Travel is often taken as the ideal break in our monotonous routine to feed our materialistic and spiritual needs. Travel is also an exploration that gives us the opportunity to open up to ideas, aesthetics and rituals which one can internalize in one’s life, going forward.
There is always so much talk about world culture, cultural assimilation and global citizenship; such that whenever one mentions about travel or tourism, the discussions revolve around one and the same thing. Before defining these terms out, one must know what are the pre- requisite to be a traveller (in the true spirit of the word)!
What did you learn out of a trip and did it transform your perception of the world or any place in particular?
Do you believe you have touched your hosts in some way or the vice-versa or were you just as the presumptuous as a de facto outsider in the whole process?
With whatever little experience I possess, I establish travel as a state of mind for I believe our minds perceive what we want them to. So I go out with a mind like a blank canvass and let the hosts (people/place) colour it in their hues and shades. I am always empathetic in my manners as this is the only time you can get to know about yourself through other people.
However, by taking in all the good and the positive one cannot sum up a travel experience. A thorough traveller is like a sponge- he absorbs and absorbs, never quite worrying, how much is too much. He soaks up the feel of the place, the euphoria oozes up through his sensory receptors and when squeezed out he can hold up to you precisely whatever he took in from that place.
Alright, about now you must be wondering what I am actually writing. No, this is not a travelogue as I am not interested to share with you the minutes of my trip - where I slept, what I ate , whom I met! Nor this is a ‘11 something, you do somewhere’ as that will be plain stupid and I don’t want to put the amazing experiences to shame by depositing them in one liners under pointer heads. This is actually a statement (few many statements) on the state of my mind on 22nd September 2012 in Budapest, Hungary.
Buda and Pest; it actually is- its two quarters sitting on the two banks of the River Duna (popularly known as the Danube). This is the second longest river in Europe and it flows through many major Central and East European cities. Hungary has a very distinctive and extensive history and a rich history (though dead), always, bears in it the very soul of the present city. Budapest is no exception; the city owes a lot to its past like most of the other classic European cities. Its antiquity has its imprints all over on the various monuments that lay scattered across the city.
Hungary is called the Country of Baths and the city of Budapest is dotted with many Bathhouses of the Roman and the Turkish periods as well as some of the 19-20th century modern Spa houses and a relaxing dip in their healing waters has now become a ritual for every tourist in Budapest. The Szechenyi Thermal Bath is the most popular of them all. It is housed in a neo- baroque palace built in the year 1913 with 18 pools, many saunas and steam cabinets together with a very fine restaurant. Who could give this exotic experience a miss?
So The Baths was my very first stop, obviously. The sensation was so immensely cleansing; like all my qualms and anguishes were evaporating out of me! Filled with renewed energy and vigour I pulled up my socks and decided to discover more of the city on foot! I eventually ventured out into the city gardens that houses one of the most romantic castles in Europe- Vajdahunyad vára.
Vajdahunyad Castle is a fantasy parody showcasing architectural styles from Middle Ages to the 18th century- Gothic, Baroque, Renaissance, Romanesque and any fine day one can spot many newly married couples posing against its stunning backdrops for their wedding photo shoots.
After briefly exploring through all of its 21 buildings, I walked up the Kos Karoly street and came up on to the Hero’s Square notable for its complex of statues with the Millennium Column standing right at its centre. It was constructed to commemorate the thousandth anniversary of the Magyar conquest of Hungary in 1895 and is flanked by the Museum of Fine Arts and the Palace of Art.
My next stop was the very popular Andrassy Avenue lined up with fancy mansions and town houses. It was basically built to discharge the parallel Király utca from heavy traffic and to connect the interiors of the city but the authorities disapproved of surface transport on this boulevard and hence the laying of the Budapest Metro Lines - the oldest in Continental Europe ( next only to London Metro). It is one of the major shopping districts in the city and I indulged myself in buying little knick-knacks from the many curio shops. I was blinded by options; there were colourful badges with fat hussar warriors, Ferenc Puskás-fridge magnets, puli coasters, ‘I love Budapest’ t-shirts and scarves, caps with the national emblem, flags or other folk motifs. As I went through the rows of shops, carefully inspecting the various wonderful items on the display; I totally lost track of time. The sun was down and the city lights were coming up rendering the entire place in a heavenly glow. Totally engulfed by the fervour to soak in all the beauty of the moment, I ambled further into the markets, window shopping by the high end boutiques. Finally; I strolled down to the bank of the Danube marked by the lines of ships ready to set sail into the river for the night cruises. I took time to read their respective food menus and elaborate services on display at the sidewalk. As I already had a public transit pass of the city which I had rarely used, I decided to take up the tram to go up to the Parliament Building from where I can take a metro ride to reach my hostel. The Hungarian Parliament is the Europe’s oldest Legislative building and sits right on the Pest side embankment of the Danube. The tram was filled with people on their way back home from work and there was hardly any place for me to stand, yet I somehow squeezed myself in. There was much hustling and jostling, as commuters were going out and getting in but I managed to de-board myself at the correct stop. As I looked up to the massive building right across the street looming over pretty much everything, I felt the certain pull of its monumentality in the urban fabric of the city. The lights thrown at this phenomenon edifice were conforming to the gestures created by the grandeur of its architecture and design. I was looking forward for the guided tour of the marvellous building that I had already pre-booked for the next day.
