Sunset Symphonies

It’s 6AM and I can’t decide what’s getting to me more – the cold, or the sleep deprivation. We’re halfway through a 10 week backpacking, rail-riding European extravaganza and I am absolutely knackered.

These are the things no one tells you about. Oh, you know, they’re all full of stories about how much they learned and how wonderfully fulfilling it all was, but no one mentions the budgeting headaches, epic train trips, hostel nightmares and a serious lack of sleep. All real concerns.

So, here I am, stumbling off yet another train, trying to remember where exactly I’m supposed to be. Is it Slovenia? Romania? No, Hungary. What are we doing here again?

Our hostel is located in Pest; we walk it. I’m a big fan of walking everywhere. My friend doesn’t always agree, especially not when we are footsore in Barcelona’s Park Güell, but the stories make it worth it. The dorm is warm and deserted. A shower and a cup of coffee restore order to the universe; I’m finally awake and a new city is waiting.

We wander streets known for ruin pubs, cross the Széchenyi Chain Bridge and watch the sun sit low on the horizon from Fisherman’s Bastion. Navigating the labyrinthine streets of Buda, we stumble on Margaret Island, slightly ominous in the gathering dark with its bare trees and ruins. A street vendor is selling candyfloss so of course we must partake. No one can say no to candy floss.
The Danube flows below the bridge, light from the simply magnificent Parliament House glints off patches of ice around the banks. We have tickets to a symphony performance at the beautiful Opera House in a couple of hours. It’s been a long, long day and a worsening tickle in my throat suggests I’m getting a cold.

But it doesn’t matter.

In this moment, none of it matters. I’m standing on a bridge in a brand new city, an unfamiliar wind whipping through my hair and a hundred unknown lights sparkle all along the banks of a river I hadn’t seen until today.

This is why no one tells you the horror stories. Those bad things, those minor inconveniences, they fade to nothing in these moments. And so I walk knowingly into a travel cliché because you know what? It is actually life-affirming. In a single day, this beautiful city has turned a jaded traveller into a true believer.

It’s 6AM and it’s cold and I’m sleep deprived. An intended four day stay turned into nine, but needs must. We’re off. The cityscape flashes past the train window and is gone, but Budapest stays with me. It always will.