Budapest: Hungary for More!

I've always wanted to visit Budapest and for years now I've been talking about it.  My roommate in college, Sarah, went with her parents when we were living together and I remember her bragging about how amazing it was.  I spent a month in Prague in July of 2008 and thought I'd get the chance to head to Hungary then, but unfortunately, I never did.  A few weeks ago I started thinking about the time I'd have off for spring break and I searched flights to many nearby countries.  I considered Croatia, Switzerland and many others, but Budapest ended up being the place I chose.  The flight wasn't so expensive and being that I had 6 full days off, I thought it'd be the perfect time to go.

Last Thursday evening, I took the bus/metro/coach/airplane to Budapest and arrived in town late that evening around midnight or shortly after.  I had researched before arriving and I knew there was a shuttle that I could get to my hostel, even that late at night.  Sure enough, I got my tickets and I headed towards the Jewish district.  I had booked two nights at the Treestyle Hostel which was in a perfect location.  The two different staff members I dealt with throughout my time there were super helpful and the hostel itself was decently nice.  I say decently because I have pretty high standards when it comes to cleanliness and I was disappointed that the bathrooms weren't all that clean, but for the price of the place, it wasn't something I complained about.  I was just very careful to keep my flip flops on when I was walking around to and from showers, etc. 

I woke up on Friday morning and headed out towards the city center.  I had picked up a brochure for Free Walking Tours and I new which direction to head since I had downloaded a few free apps on my iphone.  I walked first past the second largest synagogue in the world, the Dohany Street Synagogue, and then on towards the downtown area.  I had my map, but I more or less walked aimlessly for the first part of the day.  I took pictures along the Danube of Castle Hill, the Chain Bridge, the Royal Palace, etc.  I got a few shots of interesting architecture.  I made my way down Vaci St and then to the Great Central Market.  This was such a cool place.  I had time to walk around the many stalls and bought a couple of souvenirs as well as some dried fruit (which lasted me all the way through my flight home yesterday).  The dried pineapple was my favorite, but I also had apricots that were quite tasty. 

After the market I walked around a bit more looking for a place to have lunch.  I found a side street with a restaurant (I try to steer clear of main roads when I'm looking for food in a new place) and "settled for" the goulash.  In all honesty, it wasn't settling as it's just what I wanted.  I ordered a bowl which came with bread and I also got a nice big beer.  The goulash was good, but not as flavorful as I expected.  Maybe it was the restaurant's take on it, maybe it was a watered down version, I don't know, but I was expecting a bit of a kick and there was none. 

I wanted to do the afternoon free walking tour of the city so I went over to the square at St Stephens Basilica a bit early, stopped at a Starbucks for a treat and free wifi, and waited for the tour to begin.  It lasted from 2:30-5:30 and was SO GOOD.  We walked all over and got great tips on the city, an abundance of history and other useful information, and ended the tour up near the Fisherman's Wharf. 

One of the guides mentioned that he was in a band and playing that night, so I decided to head back to the hostel to nap and then I went out to hear him play.  The show was at this place called the Drunken Taylor which was a 15-20 minute walk from my hostel.  I went alone and got a beer at the bar, then immediately heard some English coming from a nearby booth, so I ended up making small talk and they invited me to join them.  There were three American girls and their couch surfing hosts from Budapest.  Others joined but I didn't really chat with them too much.  It was a fun evening as I love any kind of live music and I had "friends" to talk with so I really enjoyed myself.

Saturday morning I got up and had to check out of the hostel so my new adventure began when Eszter (my Air BnB host) came to pick me up.  We walked about 5 minutes to the apartment I was renting a room in for the remainder of my stay.  I settled in there quickly and then headed out to hit a few of the places I'd seen on the previous day's tour but wanted better pictures of (it had rained during most of our walk so pics were a bit dark).  I also wanted to get a better idea of the city so I'd know exactly where I was going the next few days.  I headed down the Champs Elysees of Budapest (Andrassy Ave) and went to the House of Terror.  It's a museum dedicated to those who fell victim to the communists.  Nice museum, although I wish I had more knowledge before I went because it was hard to follow some of the information.

