Kate Hennessy : Freelance Writer

October 17, 2008: Budapest

I woke up on Day One at in Budapest feeling totally irrepressible. No-one in the world to answer to, except myself. Could this possibly be the first time I’d ever had that sensation? I’ve always dwelled deep in a pack of friends and family, so I wasn’t sure how traveling solo would pan out. But if the elation I felt that first morning in Budapest was anything to go by, things were gonna be just fine! I had a guide book, a day pack, some cheap maps and a blue sky to wander beneath. I’d stopped feeling as though I was disrespecting the locals if I spoke politely in English to those who understood me. Life felt so sweet and simple.

Pest-Buda cafe

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October 16/17/18/19, 2006: Budapest

My big Eastern European adventure began in Budapest. Milan was an overnighter and Venice a curiosity. Luckily, I loved Budapest, and here’s some of the reasons why.

Budapestians: Tough faces, denim on denim, purposeful strides, and hands stuffed deep in pockets. Lean, expressionless women wearing tight jeans & lots of eyeliner. Men who looked like they’ve been leaning into the wind for too long. Some quality people watching opportunities.

Two cities: Budapest is two cities, Buda and Pest, sliced in two by the Danube River. This is one of those things that’s kept strangely quiet until you visit, so it gives you a little ‘insiders’ thrill. Buda and Pest are very different but both locate some of their finest features riverside. Meaning, no matter which side of the river you’re on, the view is mighty fine!

Hero!

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October 16, 2008: Train

From the cheesy heart of Italy’s most romantic city, straight into the belly of the Eastern European beast. Train from Venice to Budapest, via Vienna. 8AM departure from Venice, 10PM arrival in Budapest. With peeps of alps along the way!

The train from Venice to Vienna was a dream. Comfortable, scenic and smooth with smatterings of perfect, yellow, Austrian houses ensconsed in perfect, grassy-green Austrian villages. Amusement came in the form of the refreshments cart, manned by a young guy so tall he had to practically fold himself around the trolley in order to inch it down the aisle. The English translations on the menu were begging to be parodied aloud in a thick Austrian accent. I knew it was bad form to find the superficialities of other cultures funny but I was only there for a day and couldn’t be bothered thinking too much about it. Stereotypes would do.

The underwhelming settlement of BRUCK.

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