Three Cheers for Chairlifts!

It was our first full day in Budapest, Hungary. After a long flight from New York, a missed connection that wasn't nearly as romantic as the Craigslist section, delays in Berlin, and a quick transition to a night spent in the technicolor Szechenyi Bath swim-talking with everyone we could find, Tess, Kaycie, and I were tired. But it was a warm, beautiful morning and there was music floating up from the square outside our hostel, so we had to get going. We set off for the "Libego" -- An chairlift ride we'd heard about that led to incredible views of the entire city of Budapest.

We couldn't find the chairlifts. Google was confusing, the maps were wrong or didn't give us the detail we needed, and transit officers, bus drivers, and the general public didn't understand what we were asking, nor did we understand their answers. It was very hot and we were sweating through our sundresses, almost giving up outside of a place that looked like a run-down carnival. Finally, a bus-driver knew where to direct us, and we transferred to the correct bus and walked 15 minutes to the summit.

We bought our tickets and amongst the three of us decided who would sit with who, as the chairlift chairs only held two. It was decided that Kaycie and I would ride together in front, and Tess would take the chair behind us, solo. A man gestured to us to jump in. And then everything was different.

I no longer felt the hot or the confusion, just the green gloss of the treetops around us. We brushed our sandaled toes across the conifers' heads, looked out behind us at Budpest's multi-colored rooftops, gray clouds rolling in and the sun fighting to keep us informed. My lungs left. We passed over an aqua pick-up truck, abandoned, the back filled with wild-flowers, and clasped hands on the way to the top.

When we jumped out of our chairlifts, there was a chance to buy ice cream, picnic tables and a path leading up. We climbed the paved trail, stopping for baby's breath along the way, until we came to a rotund castle. At the top were the vantage points, and we stood there, breathing, in the wind, looking out over Budapest, finally. Time slows down when you've escaped your time zone, especially when you're viewing something beautiful. The gray clouds were mulling, stretching and blanketing, and after a bit we raced back down to catch the chairlift again before the last light left and the thunder started, rain kissing our shoulders as we waited for the next bus, smelling of wild-flowers.