i.
It’s a sweltering day and Danube, striding from east to west, cannot contain the heat. I climb the hill to see for myself this beautiful contradiction they speak of.
ii.
Despite best efforts of etymologists, both amateur and professional, the origins of words remain speculative. Unfazed, Buda and Pest stand side by side, their contrasting architectures creating a harmonious visual juxtaposition, and as they strive to find a middle ground.
iii.
But the ground is constantly moving as it carries water, serving as the life force for countries in the centre, south, east, and all the way to the Black Sea.
iv.
I feel young as I hike up the Gellért Hill for an aerial view of the city, only to be surprised by the imposing bishop, St Gellért Sagredo, holding the crucifix. We won’t get into the details of what he is doing here, for it’s all in the history books.
v.
As a Jo’burger, I can easily see the invisible divide positioned just behind the historical landmarks between the haves and have-nots, without relying on Danube as a reference.
vi.
But if you are true to your word that you’re a traveller, not a tourist, you’re going to appreciate uniqueness – District VIII by day. It’s what surreal movies are made of. Pick a direction and proceed, and you’ll encounter a homeless guy flipping, opening and shutting trash cans with vigour. On the other end, a just-turned forty gal claims the entire restaurant for a celebration. It’s Budapest by Night, you see!
vii.
Locals reckon Pest is where you eat, drink and be merry after you’ve wandered down the Buda hills. But I dare say you can be merry on both sides —
viii.
Fortunately, you don’t need to figure out which side of the river you’re on. ‘Cause delicately balanced glasses overflowing with Prosecco, in the middle and along Danube river, will reward you with clarity.
ix.
If you appreciate the flavour of fermented grapes, you’ll indulge in the aroma and rely on Bolt to get you back safely to your abode, all while listening to the French exchange between the cyclists and motorists.
x.
At Üllői út Avenue, I dodge things leaking and stamkoks as I try to find my way home. Yes, when you’ve been on the road for seven weeks, home is where the candle is. But praise be to the artists who sprinkle a touch of pot-pourri to drench the stench, creating a lasting impression on the visitor!
xi.
A way of looking at a contradiction is not from envy-inducing Instagram photos or leaders sliding down the pole, dirty-dancing, but with curiosity. As William Blake once wrote, “Do what you will, this world’s a fiction and is made up of contradiction.”
xii.
I feel old as I call it a night, and after watching the taxi driver texting his girlfriend or new Mrs Right, all while skillfully navigating the busy city streets. What is his secret? There’s no time to find out. But one thing is certain, this city really grows on you. ‘Cause it embraces its imperfections while showcasing its photogenic side.
xiii.
A thing of beauty is [not] a joy forever. But as a visitor, you’ll come to appreciate its increasing loveliness. Budapest is a symphony of contradictions. I collect this wisdom and pack it in a fridge magnet, as a reminder to embrace both my flaws and beauty.
PS. The last post of the series, A Way of Looking at Enchantment, is coming up next Sunday. If you’re new to this series, A Way of Looking at Autumn’s First Breath is a good place to begin.
