At least the day started nicely: it was sunny in Budapest, and there were plenty of shockingly yellow fields of rapeseed in bloom along the way. (And we passed Esztergom, which is impressive even from a distance.)
Bratislava's old town is small, but quite pretty, even with the clouds and rain. Interesting tidbit: due to the historical presence of Austrians and various other German-speakers in this region, Bratislava was actually known as Pressburg from the 10th century until 1919. (And there are still many, many signs and inscriptions here, from various eras, written in German.) Its modern name is derived from the territory that existed before Pressburg--Brezalauspurc.
It's got loads of these little courtyards, set back from the streets, and full of interesting little shops and cafes.
Oh yeah...and they have a massive castle, too, on the hill overlooking the city.
And then there's this guy, "Cumil," or "The Watcher." It seems to me like he's Bratislava's equivalent of Brussels' Mannekin Pis...a weird little attraction next to which everyone and his or her entire family must take a photo. (There are lots of interesting little bronze statues all over this city, actually.)
Dinner that night was pub food at Bratislavsky Mestiansky Pivovar, a brewery that's been around since 1752. Mike's eyes were far bigger than his angry stomach, and so I ended up eating more of his meal than he did...along with my own. Ugh. The food was great, but since I didn't anyone to be offended by how little he had eaten, I took about half of Mike's beef-noodle-carrot soup, and maybe a quarter of the fried cheese he got for a main (against my advice, of course; why anyone would order fried food with an upset stomach is beyond me, says the voice of limitless angry-stomach experience), as well as part of my own garlic soup in a bread bowl about the size of a basketball (garlickiest thing I've ever put in my mouth, but in a good way...but wished I could somehow have eaten just the bread soaked with said soup), plus a good bit of my plate of pork knuckle with chive and bacon dumplings, a potato crepe, and stewed sweet cabbage with peppercorns. (Look...we aim for authenticity. This is local food.) Yikes. By some miracle, I managed to not damage myself, however, and we both got some decent sleep in what has become our gold standard for beds. (Srsly, if you ever find yourself in Bratislava, stay at the LOFT hotel. Best beds and pillows ever, ever, ever. As in, we're trying to figure out whether any of the Slovakian mattress dealers will facilitate the sale and then delivery of an absolutely gigantic mattress from the Czech Republic to here.)
Day 2 in Bratislava was much, much more pleasant, as we awoke to bright blue skies, with not a stomach issue in sight. To the armory museum, then!
Past the Presidential Palace, whose gardens you could see from our hotel room...
...across this little bridge into old town proper (there used to be a moat here, for goodness' sake)...
...and to Michalska Brana tower. There's been a tower here since the 13th century as part of the town's fortifications; this version of it, however, dates to the mid-18th century (although they count it as the only remaining original tower from the medieval fortifications). And, awesomely, it contains 5 stories of arms and armory and city history. Yesssss.
Among the goodies on display, this gorgeous inlaid 18th-century battle axe from Herzegovina.
Some vicious-looking European maces from the 17th (left two) and 14th (right) centuries.
The biggest gun ever, with Mike for scale. I think this is an arquebus (or harquebus) from sometime around the 17th century.
View from the wee balcony around the top of the tower. Oh hey there, castle.
Next, we struck off to find the Old Town Hall, on the main square, which was mostly obscured that day by some sort of European cross-cultural exchange fair. (Festive, yes, but distinctly inconvenient for photography.)
Inner courtyard of the Old Town Hall. This complex of buildings dates back to the 13th century (!), but has been expanded/renovated several times since.
Behind the Old Town Hall. That rather imposing pink building adjoining it on the left is the Primatial Palace, built in the late 1770s, and currently serving as the seat of the mayor.
Next, we headed over to St. Martin's cathedral, which, as it turns out, is really difficult to photograph from up close. (That tower is tall, folks.) A church was consecrated here in 1452, but it has (as with everything else really old) been restructured numerous times since.*
Some really gorgeous vaulted ceilings in there, though.