As I headed towards the Kossuth Lajos ter (metro station), I crossed many Turkish eateries that were serving Kebabs, Falfals and Shish. The aroma of the spices rising out of meat rotating on the spit made my stomach do a sudden somersault and the hunger pangs that I had subsided throughout the day were aroused. In my excitement I had hardly eaten anything, just two chocolate croissants and a soda for breakfast; I skipped lunch and had a gelato instead. No wonder, I was hungry and as it was already dinner time, I decided to pick up a Döner kebabon the go. As soon as my turn in the queue came up, I hurriedly put my hand into the pocket of my sling bag to get my wallet but I could not get a hold onto it because of all the clutter I carry in my bag- wet wipes, lens- caps, sanitizers, Crocin tablets, a Swiss knife, a medium towel, a smaller towel, a hair brush, a deo, a kajal stick,a sun-block etc ! I fanned out my hand to the most out reached corners of the pocket, yet I could not locate it. I was rattled, I stepped out of the line, squatted on the floor and emptied out the entire contents of my bag, turned it inside out yet there was no sign of my wallet. Phew! I was pickpocketed! I have braved the chors in the Mumbai Locals, escaped the thugs of Chandi Chowk and Paharganj, dodged some tough rip-offs in Anjuna and there I stood in Europe, far, far away from home surrounded by people I did not know; stripped of all that I had- money, credit cards, id-cards, driving license even my train ticket back to Vienna; all gone just like that! I immediately stuffed my things back into the bag, gathered all my strength to stand back upright and ran back to the tram stop, looking out for my wallet on my way. I felt week in my knees, my brain was clouded with disdain, and I was at my sixes and sevens not knowing what to do. I stared up at the tall turrets of the Parliament building as I waited for the tram car; the same building that I was mesmerized by, moments ago, appeared a giant, basking in the yellow glow mocking my triviality. I turned my gaze away from the building, pulled myself together and repeated in my head that everything would get sorted out in no time. I calmed myself down so that I could attain clarity of vision and judgement and decided to trace back the route to all the places where I had been in the last couple of hours as I was not sure where, actually I lost the purse. I only remembered taking it out last to pay for a few postcards in the souvenir shop.
I went straight to the River side promenade which was bustling with activity as people were boarding the night cruisers, bands were playing music on the decks, the street jugglers were entertaining the children and the entire place was bursting forth in revelries. It was difficult to make my way through the crowd; in the market place, the cafes and restaurants were filling in with diners. I looked for the wallet everywhere, even in the dustbins; what if they took away the cash and threw away the cards and the ids into the dustbin. (Hope is a strange urge!) I checked with the shopkeepers if anybody had seen a brown leather purse. Nobody answered to me in affirmation. I spent about an hour searching for it in the market squares and the walkways.
I had never felt more lost in my life and I could feel myself giving in to this bleak circle of thoughts. Everything turned gloomy and dark; the city lights were torched arrows piercing my soul, the archetypal buildings appeared haunted, the happy people somehow disappeared and all I could see were the destitute and the homeless. Suddenly the City of my Joy transformed into something eerie; of course in my head! A photograph of me sitting in between my parents which I always carried in my wallet was coming up in my mind again and again as I took hurried steps back to the river bank. This time there was an awkward silence in the Promenade as the cruise liners had all left the bank with all the people. There was nobody left there, just one or two skinny beggars who were scavenging the trash cans for left overs. They were dressed in rags, covered in smut and had hollowed smoked-out eyes; a shiver ran down my spine but I was determined to carry on with my pursuit. No luck, again!
It was quarter to ten and I knew there was no point wasting more of my time. I started walking towards the Metro Station, disheartened. I came up on to a police car, I tried explaining out my problem to them but to my great dismay they could not understand English. I tried broken German but of no use. I took them to the Le Méridien Hotel across the street and started explaining my problem to the receptionist there who again translated it to the police officer. They took me with them in their car to the Police station at Szalay Utca for registering of a FIR. After waiting there for about an hour, they informed me that the translator had already left and I were to come back the next morning only if I wished to file a complaint. When I asked them what I was supposed to do, they looked up the yellow pages and wrote me the helpline number to the Indian Embassy in Budapest and showed me the door! The fear and the uncertainty were making me feel dizzy; I felt like throwing up and I asked for water at which I was pointed towards a vending machine in the lobby. As I pressed onto the button marked water, it asked me to slip in a 180 forint! This was ridiculous. I scanned the room for any water filter; nothing. I could feel the turmoil in my stomach gaining motion hence I dashed into the bathroom, let the water run out of the tap and put my mouth to it! I quenched my thirst by gulping in as much of the fluid as I could. I felt small and vulnerable in that dingy and stinky 3X4 bathroom. My eyes moistened a little but I didn’t let my emotions take control of me instead I kept my head straight and walked out of the police station and boarded the metro to go back to the hostel, penniless and ticket-less!