After the museum I planned to do another free walking tour but the weather was bad and I was quite cold so I had lunch (sausage from a street vendor) and wandered over to the basilica again to have a cup of hot chocolate and get out of the rain.  It was the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted.  Milk chocolate with orange and it was thick and creamy and delicious.  So good I went back on Monday for another cup!  I was freezing even after the coco so I decided to go home and change into my bathing suit to hit the Szechenyi Baths (warm water and steam rooms on a rainy day sounded like a good idea).  Back in February, I wrote about the crazy experience of visiting Acqua World with Matteo for his birthday.  The baths in Budapest were an older version of this, minus the water slides. 

After you pay the front desk, you walk into a locker room for both sexes where you find a tiny room with two doors, one on each side of you.  The stalls reminded me of where the horses are kept before a race.  You change and, "on your mark, get set, go" to the pools.  Walking around in a bathing suit has never been one of my favorite past times and neither is sitting in a pool with hundreds of other strangers.  I can manage a friend's pool or a pool at an apartment complex if there are a few people, but this is not the same thing.  You wander around until, like Goldilocks, you find a pool with just the right temperature.  You settle into a nice spot with your new friends all soaking in one another's filth.  It grosses me out just thinking about it.  I lasted about 10 minutes before I got up and headed to a sauna.  At least here you're not floating around in that water.  Staying in the sauna would have been the best bet for me, but after half an hour I was a bit dehydrated and dizzy so I headed back out to the pools.  I had booked an evening massage so I had about an hour to fill so back to the cesspool it was...ick.  All of this is made worse when you're alone and thinking about it rather than talking with friends and enjoying what's meant to be a relaxing time.  Luckily, I had two Americans on my right and not long after sitting down, a Scottish guy came and plopped next to me on the left.  I chatted with all the guys a bit and the time passed a bit more quickly.  Then the "fun" began.

I went upstairs and sat (again I'm only in my bathing suit) in the waiting room/lobby for my massage.  After 15 minutes or so the receptionist (I guess you can call her that) escorts me to a room.  I'm told to lie down face first and take off my top.  This leave me with only my bottoms on and did I mention I'm not on a table with a sheet, but rather a pad on the floor and nothing to cover with.  A few minutes later I hear an "Ok?" from outside the curtain.  I said yes and in enters my massage therapist.  I don't see him, but he quickly straddles me, yes, that's what I said, and begins his massage.  Other than the fact that I've got a stranger sitting on my back while I'm half naked, I am able to relax a little and get into the massage.  He never speaks and after an hour of work, he disappears.  Not a word.  I'm left, still half naked, lying on the floor wondering what to do next.  I've had some crazy massages all over the world now but this, by far, was one of the weirdest.  There was that time in China Town in London, but I digress.  After I put my top back on I walked back to the locker rooms to get changed and I headed home for a much needed shower.  I think I spent half an hour bathing trying to get the water, and the memory of the stranger, off my skin. 

I went out to dinner on Saturday night at a place called 400 which was about 5 minutes from the apartment.  The food was good, not fantastic, but decent.  I had a Serbian burger that the bartender suggested.  I had three giant beers over the course of a few hours and I met a lovely girl from Budapest and a nice guy (bartender) from Spain.  He was funny because he asked me early on in the night why I was alone, then he made a point to come back to me several times and ask more questions...each time sneaking up on me from another direction.  He was also busing tables so he was wandering around the place a bit.  It was a funny night and I was given tons of suggestions about where to go after, but given that I was in rain boots and a cardigan, I didn't think clubbing was an option.  I also planned to get up early for church the next day so I went home around 11.

Sunday morning came and I headed out to a cafe on Andrassy before going to church.  I ended up sitting at a table next to four American girls (English teachers in Spain) and chatting with them a few minutes over tea before I walked to church.  I had found this English speaking Scottish Presbyterian church on the web and because it was near, decided to check it out for Easter Sunday.  I walked in an the pastor greeted me in an obvious American accent.  I sat through the service trying my best to focus on his sermon but very distracted by a little boy who literally was running down the aisle screaming and stomping his feet.  His father didn't do anything but yell his name a few times.  I don't know how the pastor was able to concentrate on his message but I sure kept praying that the Lord would take care of that distraction.  It was nearly impossible to focus.  We had the Lord's supper at the end of the service and I was able to stay after for lunch.  As I was talking to the pastor, I learned that not only was he American, but he's from Florence, SC!  What a small world.  It's crazy that the one church I chose was a place where someone from my state was preaching.  The Lord works in mysterious ways for sure. 

