Story Jar: Metro One, Budapest

Metro One, Budapest

Hungary, 2007: Subways are great. I say that with all sincerity right now because we stayed out too late and missed the last train to our hotel so had to hike a considerable number of blocks across the city.

Budapest is actually two cities (Buda and Pest) divided by the Danube River, a body of water without a hint of blue. It’s easy to get around Budapest on the Metro lines, the trolleys or the buses. We used the Metro for several days and took it for granted until tonight.

We boarded on the red line and meant to transfer to Metro 1 but when we started up the stairs a woman at the top shouted a string of Magyar (Hungarian) to which we responded with blank stares. She then said, “Finished.” That we understood. Didn’t like it but understood so we exited the station and pulled out the worn map that Em and Josh’s had given to us. We had to hike a distance equivalent to 7 stations on Metro 1. We walked down the wide center avenue on a clear, spring evening talking about the yellow line, Metro 1. It’s a gem.

It’s a series of Little-Engine-that-Could trains with sweet, small yellow cars that arrive every 2 or 3 minutes all day long with seating for 16 and, the poster says, standing room for 50 more. (I would challenge that because we were on a full car once and I counted 24 standing passengers with virtually no room between elbows and bags. There is no way another 26 passengers could have gotten on without some sitting on others’ shoulders.)


Hungary had the first underground system in Europe and while I don’t know that Metro 1 is part of that first construction, it certainly has the hand-crafted look of an earlier time. Metro 1 has oak doors, steel pillars with art deco tops and two-toned ceramic walls. We particularly liked that the Metro 1 cars play a happy little tune when entering stations, as if they are pleased once more to make it out of the dark tunnel.

When we arrived in Budapest we purchased a one week pass. We each carried a tiny, colorful ticket entitling us to ride any of the trains, trolleys or buses in either Buda or Pest. The tickets don’t open gates or pass under scanners. It almost seems as if a person could get around without a ticket but at any time while on the system, someone with a transit system armband might ask to see the ticket and if it isn’t produced, they collect a large fine right there. If a person has neither ticket nor money, the transit officials may confiscate anything that the person does have and hold it ransom until the fine is paid. There’s no messing around.

The system is the same in Prague where we were asked for our tickets several times. Generally tickets were checked on the bus. Not only did we always have our tickets but every person around us during those checks also produced one so we never witnessed a problem in Prague but in Budapest we saw three people pay fines. To say they looked glum would understate their appearance.

On the night of the long walk, this night of the missed train, we witnessed such a fine on the red line. We walked into the station at nearly 11 p.m. when 3 officials asked for our tickets. Rick pulled them out of his pocket and we were nodded onward. A train had just come into the station, disgorging an assortment of passengers – a band with trombone, guitar and sax, a man with a suitcase and a number of couples. These people were also stopped by the transit officials and the man with the suitcase had no ticket so one officer scribbled out a citation. The man handed over several bills, took his receipt and wheeled his suitcase out of the station unhappy to have taken such an expensive ride.

We had time to watch all of this because we had an enormous ten-minute wait before our large, modern train arrived with screeching brakes. That train took us to the station where the woman told us that the service was finished for the night.

We spent the next 20 minutes walking and missing the wonderful, yellow Metro 1 trains.

Travel - more Budapest and beyond

Sunday
We crossed the Danube River from Pest to Buda to see the castle and walk up and down little streets taking photos of houses and doors and cute little cars. At the Matthias Church we read about the extensive renovations being made to the building – about 700- years old. It has been studied extensively to find weak points in the walls and in the foundation. Piles of dirt are stacked on one side so that the structure beneath can be reinforced where it was built on a now-shifting clay surface. The tile roof has been replaced and work is ongoing to replace the metal, wood, stone and marble surfaces with attention to getting everything back to the original plans but allowing for modernization and stability.