Inside St. Martin's, we found several items unprecedented in our experience; among them, the altar of Our Lady of Sorrows (1642), which was commissioned and built based on a ghost story.**
Also unique: a window into the 11th-century cemetery under the floor (complete with skeletons).
Amazing choir stalls with soooo many little charming animals.
Like this wee dragon!
Painted wall documenting the Hungarian monarchs that were crowned here during the Ottoman occupation of Hungary (because the Turks couldn't conquer Pressburg!) between about 1560 and 1830. (Hence the crown atop the cathedral's spire, rather than a cross. And Maria Theresa herself was crowned here!)
Totally and completely worth a visit is the treasury, which is relatively smallish, and where one can't take photos, of course...but it's jam-packed with old vestments and documents and heaps of really interesting reliquaries (some triangular in form, like this one, but with these crazy carved stone wings on the sides that makes them look like Christmas trees, and some shaped like tiaras!) and, in the tower room above, just a ton of gold and silver chalices and monstrances and the like. I've never seen reliquaries this fancy before--so very sparkly and beribboned and bejeweled. (Just so you know, too, this particular reliquary was outside the treasury, and so: fair game.)
This bizarrely martial statue actually used to be the altarpiece, and is a depiction of St. Martin giving half of his cloak to a beggar (but, you know, from horseback, and with a sword).
Never seen a crypt like this before, either.
Some of the bricked-over tombs had these intriguing letters embossed on the bricks.
The tombs without any type of marker had the date of their last opening scratched into the cement on the outside, as though they were temporarily sealed in anticipation of the next burial. (This one, in 1777.)
Next, we were headed to a little Art Nouveau-y gem simply called the Blue Church...but what nobody mentions is that there's this gigantic, also Art Nouveau-y, high school right next to it. As it turns out, this thing was designed by the same guy who built the church, Hungarian architect Edmund Lechner.
Behold! The Blue Church! (Roof tiles by Zsolnay, the same early-20th-century Hungarian ceramics company that created the roof tiles for Matthias Church and the Museum of Applied Arts in Budapest.) Built 1907-1913.
The interior was, of course, not open when we got there. (Stupid weird operating hours that I didn't check before we went there.) Thankfully, one can peer through the gate to the inside.***
Mike pointed out that the "grout" lines on the exterior are actually tiny blue mosaics with wee little three-petalled flowers at the intersections. Lots of mosaic on this church.
It's almost too candy-like to be believed.
A little detail on the high school. Sheesh. (Is it weird that this, too, reminds me of food? But more along the lines of a fancy frosted cookie.)
After the Blue Church, there was enough time left in the day to squeeze in one more sight, so we decided to head up to the castle to see what was what. I was under the impression that the buildings were purely administrative, but it's not so! They have a nifty, if teensy, archaeological museum, plus a vast, vast central building that's partly government and partly filled with various exhibits.
The main building, from just outside its grounds. Naturally, there's been a castle here since about the 10th century, but this one--surprise, surprise!--is a post-WWII construction. (That second World War was hard on the cultural heritage of Eastern Europe, folks. Very hard.)
From the castle ramparts, view of the New Bridge (of which they're very, very proud) and the Danube, with an apartment block or two in the background.
Insane giant staircase inside the castle.
On permanent display in its very own tower is St. Stephen's Hungarian crown, from roughly the 11th century.
There's also a glorious, glorious room full of tapestries, most of which are extraordinarily preserved. The massively long one containing this scene depicts the Biblical story of Esther and dates to about 1576 (!!!).
Amongst a lot of other artwork (some really gorgeous and/or interesting, some not so much) was this astounding pencil drawing from around 1870. I thought it was a photograph at first.
View of old town from the castle walls, with St. Martin's spire on the left.
Walked back down into town and found ourselves at the foot of the House of the Good Shepherd, this spectacular little building from around 1760 that is more-or-less in its original condition.
