Well, alrighty then!

High around 80 today with cerulean skies, and the Beeb can't stop talking about the "heat wave" gripping the continent.

Took the subway to the Central Market this morning. The metro typifies Budapest: reliable, functional, a little beat-up but handsomer for it. The trams, too, having returned to their original yellow color, look like a million bucks.


The Central Market, at the foot of Szabadsag Bridge on the Pest side.


Fruits, vegetables and flowers on the first floor, prepared foods on the second.


Plenty of professional drinkers on the upper floor, too, getting hammered before noon. The hall opened more than a century ago. Sadly, all the Transylvanian marketwomen and their headscarves, all the Carpathian peasants and their wares, appear to be gone. What's left is rubbish. Hearing lots of American voices was a buzz-kill, too.


I want to continue to the southern end of town, but construction prevents any foot traffic along the Danube on the Pest side between the Szabadsag and Petofi bridges. So I cross over to Buda, which is where I snap this shot.


The Chain Bridge gets all the ink and traffic, but to my eye, the Szabadsag, or Liberty Bridge, is Budapest's most beautiful span. Note the Turul birds on each pillar extending their wings, preparing for flight. Some despondent folks still climb these pillars, threatening to end their lives. The fire department is usually able to talk them down.

Well, "unlimited beverage consumption" is the holy grail, innit? Not much can make me laugh out loud. Seen outside the storied Gellert Hotel and Bath (1918).


I'm looking for the Palace of Arts, which, incongruently, lies in the forbidding neighborhood that is the source of the ugly graffiti at the top of this entry. Shirtless men, young and old, crowd street corners, and crumpled aluminum tall boys litter the sidewalk. It is the first whiff of desperation I've sensed in Budapest. I am closely watched, but my skin color and haircut act as a kind of passport.

The arts complex itself is impressive. It's got a concert hall, a smaller festival hall, a museum of musical instruments. I need to come here a couple times next week, hence the reconnoitering.


On just my second metro ride, I encounter the transit cops. Sometimes they dress like homeless people. I think it's ingenious. Pay or don't play. The woman in the orange pants is now 10,000 forints ($50) poorer. Having purchased my two-week pass for $30, I feel I'm $20 ahead!


For god's sake, do not try to ride under the radar in Budapest. If you must, stick to the trams. And remember, if you're caught ticketless, you can always walk away. The transit narcs will yell at you and threaten to call the cops. They may even grab your elbow, but in the end they are powerless to detain you.

On my way back home I encounter the Inner City Parish Church (Belvarosi Plebaniatemplom). The Turks ruled here for about 150 years, starting in the 1500s (yeah, that hurt, and still does!), and this building was actually a mosque for a time. Some bits and pieces of the church date to the 1200s, making it one of the oldest buildings in Pest, though you couldn't tell from the Baroque facade. You can see, inside and out, where the dividing line between old and new-ish is drawn.


Even though I'm only 50 yards from home, I stop for a big Pilsner Urquell on my street.


This bar allows bikes inside and there are always a lot parked outside. I hesitate to align myself with the "bicycle community," but for a $2.50 Urquell, I'm willing to overlook the hipsters and self-righteous oddballs that tend to define it. And what a cute trike light!