The castle has been reworked also. It took about 60 years to figure out how to deal with it. During the communist rule there were plans to make it into party headquarters. Many centuries-old structures around the castle were torn down just to clear the area. They could have been renovated but during Soviet rule the preservation of Hungarian history was not valued by those in charge. Eventually the castle was renovated to hold three separate museums for art and heritage of the Hungarian tribes.
Hungary only elected its first democratic parliament in 1990 and it was admitted to the EU shortly afterwards. It still uses its own currency and not the Euro though many shops will take Euros, British pounds, US dollars and maybe occasionally other currencies. For a country recently out of communism, the economy seems well developed.

Some buildings have what look like gun shot damage and I read today about the revolution in the 50s when the Hungarians fought for independence and the world didn't help them. Many buildings were damaged (no mention made of the people) and the uprising ended when the people were given some autonomous rule. Maybe that’s why the people are doing well now. They’ve had more practice than some other Soviet Bloc countries.

All the people look very stylish, particularly I notice their shoes and boots while Rick sees the mini skirts and boots together. The people seem fond of pastries and cigarettes and sausages and opera and theater. A bomb feel on the stage of the opera house during WW II but it didn’t explode so the majority of the building was undamaged while many buildings around it were destroyed.

The opera house was renovated about 20 years ago for its 100th anniversary. We toured the building but didn’t see an opera. Gone with the Wind was on last night and tonight was Macbeth.
I guess that we spent most of the day walking and looking at things and being thankful that the rain stopped. We also spent some time reading guide books to plan out our last days here.
I took photos of the Metro 1 line, a feature we will miss. Trains come every 2 or 3 minutes to these quaint, little, clean stations. When the train arrives it plays a very short and happy tune just before the doors open. The cars supposedly hold 16 seated passengers and 50 standing but I counted 24 standing when the seats were full and couldn’t see another 26 people worth of space between all the bags and elbows.




Monday was another glorious spring day so we went to Szentendre by train. It was a touristy place for sure but with cute little buildings and streets. The buildings in this town and for several kilometers along the way are built of yellow, red or orange stucco with red tile roofs – except that we saw some roof repair going on and they aren’t tile but rather fiberglass. What a disappointment.

The colors of the houses are surprising because the colors of the tablecloths, pottery and traditional outfits explode in every direction. We can’t look 2 inches without seeing the entire color wheel so certainly people here like color. I guess it just goes in the houses and not on them though the occasional house was roofed in a cheeky green with pistachio stucco.

There’s a famous ceramic museum there – closed on Mondays – and a Marzipan Museum where one can see a life-sized Michael Jackson or miniatures of many fairy tale creatures as well as Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Fozzy Bear and members of the Hungarian Monarchy – all in tons of very colorful Marzipan.

We met Kathy and Russ who are significant because her sister is married to John Nenos and they lived in Alfred for several years. We don’t know John Nenos but we do know his brother Jim and his wife Karrie Edwards and we know where their old house is so that was a little surprising.

On the way back we got off the train twice not knowing if that is allowed with this ticket but since nobody checked our tickets when we jumped back on it worked out okay. We stopped to see ancient Roman ruins. There are two amphitheatres – one smaller than Rome’s coliseum and the other larger. They are said to be “resting” which means that nobody is tearing them down but nobody is restoring or protecting them either.

The Roman Coliseum is a huge tourist draw and money conduit if not money maker. The first amphitheatre we stopped at was Aquincum in OBuda or ancient Buda. It is visible from the train track so no problem finding it. The town was a military garrison in the first century AD and was also the seat of the Roman province of the time.

The amphitheatre was for the general public. The gate of death is to the west – named as it was used to carry slain gladiators from the ring. Now one might accurately describe it as a pit with rusted grocery carts and corners full of trash. Behind it appears to be a squatter’s village built of plastic tents.

