BUDAPEST PART TWO

Thursday morning saw us up early because we planned to go out of Budapest to the old town of Szentendre (St Andrew), about a thirty minute train ride away.
After breakfast we walked down to the embankment and along the road towards the Margaret Bridge where buses trams, the underground and above ground trains meet.
After some initial wandering about, we worked out that the station itself was underground. Then we had to negotiate tickets in Hungarian, but fortunately the ticket lady knew the English for “Return” plus our destination.
Our train was like any suburban train, in this case green, and it rattled along between stations past suburban blocks of apartments and further out, long back yard gardens with vegetable beds and fruit trees.
The houses could just as well have been in Austria or the Czech Republic all with steep gabled roofs and just a touch of that cuckoo clock look, but painted in brighter colours.
When we alighted at Szentendre, we saw in front of us, cobbled streets with charming eighteenth century houses on either side, and shady vines and trees and down to our right, the broad Danube.
Szentendre is a town rather than a village and it goes back to the eleventh century, but after the departure of the occupying Turks some centuries later it became almost deserted. It was repopulated by refugees from Pest who then decided it was worth staying. There are virtually no buildings later than the eighteenth century. A lot of the buildings are now museums, and the rest are either churches or shops with apartments upstairs. There are lots of narrow stepped alleyways leading up and down from the river. And of course there are lots of little cafes and restaurants.
It was another hot day and Barbara and I stepped into the courtyard of one cafe, the Dorothea where we ordered beer and lemonade. It was very pleasant to sit in the shade of a spreading leafy old tree, sipping our drinks and watching life pass by.
The many little shops offered every kind of souvenir as well as clothing, liquor, ceramics, prints and lacework. And there were stalls selling great strings of red chillie peppers and bunches of garlic.
In the centre of the main square (Fo ter) stood the Cross of the Merchants, a pink marble column decorated with Orthodox icons and topped with an iron crucifix in the Serbian style. Although Hungary is 75 per cent Catholic, this area was home to many former Serbs and near the Merchants Cross stands the Serbian Orthodox church of Blagovestenszka, its bell tower crowned with the familiar black squat steeple.
We climbed the steps of one of those narrow alleys to emerge onto another open square, the Castle Hill, where stood the parish church of Szentendre, St John the Baptist’s, a cream and white edifice with a square bell tower at one end and spreading green trees providing shade around its walls. There’s been a church here since the Middle Ages and this one was built on the original walls in the eighteenth century.
Inside the furnishings were baroque with a richly ornamented rococo altar.
This place was also once used as a fortress, and from the outer wall we could look out over brightly tiled rooftops all the way to the Danube below.
We walked back down into the town passing a cheery crowd of young people all dressed up for a wedding at the town hall, returning to the Dorothea Cafe where we lunched on crunchy bread rolls with cheese and tomato, washed down with tall glasses of homemade lemonade.
It was approaching mid afternoon when we reached the railway station again, and took the train back to Budapest. We had planned to visit the Parliament House but having traipsed across the Margaret Bridge in the hot sun and along the embankment to the entrance to the building we were told by an armed guard that the last tour had ended an hour earlier. We could tour the building tomorrow at ten am.
So we sat under the trees for a while before heading back to our hotel, this time using the tram as far as the entrance to the Chain Bridge.
We decided to get a bit of a nap at the hotel before getting up and going to a free concert at the St Andrew Basilica at 7pm.
But once again, age caught up with us and we didn’t wake up again until six thirty. We would never make it.
So we watched some of the UEFA Cup on TV before going out for our last dinner in Budapest.
This we wanted to be special, so we took the funicular up to the Castle Hill again, and there found a delightful outdoor restaurant called Apetito. For the next couple of hours we watched the passing parade while sharing a bottle of good Hungarian Merlot, beautifully fresh olive bread, mushroom soup something truffle flavored and a creamy veal dish served with fluffy gnocchi. We couldn’t have managed dessert, and settled for coffee, before strolling around the promenade one more time.
Then we wandered down a softly lit street past darkened courtyards and doorways with the trees of the park on the other side until we reached our own little lane and the hotel.
We still had a few hours of Saturday morning before we headed for the airport, so we set off again for the Parliament House and arrived in plenty of time to get tickets. On the way we discovered that the Chain Bridge and the surrounds had been blocked off for the day. This was because the day was designated the Chain Bridge Summer Festival, and the whole bridge was lined with stalls and novelty shops, and street performers.
So we walked down the middle of the bridge and along the riverside to the Parliament House to spend an hour or so as part of a conducted tour of an amazing building.
This nineteenth century structure stands on the Pest side of the Danube and is partly modelled on the British Houses of Parliament. It is dominated by a red ornamental dome which connects the Upper and Lower Houses. The system now has only a single Lower House, the Upper House being used for receptions and so on.
We were taken inside and up a grand staircase gaping at the rich ornamentation all around. The entrances to the various chambers were arched with finely carved oak with red marble columns and filigrees of white and gold leafed plaster. The walls and ceilings were decorated with frescos and paintings and all kinds of statuary.
When we reached the centre of the building we looked up again at the ceiling of that cupola finely decorated in gold leaf, and directly below it in a glass case, the Royal Crown of Hungary, the orb and sceptre once carried by King Stephen centuries ago.
There are guards in traditional Hungarian uniform and every fifteen minutes they come to attention, draw their ceremonial swords and salute the crown. (Of course there is no monarchy in Hungary now.)
We visited the Lower House or Council Chamber which is also very ornate, laid out in a horseshoe of wooden seats, each with its microphone, speaker and electronic voting panel. There are nearly four hundred members who meet here in two long sessions each year.
We left Parliament House and crossed the square to an imposing building which houses the Ethnographic Museum. There was an exhibition of photographs of what were called the “forgotten Europeans”.
These are peoples who have been over the centuries, displaced from their original homes and those who are left, live within other communities and countries. We had never heard of “The Sorbs” or the Szips”, although we were aware of the Assyrians and the Romany people. A fascinating story.
But time was rolling on and we decided to get some lunch and head back to the hotel. As we rounded the corner from the square we could hear music.
On a temporary stage there was a traditional Hungarian orchestra and young men and women in brightly coloured traditional clothes were whirling and spinning to lively folk music.
So we bought ourselves some plates of hot paprika sauced chicken cooked in huge pans in the open air, and settled down on a bench to watch the show. It was fabulous. As well as Hungarian dancing there were singers and dancers from Slovakia, and other countries including one act which appeared to be Moroccan. There was a great deal of foot stamping and clapping at which we both joined in with gusto.
The sun was shining, the performers were wonderful, the beer was flowing and we could have stayed all day.
But alas we had to tear ourselves away, and head back to a waiting bus and a flight back to England.
Where of course, it was raining!