Budapest Diary - Day 5

Vaci ut comes alive in the evening. You could find all kinds of people here. Today was no different – serious shoppers, tourists lazing in the cafes, old people clicking photographs, young girls ogling at the shop windows, little children running around, people distributing all kinds of pamphlets, beggars and the “statues” – people posing as statues for money. There were three of them – the traveler, the clown and the Arabian Sheikh. A little girl seemed to be enchanted by him. She was straining forward, trying to loosen the grip her mother had on her little hand. As I approached Vorosmarty Ter, the faint notes of music attracted me. To my disappointment there was no public performance happening at the square, but sitting there was an old man, playing tunes on a row of glasses filled with water…

On the right of Vaci Ut, starts a small but one of the most famous streets links Vorosmarty Ter with Deak Ferenc Ter. Lined with beautiful orange lamps on both sides, two grand hotels rise up from it – the Corvinus Kempinsky and the Le Meridien. Lined with shops selling the most famous brands of apparel, this is Fashion Street, a place, God knows how, Pragati missed.

I wanted to taste some nice Hungarian pastries, but the lady at the cake shop said: “I’m sorry, none of these are specifically Hungarian traditional dishes. They are all from other parts of Europe.” That would do for now. I chose a chestnut cake. So much sweet for the day…during lunch I had already feasted on a poppy seed strudel.

The narrow corridor outside my room looks eerie. A red carpet with yellow patterns and the white walls stretch all the way to the distance. The corridor reminds me of the spooky overlook hotel in “The Shining”.

The HEV train to the city passes through the old suburbs of Buda. Unlike the clean and polished structures on the Pest side, the apartments of Buda have a worn-out look. Graffiti adorns every wall. There was even an Indian restaurant, which I pointed out to snag.

“They would be using MTR ready-to-eat stuff for serving the customers” she remarked.

“They would also add Paprika along with it,” I added.

The subway at the station was extremely deserted. “This looks like the place where murder scenes usually happen in our Bollywood movies” Snag said. “And our hotel corridor looks like the place where there are usually ghosts”. Strange indeed!

We wanted to catch the bus, but ended up walking to office, since I got the bus stop wrong. We reached the office just as the bus pulled up next to it. I told her: “See, we did not get late by walking. Even if we had waited, there would have been no guarantee that we would have got in. We have to stand in queue for that”

“They should allow standing in the bus!” she said. “It is so much better without the queue system. You can just push your way in – no need to wait”

“Europeans are very much like Indians” she said, as we walked back to the hotel, “except for the color!” We have been having this argument for some time now. It was 5:30 in the evening, and Vaci ut was slowly coming alive. A one-year old girl was tottering around, unaware of her mother calling. I pointed her out to Snag and remarked: “A Namratha in the making!” The little girl was looking at a huge display of shoes.