Our next leap off the train was at the site of a military amphitheatre built in the second century to hold up to 15,000 spectators. Larger than the facility in Rome, it has a full circle around a grassy pit, one lion’s cage still intact and some of the seating levels are in place. It does not have the tall walls of the coliseum or the Roman guards (with or without fox skins) or the food stalls, the guides and the throngs of people. A few students sat here and there talking or reading and a woman walked her dog where lions once shredded gladiators for the entertainment of thousands. Rick and I ate oranges in the breezy Hungarian sun.

Travel - Budapest One

Budapest

On our first day in Budapest, we explored the neighborhood – full of photo-worthy building after photo-worthy building. The Delibab Hotel is across the street from Hero’s square (built to commemorate the 1,000^th anniversary of Hungary), two art museums (one with a Van Gough exhibit) and a huge park (with a spring time status of the skating rink now melted and the canoe pond drained).

The Delibab was originally constructed for orphaned Jewish girls and each little room has a little bathroom and two closets and two cupboards. The ceilings are tall and the banister is a narrow metal affair with a regular series of bumps which we guess were to discourage unlady-like sliding.

We saved the nearby museums for a possible rainy day and walked around the park where we found what Rick thought was a huge pocket watch. He was almost right. It’s a sculpture called Time Wheel, the world’s largest hour glass. So large in fact that it takes not an hour to transfer its sand from one side to the other but rather a year. On the last day of the year, pulleys and cranes work to roll Time Wheel on its base so it can start again.

St. Augustine is quoted on the dedication plaque, “What is time then? If nobody asks me, I know; if I have to explain it, I do not.”

We rode the subway into the center city and looked at the Danube in the moonlight. The castle was shining on the opposite bank while a ferry chugged gently in the water.

We also searched for the pater-noster, a lift that carries people only upward, never stopping but letting passengers hop on or off as it slowly makes its way up the building. It drops in darkness to the basement and starts up again. Named for the similarity to a chain of rosary beads, it is an outdated conveyance and is now so outdated that, apparently, the last buildings that had it are gone and shiny new structures are growing behind scaffolding.

We ate at a picnic table in the center of “downtown” and listed to a soprano sax at the corner.

Friday, March 23, 2007

The rain started just in time for our morning excursion so we went to one of the art museums. My favorite piece was by Franz von Lenback . Titled “Triumphal Arch of Titus, Rome” it was more like photo than painting. Everything was in perfect proportion, the shadows were just as they might be seen, the clothing was detailed, the backgrounds were what we took photos of on Wednesday.

There was a gypsy family walking under the arch with a donkey while two little boys rolled in the dirt at the edge of the road and goats watched them. It was nice to see something other than Jesus, Mary and Joseph surrounded by saints and angles and speaking of saints it appears that Barthomew was flayed. He looked at first as if he was standing in his red union suit with a white scarf but that scarf had hands and feet and his right hand held a knife. He had quite the serene look for someone standing skinless and one might wonder what he did to deserve such treatment.

In the afternoon we went to The Great Market Hall. It had stalls full of garlic, peppers, veggies, beef, fish, and the aroma of superior sauerkraut. We took photos and looked at crafts. The local crafts include very expensive and colorful tablecloths and blouses as well as very colorful porcelain and very colorful painted eggs and toys. Color was big on the list. It was nicely done work but just too colorful.

We took the metro to the train station to see what Emilie and Josh said was the most beautiful McDonalds ever. It certainly was gorgeous. It seemed that the old train station was larger than needed for train business so there were stores and clubs and a huge McDonalds. A McDonalds of majesty built in the remnants of the old train station restaurant.

We walked some dark and empty streets to see Parliament at night. There were lots of cars but not many walkers. We went back to the hotel with plans to make it out there again,

Back at the hotel we checked the weather on the internet to learn of continuing rain that will give way to four days of sun by evening. Yippee,

Saturday

At about 3:30 people moved into the room next to ours though it sounded as if they were in our our two little closet moving refrigerators, stomping and yelling. It went on for about 20 minutes – TV, talking, music, clomping, banging. It didn't seem there was enough stuff in the room to make that much noise.

