Experiencing Budapest as a local (part 1)
I love walking through the streets of a new foreign city, after having just finished exploring its many wonders and learnt its rich history. Especially in the late afternoon, when there is still time to relax, pop into a few stores, appreciate the architecture and feel the life of the city, almost as if I was a local.
I felt this way in Budapest on the last evening of our 8 day trip to Slovenia and Hungary. My family and I had decided to go to a coffee shop after trekking through the city in the heat trying to tick off the rest of the main sights before the evening. I remember having a headache and part of me had yearned for the comfy sofa in our air-conditioned apartment just off Andrassy út. However, my desire to experience Budapest as a 'local' was far greater. In fact we were already like locals, having chosen McCafe, an American import, as opposed to discovering a more traditional cafe.
We sat in the air-conditioned cafe just watching the people walk by and observing their different characteristics. It's probably one of the most stress relieving things. At the same time I was enthusiastically sipping a chocolate frappe with complete disregard for the fact that I was on a non-dairy diet. All I cared about was cooling down and easing my strained head after having the heavy burden of being my families personal tour guide for 3 days.
Next we proceed by walking through the shopping streets and boulevards looking for appropriate stores to find some clothes that would be my souvenirs. My dad quickly suggested Zara, knowing that I almost always find something and that we would avoid spending over 50€ (though of course he kept this to himself). Inevitably his tactic worked. I had already found 4 tops in the space of 5 minutes and within 20 minutes we were at the cash register with 3 of them; 45 euros altogether.
Frankly, I was a little disappointed that I no longer had a good reason to walk through the streets some more. However, I had mentioned that I was interested in looking at some shoes. So with that, my mum and I stayed back and wandered the streets some more at a leisurely pace, looking into a few shoe shops before deciding to finally head back. I remember our feet starting to ache and my eyes getting droopy. How nice it will be to get back... and then a phone call from my dad; "I left my passport at the art gallery!" It was around 7:30pm, the art gallery had closed at 5pm, and we were leaving the city the next morning at 5:30am fir the airport to fly back home...
part 2 coming soon...
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