Fortunately enough, I had already paid for my 2 nights stay and had put my passport in the Hostel lockers; at least I didn’t have to spend the night on the streets. On reaching the hostel I tried calling up the Indian Embassy but could not connect through, I called up my boss and narrated the entire incident, who had a good laugh at me and asked if I had the slightest idea of how crime-prone the cities in Eastern Europe are! Of course I had no idea! He assured to wire money to the account of the Hostel Manager and insisted I stay back for one more day and complete my tour of the city. I was drained of all my verve and zest and wanted to go back to Vienna as soon as I could.
I went to bed hungry with an indeterminate state of mind! I felt sick in the pit of my stomach.
What if the money never comes in? How will I go back to Vienna?
I felt timid and stupid.
The next day, early morning I explained the manager, Zöslt my situation. He held my hand and gave it a tight squeeze; he then took me into the café and offered me free breakfast. I was so touched by his gesture that I suddenly felt the warmth of home in that foreign land.
By standard procedure, International money transfer between EU members takes about 24 hours. But Zöslt gave me 200 euros right out of his cash box as soon as I told him that my boss had transferred the money. I was surprised to see how easy it was for him to trust me on my words alone without asking for any proof of the transaction. Even in darkness there is light, and when all doors shut down, somewhere a window opens up!
I went to the police station to file the FIR where I met with a long throng of foreign tourists waiting for their turn to file complaints of theft. I met an old man who was robbed in a bar – they took away his money, phone and clothes after slipping in some drug in his drink. He was from Norway and was speaking fluent English, I chatted with him as I waited my turn trying to console the sobbing old man. There was a young German couple who had been ripped off their engagement ring that they bought only the previous evening!
A sudden sensation to experience more of this elusive city sprang up in me. If I went back to Vienna so abruptly, I would lose out to the malevolent forces at work in the city, I thought. It was a crazy thought, no doubt, but it gave me strength and I refused to surrender to the antics of my fate. And I decided to stay back one more day! By the time I was finished with the procedure it was almost 12 noon; I had already missed the tour of the Parliament so I headed to the Chain’s Bridge that connects Buda to Pest, took the funicular to go up the Castle Hill.
The Castle Hill district is an UNESCO World Heritage site housing the Buda Castle, the National Gallery, the National Library, Mary Magdalene Tower, the Vienna Gate, the statue of Andras Hadik, the Turul and many other sculptures. Alongside the hill lies the Disney-logo look alike Fisherman’s Bastion and the Rococo styled Mathias Church.
Later that day, I covered many other attractions of the city like the Citadelle, the Rambach Synagogue, the State Opera House and the ‘Shoe on the Danube’ memorial. I was once again chock-a-block with the vigour of the city, I was happy and my mind bloated in serenity. I decided to spend my ultimate day in Hungary at the Margarret Island Park. It is a recreational area within the city which sits right at the centre of the river; about 2.5 km long and 500 metres wide. The time I spent in the park, in the lap of Mother Nature, with all the noises inside and outside my head silenced out, empowered me in totality. The walk through its well-manicured lawns and tall old trees with an ancient ruin coming up here and there was healing and meditational in quality.
After lunching on a heavy meal of Potato Langos and pork sausages, I boarded the train at 14 o’clock from Kelati pu station and bade farewell to Budapest.
This experience, though first of its kind taught me a lot many things about the world and its ways. I do not know how much of cultural assimilation took place in those three days; what I know is what a total travel experience is like and why it is a state of one’s mind!
At first, I was bombarded with the excitement of being in a new place, surrounded by new people; I could hardly keep my foot to the ground- all I saw were happy faces, enjoyed the classic buildings, bathed in the glory of a festive like atmosphere! My mind was unwilling to see the murkier side of the city that was very much present. I missed on the deprived and the homeless on the darker crevices of the classical buildings, their sad and longing faces, the emptiness of the back alleys to these buildings or the vagueness of the high vaults and the tall domes! But as soon as I was snatched of my possession, all of the dreariness cropped out of everywhere and cast a shadow on all the good things I was surrounded by only seconds earlier. The disdain in my mind gave way to the despair I was feeling for the city, momentarily! I was quick enough to rise out of the whirlpool of adverse sentiments I was sinking into and re-establish my grounds of exploring this new land to the fullest!
I am proud to have accepted whatever Budapest offered me, gracefully; good, bad and everything! Though others dismiss this; I take this to be a successful trip as my mind attained contentment and in the end what else does matter more!