We had breakfast and took off for the Saturday flea market – a place that like supermarkets often shows tremendous variety and unexpected sights. If we were into Smurfs or Star Wars we would have thought we’d gone to shopper’s heaven. In addition to those toys we found CDs, Playstation games, toys, sundries, food, and lots of geodes and crystals too. We bought nothing. Actually we didn’t buy anything but food here until Saturday afternoon.

We walked to the Amusement park to see the carousel, now a national treasure. It’s in a glass building at the road side so we didn't have to enter the park. It has horses on platforms that seemed to be positioned to lift and rock but though the park had been supposedly open for an hour nobody was there to ride. This was perfectly reasonable since it was so cold and damp.

We took photos of the museums in the area and of the Anonymous Monk. Aspiring writers touch his quill for inspiration. The monk wrote the history of the area but I guess he never signed his name.

We strolled around the bathhouse and tried to understand what it offers and what it costs. It seemed we should try this famous and popular Hungarian activity but getting wet on such a cold damp day does not sound inviting. The building is beautiful – ornate, yellow, large, clean, holding lots more people than the Amusement Park.

The bathhouse offers massages and carbolic acid baths as well as mud wraps and steam baths.
Em and Josh though about going inside when they came here last year but they didn't actually bathe.

We did find our way into a grocery store where we found lots of sliced meats. It was interesting how many processed, sliced meats there were. The raw meats too were stacked tall and shiny in the cooler. In the great market we found smoked meats – hams, bacon, sausages – salt-crusted and dark brown hanging on hooks above the clerks. Some of the hams and cheeses looked as if they would need a forklift to get them down.

We went downtown and chanced upon a peasant dancing troupe with a band consisting of hammered dulcimer, two violins and a bass and then went to the Opera House in time to miss the 3 o’clock tour so we went to St. Stephen’s Basilica and rode the elevator to the dome. Well, part way to the dome after which we labored up winding staircases to the top where we could walk around the dome on the outside and see the whole city while being whipped by vicious winds.

The Basilica took 50+ years to build and made its way through three architects in the process. It is loaded with gold leaf and has the desiccated right hand of St. Stephen near the main altar. It also has the largest organ in Hungary. I’ll bet Laurel Buckwalter could play it and wonder what Where Sheep Safely Graze would sound like there.

We traveled back on the subway to the center of town and actually bought two things: a soprano recorder (almond wood) and a spoon (apple wood). The flute maker was a flute player and he could really rock on anything –shepherd’s flute, double flute, recorder, ocarina.

We found the chain bridge and the funicular railroad but tomorrow is supposed to be 15 degrees warmer and much drier so we are waiting for that before we cross the river. The Danube, by the by, is not blue in this city though it may be elsewhere.

Travel - Six hours in Rome

Rome

Our first view of Rome made us think of a cold Thailand. It was the combination of palm trees, small cars, construction, tile roofs, brick and concrete houses in tropical colors, tall grasses, debris near work areas, foreign languages floating around us and people in uniforms. During our train ride we saw open fields, farm areas and condos with laundry waving from balconies.

As we neared the city, buildings sprouted forests of prickly antennas and peering satellite dishes while ditches took on color from smashed plastic bottles and flattened, dirt-creased plastic bags.

We didn’t have time for much of a visit in Rome. One plane landed after 11 a.m. and our ongoing plane had a check in time at about 6. The first order of business after landing was food. Sometimes airplane food just isn't wonderful.

After searching the airport restaurants and finding pastries or pizza (I can't eat any form of milk.), we stopped at a deli where Rick had cheese cake and I dug in my bag for tofu jerky and water while we debated a long, long airport sit down vs. the chance of getting lost and missing our next flight. Luckily, we saw an information booth through the window and the person on duty had the perfect idea.

The suggestion was to take a train to the metro and have a quick visit to the Coliseum. "You can't get lost," he assured us. While his guarantee sounded iffy, he proved correct.

