Showing posts with label Sights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sights. Show all posts
Disused Railway Sidings [map]
Pest VIII, Kőbányai út 21 (T28/62), 1 min
Hungary is not the most multicultural nation on the planet. 95% Magyar, 2% Roma (derided by 95% of the population), and 3% strays and waifs. Also in amongst this is a Chinese population, many of whom make a living in the ubiquitous and universally underwhelming "Gyors Bufés." But, believe it or not, Budapest does have its own Chinatown! Well, China-shanty-town, at least.Blaha Lujza tér is not the prettiest part of Budapest but if you walk in four out of five directions, you're still in town: cosmopolitan enough to find tourists looking at upside-down maps. The fifth direction, however, along Népszinház utca, is as well-known as the fifth dimension and you can take a tram straight into it. English voices here raise eyebrows, or at least the temper of the drunken tramp standing two feet away from me. He got quite angry but stopped short of lunging at me. (It seems I'm something of a disgruntled tramp magnet.)
You know when you're at the market because the tram takes a sharp left in front of an enormous brick spacecraft-of-a-building, before stopping a hundred metres later, next to some disused railway sidings. The latter announce your arrival. It's at this point that you're wondering what the Hell you're doing here.The market has scaled down a little in recent months, making the collection of makeshift stalls negotiable without a compass, although walking from one end to the other is still a distance event. On sale: counterfeit brands, fake perfumes, genuine radio alarm clocks from the 1980s. I'm told it's the only place you can buy Vichy skincare products without going to a chemist. I've also heard rumours that you can buy guns, although that's not exactly advertised. Personally, I think the atmosphere is the best value, although socks come a close second.
The market also serves as a gambling den: poker games go on in full view, particularly during the week, when business is slower. Little piles of notes are not so much as hidden, although furtive glances are de rigeur. Photos are restricted to what you can capture discreetly on your phone, unless you want to be yelled at or lynched.So many Chinese people in one place need feeding, and consequently the food here is a big improvement on the city's Bufés, at a decent price too. (More on what's on offer here.) But don't believe that price board that looks like it's been there for a decade: it has, and protesting that your rice is twice the marked price is unlikely to count for much.
The Chinese Market is a real oddity, and if it's not the most immediate of Budapest's attractions, it is a side of the city that's bafflingly interesting, in a grimy kind of way. The down-sizing, however, could be a sign that the authorities are starting to tighten the noose, so get your sneaky snapshots of Budapest's underbelly while you can. If they ever do succeed in shutting it down, I hope provision is being made for those of us who want socks, Chinese food and fake perfume in the same place. And what on Earth will they do with all those Chinese people?
Four trams run along Népszinház utca from Blaha, but only two, the #28 and #62 take you to the Chinese market. All are equipped with drunken tramps.
Andy Sz.
Budapest is a bustling metropolitan city of incessant clamour, miserable people in shops, trams, buses and smog. The homeless and dogs alike use the streets as their toilet, while underground, people rush headlong into your path in a no-holds-barred free-for-all. That’s why a spot for some inner solitude is crucial.
On a Saturday afternoon in mid-winter, I found myself in a clearing, amongst boulders and brambles. A light snow began to fall, and in the near silence, the moment approached the surreal.
It’s surprising how little traveling you have to do to feel like you’ve reached the verge of suburban and earthly terrain: just a little south of Castle Hill and within spitting distance of the city center (depending on the power of your expectoration.) Although the cave-chapel, close to the foot of the hill, is certainly worth a look, it doesn't give much respite from the masses - not least due to its tiny proportions. My mission for peace was of the urgent, selfish variety, so I opted for a more personal route.
There is a surplus of paths snaking their way through the park, akin to the inner reaches and windings of New York’s Central Park. No matter which strategy you have for traversing the trails (both paved and muddy), you’re bound to stumble upon surprises along the way: a tent pitched on a small patch of grass, couples getting mawkish, and strange playgrounds that materialize out of nowhere.