After our Easter dinner of ham, pasta salad, and an assortment of soups, I offered to do the dishes.  I thought I'd start and someone else would join me, but no, I was at the church for an hour or more after we ate washing everyone's plates!  There was a cute little man who was from Serbia, I think, who put an apron on me and he did actually dry the dishes and put them all away.  I guess he wanted to thank me for my help because he went and got the chalice of wine from the Lord's supper and offered it to me!  Then the pastor came in later and gave me a box of jelly beans as a thank you.  Too funny.

Hmmm...Sunday afternoon was a good one as I went home to change into warmer clothes and then met the free walking tours for the Jewish tour.  It lasted the same amount of time but was led by a different guide and went only through the Jewish district.  We saw some great places of historic relevance, but also learned about some cool, trendy new places called ruin bars.  We visited one called Szimpla, which is where we ended our tour.  It's the neatest place, like a junk yard really, but super cool bar space.  I didn't drink anything there, but rather asked the guide where to get dinner and went to Koleves just down the road.  I hadn't eaten much at lunch at church so I ordered a salad and a venison stew.  Delicious.  After this huge meal and a beer, I went home and called it a night.  It was early, only like 7, but I was exhausted.  I watched a few movies in Hungarian, and I'll say that even in a foreign language, Marley and Me is a tear jerker!

Monday morning I got up and headed out full stop.  I went back to Castle Hill for better pics (sunshine finally) and had my pastry horn.  I walked down to the cafe, Puncs, where I had the amazing hot chocolate before and this time ordered one with cinnamon.  I sat inside out of the cold waiting for the communist tour to begin, but I was a wimp and went home out of the cold instead.  I had checked weather prior to the trip and I expected rain, but not the temperature we had.  Don't tell Carol Poole this, but on my last day, I took a two or three hour nap!  I just couldn't walk any more. 

After I woke up I went out to Hero's Square and walked around the city park a bit so I'd feel like I was accomplishing a bit more sightseeing then I had dinner at a place that a friend had suggested.  I had two glasses of Hungarian wine, the chicken paprikash, and a huge chocolate fondant at Cafe Vian.  Perfect way to spend a few hours my last night in town. 

I went back to the house and tried to pack and go to bed early, but I didn't sleep much that night.  I woke up at 3:15 on Tuesday morning to get my coach back to the airport for a 6 am flight.  Standing on the street waiting for the driver, a nice British boy came by and asked if I was ok.  He and I made small talk after his friend walked away and before the driver came and I was off. 

When I went to Dublin I smiled, rather foolishly and uncontrollably, riding in the coach from the airport.  Somehow, even heading back to a place I am not super thrilled to be living, I had that same giddy smile on my face.  I think it hit me that I'm going home in 33 days and I just was so thankful to have had such an amazing time in Budapest.  I've learned so much about myself this past year and it's such a blessing that I've been able to do it traveling the world.  I've learned to really appreciate all the opportunities I've had and although I've had plenty of journeys, I'm still "hungary for more."

In Good Company

Two years ago, just before Easter, I joined First Baptist Church of Mt. Pleasant, SC.  I had been visiting off and on, but after a pretty big scare with a friend, I committed to get back to church where I belonged.  I really enjoyed the fellowship I had with my new church family, and just like leaving my friends and biological family, I had a hard time saying goodbye to them. 

When I arrived in Dublin, I was pleasantly surprised to find a nice church just minutes from my apartment.  It was a small congregation, but a friendly one.  I attended almost every Sunday while I was in Ireland.  I really enjoyed making friends there and having that time each week.  It was especially nice, when on my last Sunday with them, the pastor made the announcement that I'd be leaving and they all said goodbye and gave best wishes.

Coming to Italy has been a little different for me.  I didn't seek out a church because I assumed, and was too lazy to research it, that it would be difficult for me to find an English speaking church.  I've watched my pastor from home on a few internet sermons, but I haven't made the effort to get out there and find a church.  With Easter quickly approaching, I was beginning to feel even more disconnected from my Christian family.  My friend Katy and I attempted to go to a Palm Sunday evening service last week, but we arrived at the church only to find they weren't holding evening services.  It was a disappointment for sure.  Even though it was in Italian, it would have been nice to attend.

