a foreign place that has yet to be seen. As we wander through the café-lined streets, I slowly and reluctantly soak up the atmosphere and the beautifully articulate architecture. This decrepit jewel of a city where all visible substance was sculpture, the balancing act beginning to come together. We began walking along the Margaret Bridge that connected us from Pest to Buda, starting backwards. To my right is the breathtaking view of the House of Parliament and in front of me is the equally magnificent Castle District. It is here that I leave behind the rustic views of Margaret Island and begin my upward climb to Fisherman’s Bastion towards Castle Hill of Buda.
We stand near the top of Castle Hill facing Pest, which is sprawled out in an array of pastel colors. The warm afternoon breeze blows fiercely, whipping my hair in all different directions. The scene plays out in slow motion as I gaze down from the terrifying edge to see the Danube cast in amazing shades of emerald. I gawk in awe at the magical sight and feel a tinge of guilt for having such feelings. To my surprise, I am having a wonderful day.
Later that evening, we relentlessly blend in with a random pub-crawl. They don’t blink an eye as we hit up multiple ruin bars in Budapest with our new group of friends. Inside of these bars are just the ruins of an abandoned building adorned with unique and quirky decorations. Our last stop is Szimpla Kert, which is the first and most-known ruin bar of Budapest. The chaotic array of ripped-up sofas, parts of a carousel, clusters of lampshades and chandeliers, bathtubs and unsteady benches are thrown together to create a live atmosphere where you can drink beer that is cheaper than water.
My feelings for Budapest are beginning to turn around. I was struggling to understand why, since my seedy arrival left me feeling uneasy. These intense feelings are pushing me forward, not allowing me to reflect back on the permanence of the past. I am having a secret love affair with Budapest and finding it increasingly hard to keep this a secret.
The next day is just as serene as we wander through lush parks and indulge in fragrant smells of food vendors throughout Heroes’ Square. And then our final night approaches. Hailey and I are on our way to what is known as the summer’s largest “Bath Party,” a literal translation of partying in the ancient thermal baths. Later that night we head to the nearby Széchenyi themal baths. I find that even the approaching thunderclouds couldn’t dampen my spirits. As we approach Széchenyi it is difficult to see at night, especially with the thousands of people scattered about. The grandness of the place is unmistakable and the way the light of the moon casts its light on the grotesque architecture was captivating. We spent the night meeting new people, dancing and splashing around in the baths, and avoiding floating used condoms until the late hours of the night.
I woke the next morning with a heavy heart and a pounding headache, maybe from the hangover or maybe from the tremendous emotional roller coaster over the last 48 hours. The skies are bright blue as the storm from the night before had left, seemingly inviting us to stay. Our two days in Budapest had been far from enough. However, our bags were packed and it was time for us to head out to our next stop on the map. We reluctantly and silently make our way to the airport as I try to ignore the pull that seems to be drawing me back in.
Budapest is known for it’s Janus-faced native- the two sides of the river, but there is a beautiful city to be discovered despite its dark features. I will always look back on Budapest as a city of vulnerability and naïve invincibility. That is the dark side. There is beauty here, though. I see it. Budapest is a vibrant, colorful city that is something similar to what I’ve seen before but not like this.
My opinion of Budapest has completely changed. All of it- the grimy stained-glass windows caked with dirt, the sybaritic baths, the lovers kissing on the Chain Bridge and the deteriorating ancient buildings that saturated with romance as the sun perfectly grazes it on its way down. All of which feast at the eyes with wild and odd juxtapositions that slowly charm its way under my skin. Even the floating condoms in the thermal bath and the hints of communist flashbacks that still remain unhidden throughout the city aren’t enough to push out my inner enchantment. Little did I know from the moment I had survived that taxi ride just how deeply the sense of poetic despondency that floods this city would echo throughout my soul bringing out the light in something I never thought was possible.