Five rather massive slides lie somewhere about halfway up the hill. They may look like a death wish for small children, but after I'd youthfully bounded up the steps, I found the downhill journey a bit on the slow side. Fun nonetheless.
There are countless lookout points where you can catch your breath from the arduous climb, and take in the now calming din and expansive views of Budapest below. It’s pretty easy to wax nostalgic about the beauty of this place. Sure, city life is a daily war, but here, towering above it all, you can feel like a conqueror.
The "Statue of Liberty" and Citadella, lie atop the hill and for some, will be the main motivation for the climb. But for me, it’s the serenity of the journey itself that’s the main draw. At the top you’ll find the typical tourist hubbub and vexing vendors rushing you with their, “English? Deutsch? Français?”, which might prompt you to find the nearest trail and lose yourself again in the undergrowth.
The most popular approach is from a Gellért Baths, direction but you can also start at the foot of Erzsébet hid, by the Szent Gellért statue, or take a #8 bus to Sánc utca for a lengthier exploration.
Jacob P.
It’s surprising how little traveling you have to do to feel like you’ve reached the verge of suburban and earthly terrain: just a little south of Castle Hill and within spitting distance of the city center (depending on the power of your expectoration.) Although the cave-chapel, close to the foot of the hill, is certainly worth a look, it doesn't give much respite from the masses - not least due to its tiny proportions. My mission for peace was of the urgent, selfish variety, so I opted for a more personal route.
There is a surplus of paths snaking their way through the park, akin to the inner reaches and windings of New York’s Central Park. No matter which strategy you have for traversing the trails (both paved and muddy), you’re bound to stumble upon surprises along the way: a tent pitched on a small patch of grass, couples getting mawkish, and strange playgrounds that materialize out of nowhere.
Five rather massive slides lie somewhere about halfway up the hill. They may look like a death wish for small children, but after I'd youthfully bounded up the steps, I found the downhill journey a bit on the slow side. Fun nonetheless.
There are countless lookout points where you can catch your breath from the arduous climb, and take in the now calming din and expansive views of Budapest below. It’s pretty easy to wax nostalgic about the beauty of this place. Sure, city life is a daily war, but here, towering above it all, you can feel like a conqueror.The "Statue of Liberty" and Citadella, lie atop the hill and for some, will be the main motivation for the climb. But for me, it’s the serenity of the journey itself that’s the main draw. At the top you’ll find the typical tourist hubbub and vexing vendors rushing you with their, “English? Deutsch? Français?”, which might prompt you to find the nearest trail and lose yourself again in the undergrowth.
The most popular approach is from a Gellért Baths, direction but you can also start at the foot of Erzsébet hid, by the Szent Gellért statue, or take a #8 bus to Sánc utca for a lengthier exploration.
Jacob P.
If you listen to anyone talking about the Second World War, and more specifically, the systematic extermination of Europe's Jewish population, you will more-likely-than-not hear some variation on the phrase ‘Lest we forget.’
The poignant Jewish memorial on the Pest bank of the Danube is so discreet that you're unlikely to spot it. If you try to find it from the direction of the Parliament, you may find yourself dodging cars and leaping barriers to get there. Alternatively, take the more sensible route, along the river from the Chain Bridge and you’ll find a series of shoes, cast in iron, no more than two feet from the bank.
They're beautifully crafted and the detail is superb, right down to the stitching, eyelets, laces and grip on the soles. Styles vary: low heels, high heels, heavy boots, slip-ons, shoes with buckles, open toes, and a tiny pair of toddler’s boots. They’re not new shoes and the small patches of rust are reminiscent of scuffed leather.
Even-more discreet are three plaques, in Hebrew, Hungarian and English:
Unknowing tourists might be inclined to smile on seeing this unusual, idiosyncratic collection, and those that spot the plaque will no doubt feel a pang of guilt. Of course, they shouldn't, but such a reaction shows what a human memorial this is: something that connects you to humans who were treated as though they were not.
Tragically, the memorial is too modest for most. I sat by the river for half an hour and watched no fewer than three quarters of the visitors lightly kick the shoes, presumably to test their composition, before shrugging and moving on. (This might explain the absence of a few pieces.)
