[Wednesday, 2:15pm; my home-stay apartment]
I just returned from a lovely, 12-day Easter Week vacation: eight days in Paris and four days in Budapest. I've been captured by Paris' charm and Budapest's friendliness (read: inexpensiveness).
Now, when I think about Paris, my mouth waters. I’m overwhelmed with the memories of perfectly-baked baguettes, cheap red wine, nutella-filled crepes, and warm chocolate pastries. When I think about Paris, I think about being outside: taking slow walks along the Seine; gazing over the city on the steps of Sacre Couer; sitting on the grass in the Luxembourg Gardens; waving at the passing boats at Pont Neuf; and soaking up the sun while a swing band, saxophonist, or cellist gracefully composes the Parisian mood.
And I think about the other sounds: the French accent; the obligatory ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Merci’ with every new encounter; the near silence along the river; the constant public announcements on the metro; and the growl of motorcycles through the streets. Of course when I think about Paris, I also think about the Louvre, the Champs-Elysees, the Eifel Tower, the Hotel des Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. But more than that, I think about the sidewalk cafes and restaurants; the outdoor booksellers; the kebab shops; the churches and museums; the statues and fountains; the boulangeries, the patisseries, and the creperies; but, above all, when I think about Paris, I think about the Seine.
And I think about the other sounds: the French accent; the obligatory ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Merci’ with every new encounter; the near silence along the river; the constant public announcements on the metro; and the growl of motorcycles through the streets. Of course when I think about Paris, I also think about the Louvre, the Champs-Elysees, the Eifel Tower, the Hotel des Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. But more than that, I think about the sidewalk cafes and restaurants; the outdoor booksellers; the kebab shops; the churches and museums; the statues and fountains; the boulangeries, the patisseries, and the creperies; but, above all, when I think about Paris, I think about the Seine.
Budapest was different. Budapest almost could have been a small city in Canada or the northwestern US, but with much more history. When I think about Budapest, I think about centuries-old buildings mixed with contemporary culture. I think about St. Stevens Basilica, the Great Market Hall, the Citadella on top of Gellert Hill, Buda Caste, Heroes’ Square, the bridges and, of course, the Danube River. I think about the pizza-like langos, sweet crepes, pretzel towers, cheap beer, kebabs, and the enormous servings of goulash, spiced meat, and savory vegetables at the For Sale Pub.
A cheap, relaxed, friendly city, Budapest was the perfect complement to my week in Paris. It doesn't have the well-known character that Paris has, but when the beer in Budapest is over three times cheaper than in Paris, few are complaining...
A cheap, relaxed, friendly city, Budapest was the perfect complement to my week in Paris. It doesn't have the well-known character that Paris has, but when the beer in Budapest is over three times cheaper than in Paris, few are complaining...
Most remarkable part of my 12-day trip: the 2-hour Palm Sunday mass at the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, all of it in French.
Special thanks to Teddy Altepeter for letting me stay at his apartment and for showing me all Paris has to offer.
I’m back in Madrid for three days before I head off to Tarragona, Spain for the weekend.
As always, I’d love to hear any comments, questions, or updates from the States: charliemegaman@yahoo.com
Enjoy the pics,
Chas
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