seeing budapest

You can follow guidebooks and suggested walking tours, but you can also walk the way the wind blows. Taking a corner here. Ducking into a doorway there. This is the way to see a city. The way to notice it's details and flow.

My appreciation for Budapest lies in these details. The architectural touches that hover above the street. Stained glass that stretches across hidden galleries. Statues standing alone in the cold grey afternoon.



There is no way to fill the guidebooks with everything an eye can catch. It is my firm belief that a visitor is best served by taking coffee and then taking a walk. The caffeine propels you forward, while the views unroll for blocks.



I also believe that photos never really do moments their justice. It's fairly impossible to capture the way the light truly hits a ceiling of glass from behind. The way the wind cuts across your neck. And the honking car that caught your attention and made you turn in this direction. The photos never really explain it all.



But I can tell you that the coffee was strong and not nuanced the way our neighborhood bar makes it. The wind was crisp but not insistent. The light was dull... distant. The leaves were brown and yellow and crunched under the feet of Budapest. Our backs hurt from hours in the museum and our hands were in our pockets because we'd forgotten our gloves. It wasn't raining yet and there were long blankets of cloud stuffed into the sky. The cakes were too sweet and the people were smoking.

I can tell you that Budapest is grand and gorgeous. And there is so much more to see.