I couldn't help but feel that this gave the memorial an even greater depth: the world remembers the holocaust and doesn't so much ignore it as not understand what it meant.
The above photo was taken on May 9th 2007, when the shoes served as a focal point for "Zéró tolerancia", a day dedicated to speaking out against racial discrimination.
If you'd like another perspective on this memorial, read SF's entry here.
Andy Sz.
The poignant Jewish memorial on the Pest bank of the Danube is so discreet that you're unlikely to spot it. If you try to find it from the direction of the Parliament, you may find yourself dodging cars and leaping barriers to get there. Alternatively, take the more sensible route, along the river from the Chain Bridge and you’ll find a series of shoes, cast in iron, no more than two feet from the bank.
They're beautifully crafted and the detail is superb, right down to the stitching, eyelets, laces and grip on the soles. Styles vary: low heels, high heels, heavy boots, slip-ons, shoes with buckles, open toes, and a tiny pair of toddler’s boots. They’re not new shoes and the small patches of rust are reminiscent of scuffed leather.
Even-more discreet are three plaques, in Hebrew, Hungarian and English:
Unknowing tourists might be inclined to smile on seeing this unusual, idiosyncratic collection, and those that spot the plaque will no doubt feel a pang of guilt. Of course, they shouldn't, but such a reaction shows what a human memorial this is: something that connects you to humans who were treated as though they were not.
Tragically, the memorial is too modest for most. I sat by the river for half an hour and watched no fewer than three quarters of the visitors lightly kick the shoes, presumably to test their composition, before shrugging and moving on. (This might explain the absence of a few pieces.)
I couldn't help but feel that this gave the memorial an even greater depth: the world remembers the holocaust and doesn't so much ignore it as not understand what it meant.
The above photo was taken on May 9th 2007, when the shoes served as a focal point for "Zéró tolerancia", a day dedicated to speaking out against racial discrimination. If you'd like another perspective on this memorial, read SF's entry here.
Andy Sz.
Kozma u. 6
Pest, X, Tram 28 from Blaha [map]
Traveled via the 28 tram today to the largest Jewish cemetery in Budapest, the Rákoskeresztúr Jewish Cemetery. Located on Kozma Utca in district XVII, this is a huge gravesite with over 300,000 deceased individuals occupying the grounds. I can't verify that population figure but if I trust my naked eye 300k is not far off the mark because this place is really huge.
Walked among the rows and plots, sensory overload. Bauhaus lettering chiseled into black marble, sometimes with only the word "APU" (father). One was particularly eloquent and powerful - a large black panel with the name of the deceased over the place of his death: Auschwitz 1944.
The Schmidl mausoleum is by far the most famous of all the monuments in Rákoskeresztúr. A secessionist masterpiece designed by Béla Lajta, it was restored in the early 2000s. A flash photo of the interior shows the beauty and artistic imagination that went into this beautiful place of memorial.
There was one stone that jumped out at me, and I had to get a shot of it. It was the grave of Viktor Wittmann, who was unknown to me - but there was something about his monument that said "photograph me".
My 6th sense about these things is usually right. Turns out Wittmann was a Hungarian aviation legend who died in WWI. What was interesting to me is his connection with my man Frigyes Karinthy, a brilliantly funny Hungarian Journalist from the first half of the 20th century that I love. Seems that Karinthy wrote an exceptional memoir about Wittmann and his heroic exploits; so the headstone led me to another interesting literary work to follow up on.
The weather was beautiful and dramatically autumn, and the late afternoon light made the leaves pop against a gloomy sky. It was the perfect backdrop to experience the place, viewing the stones and crypts that are so uniformly elegant, dignified and moving.
Walked among the rows and plots, sensory overload. Bauhaus lettering chiseled into black marble, sometimes with only the word "APU" (father). One was particularly eloquent and powerful - a large black panel with the name of the deceased over the place of his death: Auschwitz 1944.The Schmidl mausoleum is by far the most famous of all the monuments in Rákoskeresztúr. A secessionist masterpiece designed by Béla Lajta, it was restored in the early 2000s. A flash photo of the interior shows the beauty and artistic imagination that went into this beautiful place of memorial.