As he promised, the Coliseum is directly across from the metro. We found Roman guards eating pizza and coke and smoking cigarettes at the entry. I thought that they were ticket takers or such at the Coliseum but not quite. They offer their images in a photo for 8 Euros. Eight Euros!

Later I heard one say to an American, “It’s 8 Euros – not 8,000 Euros. The photo will last a lifetime.” She went for it. They did put on a show with fierce growling faces and swords at the ready and it takes some guts to dress like that in the chill air but it wasn't anything I wanted to be part of.

Two guards were with a family. The older boy stepped right up on the platform and grabbed both shield and sword and willingly buried his head in the man’s huge feathered helmet. The father snapped photos, the mother laughed. Next the younger boy stepped up. He was offered sword and shield and a laurel wreath for his head but no deal. He gave a mama-come-save-me wail.

An imposing man wore a fox skin – head on feathered-helmet, paws on shoulders, body and tail trailing behind. With his tunic, helmet, tattoos, tights, and boots, his pixels were nearly worth 8 Euros.

We walked around the Coliseum and the Roman Forum while snapping photos of buildings and ruins and a flowering vine deeply rooted in an ancient wall. We also found the Coliseum cat lady and made a donation for her effort of feeding the wild cats.

The Coliseum and forum weren’t as impressive as Machu Picchu or some of the other ruins we’ve seen. Rather than reverence for the past there are cigarette butts and souvenir stands.

There seems to be a cavalier attitude toward the site. Stones lay about, plastic mesh fences defined areas, weeds have taken root in dirt piles and people stand on carved stones to take photos. These stones were once adorning buildings with Fleur-de-leis or flowers or faces and people just walk on them.

The Coliseum itself has huge cracks and is peppered with holes. I supposed we’d know more about it if we had taken the tour but we had little time so we didn’t go in. Most others didn’t walk around outside. Who knows which of us missed more.

An American woman asked if we were American or British. The British never hire guides but Americans sometimes do in her experience. She knows the history of the area she called the center of the world. She said that she only spoke 4 languages so was limited in her opportunities but has been speaking of the history of Rome for 30 years, smoking cigarettes when not employed.

To say she seemed unhappy would be kind. She said that most of the visitors were “garbage” and her meager living disappointing. We disappointed her further by leaving her puffing on her cigarette, leaning against a broken wall.

We walked around and found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant where we ate kabobs. The owner knew English and recited his extensive vocabulary – yogurt, spicy, tomato, cheese, pizza, chicken. After that we took the metro back to the Pyramid station. We passed a spider web dress that Emilie might have liked and took photos of teeny, tiny Smart cars.

There’s a pyramid in Rome. Did you know? It’s not as large as an Egyptian pyramid but it’s the size of a building and it protects what looks like a cemetery. When we left the Coliseum we took the metro back to the pyramid stop so took a short excursion around the area. The cemetery behind the pyramid was locked but through the fence we could see piles of bricks and piles of dirt and plastic mesh fences. Orange plastic mesh fences will now make me think of Rome.

From the metro stop we need the train back to the airport so we wound our way through tunnels looking for it. There was one little airplane sign and then there were no more and we were “lost” in a gentle sense of the word so I asked a man who had the misfortune of standing still and he showed me an electric signboard that flashed the name of the airport and track 12. Back on our way, we climbed onto the train, a smooth riding transport with a welcomed toilet. (A mystery toilet. I couldn’t see how to flush it. My apologies to Rome.)

We were a little later getting back to the airport than we planned because I got us off at the wrong stop so we had to sit in the windy station for 15 minutes for the next train. No matter though. The flight to Budapest was delayed too so we were fine.

We arrived late and the ATMs were out of money. I changed some money getting 177 Hungarian units per $. Em and Josh had gotten 211 per $ last year. We took the mini bus to the hotel and intending to get a fresh start the next day.