Across from that nifty building are some remnants of one iteration of the city's defensive walls--into which St. Martin's cathedral was built as part of the defenses! (These walls probably date to the 15th-ish century. Maybe.)
The prettiest place in old town, in my opinion: the 14th-century Clarissine Church, with the castle in the background. Apparently, everyone else loves this view, too, as this photo is all over teh Interwebs. Ah well, at least I had good lighting. (Interestingly, the street running behind the church is entirely unrestored. It's a bit creepy.)
From basically that same angle, the other side of the church looks like this. It's a neat building, now used as a concert and event venue.
Wandered back through the main square, where Europe Day 2015 was winding down with a little music.
Yeah, those are Slovakian rappers. I doubt they're saying anything offensive, as the audience was full of families, but just in case, I apologize to any and all Slovak readers for both my ignorance and their lyrics.
We listened to the rap for a bit, then went to find an apero before dinner. We ended up at Zlata Koruna, one of the rather touristy restaurants in old town, but don't let that fool you: my white wine was excellent (oh, hello again, Rhine riesling!), and we shared a Cardinal's Toast--chopped beef and mushrooms in a delicious tomato sauce, on a thick slice of grainy bread, topped with melted cheese.
Dinner on Day 2 was at a fantastic little restaurant in old town, Prasna Basta (which is the site of one of the city's medieval defensive bastions--the name means "gunpowder bastion"). To get in, we had to walk down a narrow alley and through a gorgeous little tiered courtyard, and found ourselves in a round room with four large windows set into alcoves around the perimeter. The neat setting and the genuinely friendly welcome absolutely matched the tremendous food that followed: we started with a plate of pickled peppers/cabbage/cucumbers (the latter sour and savory, and flavored with bay) and pickled camembert (yum); then I opted for a whole grilled trout with almonds and lemon and mashed potatoes, and Mike went for the chopped pork and beef tenderloin in a pepper-tomato sauce, folded into a giant potato crepe (spectacular). As per usual, we claimed we were too full for dessert, but then were talked into splitting the terrific "Hungarian cake with cream," which had layers of custard, chocolate sauce, and tiny raisins. Truly a meal that makes me want to go back to Bratislava, if only to eat there again. (Like, now.)
Walkway to dinner. So ridiculously picturesque.
Our last full day in Eastern Europe began with pastries and coffee at Cokoladovna Pod Michalom, where Mike bought and scarfed the largest pastry I've ever seen in my life.
I kid you not. That butterscotchy thing was about as big as my face.
We caught the train back to Budapest, checked into our hotel on the Danube, and promptly headed out to check out the Szechenyi baths, the biggest in the city.
Doing anything involving the wearing of a swimsuit in public is really, really not my thing, but I decided to try (half-heartedly) to be a good sport for Mike. At least the setting was pretty, and the water outdoors surprisingly warm. Plus, that circular bit in the middle of the pool was this cool whirlpool thing, where all you had to do was pick up your feet and this really strong current swept you around the edge! Also awesome: the 34-, 36-, and 38-degree (Celsius, of course) mineral pools inside that huge yellow building. I could have stayed in the 36 all day: so relaxing.****
After the baths, we went back to our hotel room to clean up, where the view looked like this:
Yeah, it was ok. (Lovely location, obvs, but I preferred the service at the Novotel Budapest Centrum much, much more.)
...and then headed out for what turned out to be the starring meal of the trip, hands-down, at Csalogany 26. Rather than trying to name everything that we ate here--and we went for the whole-hog, 8-course tasting menus with wine pairings--I'll just post photos of both the menu and my first course.
I took Menu I, and Mike went for Menu II. As you can see, this was a meal worth enjoying, rather than trying to document everything, and boy, did I. (FYI, Hungary, while a member of the EU, uses its own currency, the forint. While we were there, the exchange rate was just under 300 forints to 1 Swiss franc, which is why these prices look so crazy.)