As I was walking home the other day, I passed my neighbor, and elderly woman from NY.  I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but she has lived here 40+ years and she's American, she must know where an English church would be.  Sure enough, not one hour after I asked her, she brought me the name of an Episcopal church very near the Duomo.  I checked the website that night and found that they were holding an "English for Fun" meeting on Tuesday night (that would be the next night).  I was so excited!  I told Katy, and on Tuesday, we headed over to the church. 

It was a bit of a let down in the sense that there was no Christian fellowship, no prayer, nothing at all resembling a church meeting, BUT it was a great time.  There were four Italian women, one Irish woman (you know I loved her) and two British men, one my age.  The meeting was/is held to help non-native speakers learn English.  It wasn't a lesson, but games to encourage speaking.  We were given crepes with Nutella and wine, which I found hilarious.  The meeting was in the church after all.  I'm just not used to that being a Southern Baptist!  The strangest part of the evening was at the end when the leader said, "we like to encourage you to give a little something to help support the church, so if you'll put 10 euro in the basket, we'd appreciate it."  I wouldn't have minded giving an offering, but again, I would have appreciated a prayer or blessing or something to quench my thirst for Christian fellowship!  It was also strange that they were "encouraging" us to give, but then specified exactly what to give.  Oh well, it was an interesting evening and it got me out of the house for a few hours so I'm happy I went.  I'll certainly try one of the Sunday sermons over at All Saints Anglican Episcopal Church, and oddly enough, Katy found another English church for us to try!    I'm also excited because I've found a Scottish Presbyterian Church to attend in Budapest for Easter...I'm just determined to get to church soon, and be in the company of other Christians.

It Still Stings...

Months ago, 4 to be exact, I had a break up after a short but serious relationship.  It was serious in the fact that my feelings were real for this person and although the circumstances were a bit out of the ordinary, I meant it when I said I love you.  I think he meant it too.  In November, however, we ended the relationship due to two major issues. 

The first big issue was his; he wanted me to commit to being with him in the UK and I couldn't do that, not so early on in our relationship.  I am born and raised a Charleston girl and due to my overwhelming love for family and friends there, I wasn't ready to uproot, permanently.  The second issue was mine; he lost his faith and I needed (need) someone strong enough to support me in mine.  There were other smaller issues, but these two were the ones that we argued most about. 

In the days before the breakup, we discussed many options for our (my) future.  I considered moving to be with him, I considered doing my PhD, I considered teaching...are you noticing a pattern?  I considered my life and where I was heading, but I didn't consider how it would affect him.  This became the basis for a later argument.  My selfishness was something I never really noticed until he pointed it out, and made a huge case of it.  I was hurt, but my eyes were opened to something. 

In the months following the breakup, I continued to consider my life and my future (it's still something I have to figure out).  I moved to Italy and pondered all my options.  Would I stay in Italy, would I move home, would I go to another city and try to find my way there?  I believe that things happen for a reason and I'll end up where the Lord wants me, but it's hard in the moment trying to understand what the plan is.  That's been a prayer of mine for a while...let me have faith that the plan is in action...let me have faith that the Lord knows what he's doing...let me be aware of the way the Lord is working in my life so I can see the path He wants me to follow.  All of this is difficult, but I am trying.

In the past few weeks I've had a more positive attitude about life and I've been even more appreciative of all that I've accomplished or had the opportunity to participate in.  I've thought a lot about the x and I've said prayers for him too, because I honest to goodness want him to be happy.  It's hard for me because I don't like it when people are upset with me.  That may be me being selfish still, but I want people to be happy with me; I need to know things are ok between us.  Unfortunately, I'm having to swallow a big pill here and accept that things are not ok with this one particular person and there isn't anything I can do about it. 

I happened to notice on Facebook today that I've been removed from his "friends" list.  This is something that shouldn't bother me, but despite everything, it still stings.  I'm blessed in the fact that I have so many friends and family members that love me and they are blessed in the fact that most of them are moving along beginning their own families, so I praise God for that.  I'm trying to go against any selfish ways I once had and just be completely happy for them...to be thankful they've found happiness and that I'm part of it, even in the smallest of ways.  I hope that I can take the lessons I've learned in the past year, many of them from the x, and apply them to my life so I can continue to grow.  I hope that I'll remember to hold my head high and to continue to appreciate all that life has to offer.  I hope that whether or not I ever speak to the x again, he forgives me for any part I played in hurting him.  I hope that the Lord will give me peace with it so I can forgive him, and myself, and move on.