budapest, day one: grand buildings everywhere

Yesterday began with a walk through the center of the city, past innumerable magnificent buildings. Budapest has many similarities to Vienna, but where Vienna felt in many ways like Montreal (albeit more expensive, stylish, grand, and generally European), this town has the distinct feeling of faded glory that reminds us both of Detroit, if the American auto industry had ever been an opulent Imperial state.

Our first stop was St Stephen's Basilica, which was full of golden splendour and rich red marble in every direction. Then we walked to Dohány Street Synagogue, which is one of the largest in the world and was the entrance to the Jewish Ghetto during WWII. It featured intricate geometric designs and fascinating light fixtures.

After lunch, we spent some time out of the increasing rain inside the Hungarian National Museum, which houses artifacts from the region from throughout history: ancient arrowheads, Roman stone carvings, Austrian Imperial artwork, Communist posters, and everything in between. The visit took longer than expected because Beccah stopped to read every poorly-translated informational plaque; she is now well-versed in a slightly garbled version of Hungarian history.

We persevered through the rain to reach a small museum in the former house of artist Miksa Róth, with a varied selection of his mosaics and stained glass as well as some period-preserved rooms. The kind older couple who ran the place had to turn on all the lights when we came in, and the woman fretted about our rain-covered jackets.

We grabbed a plate of hearty food from the Christmas market outside St Stephen's and ate it under a narrow overhang before heading home to hang everything in front of the radiators.