But look how pretty! This was my "tomato mousse with garden salads," and I have to say, I thought the plating of this meal was beautiful, and the portion sizing absolutely flawless. We went home full, but not uncomfortable (ahem, Barcelona, take note!), and enjoyed every single bite. People, if you ever find yourselves headed to Budapest, do not miss this place. Excellent service, tasty and interesting (and virtually unfindable, outside of Hungary) wines, and unbelievably great food.
Our last morning in the city, we went to find breakfast at the New York Cafe (another place which Gabriella had recommended), which, although packed with tourists, is utterly worth a coffee and pastry, at the very least. 'Cause then they let you take pictures.
Ok, obviously, you can take pictures outside without being a patron, and you'll want to. This building is also a hotel, and it's incredible.
Soooo many of these crazy faun-lanterns on the outside!
And indoors, even nuttier. This is where we ate breakfast.
One of Budapest's famous interior courtyards. These things are all over the place, but you'd never know it from the exterior (at least, most of the time). The others we saw were lovely, as well (...or filled with ruin pubs!), but not quite this fancy.
And with that, our Budapest-Bratislava adventure came to a close. We caught the mid-day flight home, then had a tasty Italian meal with some friends in the evening to celebrate on Mike's actual birthday. What a lovely way to close out an impressive and fantastic week. And you wouldn't know it to read all of my ridiculously lengthy blog posts, but there are so many things we missed: in Budapest, the castle in its entirety, the Gellert baths, the Memento Park full of Soviet-era statues, and the Museum of Applied arts, among other things; and in Bratislava, Devon Castle (that's a big miss), the Soviet war memorial, the interior of the Blue Church, the WWI exhibit at Bratislava Castle, their little pharmacy museum (which, as we've learned in Heidelberg, could be fascinating), and maybe even catching a show at the awesome Urban House. Sigh. Will be returning someday.
One final note: HUGE, ginormous apologies to our lovely Hungarian friends, all of whom, for reasons unbeknownst even to me, I entirely did not even think about consulting in the planning of this trip!! When we DO return to Budapest, you guys will be the first to know, and I want to hear about everything you can possibly recommend there. Heck, maybe we'll even be lucky enough to get you to come with us.⌘
Next up: our triumphant (...or, in my case, not so much) return to Belgium. At least the food was delicious.
*Just across the alleyway from here is the Catholic seminary of Sts. Cyril and Methodius, outside of which we saw a train of students in robes crossing the cobblestoned street from the seminary's big, green courtyard into a nearby building, against the backdrop of the cathedral. It was lovely and surreal and felt like we'd gone way, way back in time for a second.
**Seriously. It's a fairly convoluted story, and not widely available in English, but if you're interested in a quick summary, I'd recommend going to this document and skipping to the page that my browser says is 396 (although it's labeled 15 at the top). (Side, side note: apparently this legend factored into her life prominently enough that that document's author was inspired to write a nearly-500-page thesis about it.) And also, they have on display in the cathedral this handprint seared into both wood and linen, supposedly proof left by the ghost of his existence:
I dunno. It looks pretty fresh for having been made in 1641.
***Unfortunately, the organ loft (overhead) is not visible, but would have been interesting to see, as it was designed according to the specifications of one Mr. Franz List.
****Their brochure says that their waters come from a well drilled 1,246 meters deep, in which the water is 76° C. Whoa.
⌘I will admit, though, that I am aware that when I plan out any sort of trip anywhere, I turn into the giant kid from MadTV: "Let me do it." Even though I haven't seen that stuff since it was actually on TV, I still quote Michael McDonald's overgrown toddler on an alarmingly regular basis. ("Look what I can do!") For absolutely no reason that I can articulate, I love that huge, freaky kid. As I'm sure most of you are normal and have no idea what I'm talking about, I spent a good amount of time on the Tubes of You trying to find a decent representative video. The shortest I've come up with is this one...and he insists that you let him do it around 1:12 and 3:30. HAH. That kills me every time.
