Budapest broke my heart

You broke my heart Budapest. You broke her in two. Although I've moved on, I've left pieces with you.

I've left a piece in the doorway of the Church (the one built into rock); a church created by explosions, and it left me in shock.

There's a piece in the Danube, floating along, in front of a gleaming, imposing Parliament, silent and strong.

You'll find one on the Chain Bridge, the most magnificent I've known, as I didn't have a padlock, and my mind sure was blown.

Once I realised they were missing, I searched high and low. I climbed all the way up to Buda Castle, amazed by how much I didn't yet know. You let me in on your secrets, your present, your past. I learned more than I could ever have done by just searching on Google Maps.

You left me in Ruins (Bars) by the end of the night, when I realised your presence wasn't a trick of the light. The beauty of Buda and the history of Pest could turn even the most-experienced traveller into a hysterical mess.

To all future travellers, take heed from this story. Jump into the city in all of its glory. Taste the weekly food markets, an unspoken language of the Hungarian people. Look for the old war-time hospital, hidden in the wall. Lose yourself in the catacombs, and lend your heart to Budapest. She'll only take it from you anyway.

I sat on the side of the River Danube one day, and asked aloud, "How did I end up here?". A fellow traveller grinned and replied to my spoken thought.
- Well, we hopped on a three-hour airplane from Paris.
- But that's not what I mean. How did I end up here, in the middle of a city whose culture I have immersed myself in so willingly that I may never want to leave? How did my life bring me to such a position where I am able to love a place I know so little about?

In my eyes, you could travel the entire world three times over, and return home with words full of nothing to say, or you could experience the entire world three times over, and return home with a speechless mind full of tales.

It's all about how you approach the destination, and how you define the journey. To travel well is to open your heart once you open your suitcase, and care less when you're careless and your heart breaks away. To travel well is to relish knowing that your mind is elsewhere, because this means that you'll just have to return to the place you once loved to pick up the pieces.

So, you broke my heart Budapest, but I didn't mind. Although part of me is preoccupied, my heart left memories behind.