There was one stone that jumped out at me, and I had to get a shot of it. It was the grave of Viktor Wittmann, who was unknown to me - but there was something about his monument that said "photograph me".
My 6th sense about these things is usually right. Turns out Wittmann was a Hungarian aviation legend who died in WWI. What was interesting to me is his connection with my man Frigyes Karinthy, a brilliantly funny Hungarian Journalist from the first half of the 20th century that I love. Seems that Karinthy wrote an exceptional memoir about Wittmann and his heroic exploits; so the headstone led me to another interesting literary work to follow up on.
The weather was beautiful and dramatically autumn, and the late afternoon light made the leaves pop against a gloomy sky. It was the perfect backdrop to experience the place, viewing the stones and crypts that are so uniformly elegant, dignified and moving.
SF.
Balatoni út [directions]
Buda, XXII, B150 from Kosztolányi Dezső tér
In recent years, you may have seen adverts for “Statue Park: Gigantic Monuments from the age of Communist Dictatorship.” You may even have ventured out to the back of beyond that is the 22nd district and followed the signs to “Szóbor Park”.
Now, some bright spark with an elementary understanding of English, and/or an awkward sense of irony, has renamed it... Memento Park!
Before we get bogged down in detail, let’s get a few things straight:
- The park, under whichever moniker, has a unique, truly remarkable collection of controversial treasure.
- At least two of the statues are gigantic.
- There are no rollercoasters.
- Whoever put this together did it without a great deal of money.
On arriving, you’re greeted by Lenin, Marx and Engels, perched in the arches of a faux-classical facade in red-brick .
“This crude, monumental brick wall has all the characteristic elements of socialist realism (pillars, arches, wall spaces)”, announces the booklet that you can’t read yet because you haven’t got as far as the shop. This crude, monumental brick wall has, in fact, gone out of its way to look nothing like socialist realist architecture: a blatant concession to the “if it looks too realistic, there’ll be trouble” school of thought.
I admit that it can’t have been easy designing The Park. It was 1993 when it opened, two years after the last Soviet soldier left Hungary. If anybody had dared or wanted to preserve the effect that the statues had when they littered the streets, they might have been lynched!
The red-brick theme pervades the whole park and does have the effect of undermining the statues' presence somewhat. The statues themselves are plentiful and varied, although the Lenin, Marx and Engels out there on the wall would really have helped to add a bit of familiarity, especially with the dearth of information on display.
Just a few sentences for context; and maybe some 'then and now' photos of where the statues used to be located, would have really brought the park to life. If you don’t buy a booklet you’ll be completely stranded, although you won’t have to endure the justifications for the positioning of the statues, which are crassly employed as a metaphor for the path of communism.
(Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969, above.)
The recent additions that prompted the name change are largely welcome, if not life-changing. A couple of wooden huts outside give a bit of background on both the park and Hungary's violent past - essential for anyone who's just passing through. There's also a video about Commie spies which is worth at least 5 minutes of your time, if only for the ancient film footage they employ.
Then, outside on “Witness Square”, or “the car park” as it might otherwise be termed, are Stalin's boots, standing almost as they did back in 56, following their owner's 'be-body-ing'. The rostrum then was somewhat more ornate, and obviously didn't employ red brick.
All in all, Sculpture Park, as it will be renamed in 2012, is an achievement in conservation rather than presentation. Hopefully, by that stage, the organisers might consider a facelift. They could do worse than take a few pointers from Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969.
Andy Sz.
“This crude, monumental brick wall has all the characteristic elements of socialist realism (pillars, arches, wall spaces)”, announces the booklet that you can’t read yet because you haven’t got as far as the shop. This crude, monumental brick wall has, in fact, gone out of its way to look nothing like socialist realist architecture: a blatant concession to the “if it looks too realistic, there’ll be trouble” school of thought.I admit that it can’t have been easy designing The Park. It was 1993 when it opened, two years after the last Soviet soldier left Hungary. If anybody had dared or wanted to preserve the effect that the statues had when they littered the streets, they might have been lynched!
The red-brick theme pervades the whole park and does have the effect of undermining the statues' presence somewhat. The statues themselves are plentiful and varied, although the Lenin, Marx and Engels out there on the wall would really have helped to add a bit of familiarity, especially with the dearth of information on display.Just a few sentences for context; and maybe some 'then and now' photos of where the statues used to be located, would have really brought the park to life. If you don’t buy a booklet you’ll be completely stranded, although you won’t have to endure the justifications for the positioning of the statues, which are crassly employed as a metaphor for the path of communism.
(Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969, above.)
The recent additions that prompted the name change are largely welcome, if not life-changing. A couple of wooden huts outside give a bit of background on both the park and Hungary's violent past - essential for anyone who's just passing through. There's also a video about Commie spies which is worth at least 5 minutes of your time, if only for the ancient film footage they employ.
Then, outside on “Witness Square”, or “the car park” as it might otherwise be termed, are Stalin's boots, standing almost as they did back in 56, following their owner's 'be-body-ing'. The rostrum then was somewhat more ornate, and obviously didn't employ red brick.
All in all, Sculpture Park, as it will be renamed in 2012, is an achievement in conservation rather than presentation. Hopefully, by that stage, the organisers might consider a facelift. They could do worse than take a few pointers from Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969.
Andy Sz.
Kossuth tér [map]
Pest Centre, V,
Kossuth tér (M2, T2/2a), 0 min
Budapest doesn’t have the highest international profile, which affords me a great satisfaction in showing people where I live. At Batthyány tér metro we head for the far escalator in a well-rehearsed act. My unsuspecting guest rambles on about something which will be abruptly forgotten as soon as we emerge by the side of the Danube. The Parliament’s score of spires reach into the sky, as the river winds under a trio of bridges before disappearing somewhere at the foot of Gellért Hill.
This is undoubtedly among the finest cityscapes in Europe, and the Parliament building is its crowning glory. But don’t satisfy yourself with having glanced over the river at it.
Getting into the Parliament is no mean feat, so a little guile might avert serious queues and mild sunstroke. English tours are by far the most popular so if you’re not too worried about catching all the facts and stats, it might be worth taking a chance on your foreign language skills. Visits are by guided tour only but they are free for EU citizens, provided you remember your passport. For information on tours and tickets, click here.
Any misgivings about the toil required to get inside are quickly dispelled. The route through the building is an acclimatisation to grandeur. I’ve wandered around a few cathedrals in my time but never have I seen such a concentration of grandiosity (bear in mind that I haven't been to Rome.) And yet, the fact that a lobby can be so sumptuous, and a staircase so magnificent, is mere preparation for what lies beneath the dome.
The ceiling of the cupola is a spider’s web of gold and green; a sixteen pointed star; the light of Hungarian democracy. It fuses effortlessly with the stained glass windows and is quite dizzyingly awe-inspiring. The centrepiece is the Holy Crown, the symbol of Hungary’s 1000 year history, first worn by the nation’s founding father, St. Istvan.
Meanwhile, a visit to one of two near-identical chambers, depending on whether the national assembly is in session, reminds us that this is a functioning parliament, which proves to be surprisingly modern. Each seat in a horseshoe of antique-looking pews is activated by a personal swipe-card, allowing MPs to submit their “yays” and “nays” electronically.
The success with which the Parliament depicts a glorious tradition of democracy is truly impressive, and shows no sign of the century of political instability that has accompanied its existence. For the other half of the story, turn to Kossuth tér itself, which bears one or two scars.
The Parliament lies on Kossuth tér and as the largest building in the country, you can't miss it as you emerge from the metro or tram stop.
parlement, parlament, congress, hub choice
Andy Sz.
Is there anything in Budapest you think we should have reviewed by now?
Mail us and we might just do it!
Andy.
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