I landed in Budapest in the evening, daylight fading, to cheers from a raucous crowd of youngsters in the back of the plane, who by all accounts, seemed to find the routine landing something of a marvel.
This is my second stint in Hungary, having backpacked here with Kari and friends in 2008. We arrived then by train from Bratislava, with wide eyes and little money and frisbees to keep us occupied when we weren't gallivanting around. Back then we wandered around with little knowledge of the city, as you do in foreign countries, trying to figure out public transport and circumventing language differences and hoping to find some good food without yelp or recommendations. It wouldn't be like that this time around.
My Father, who had just flown in from England, was waiting for me as I walked out of customs and into the waiting area. We embraced for the first time in Hungary, our eighth country to share a hug, and then grabbed a taxi into the city.
After three years living in Budapest, my parents are headed back home, which isn't actually somewhere they have ever lived, but it's at least in relative proximity to where they used to call home before packing their bags for Europe. I'm here to help them pack. To enjoy meals at their favorite restaurants, to reflect over coffee, to walk their neighborhood and see the city through their experienced eyes.
Home for them is moving, but what a home it was.
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On Saturday we made our way to the Freedom Bridge, which spans over the great Danube River and links the Buda side of Budapest to the Pest side of Budapest. My parents wanted to leave their mark on the city in the form of a love lock on the bridge, joining a multitude of other locks, which symbolize....forever love. :)
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This is my second stint in Hungary, having backpacked here with Kari and friends in 2008. We arrived then by train from Bratislava, with wide eyes and little money and frisbees to keep us occupied when we weren't gallivanting around. Back then we wandered around with little knowledge of the city, as you do in foreign countries, trying to figure out public transport and circumventing language differences and hoping to find some good food without yelp or recommendations. It wouldn't be like that this time around.
My Father, who had just flown in from England, was waiting for me as I walked out of customs and into the waiting area. We embraced for the first time in Hungary, our eighth country to share a hug, and then grabbed a taxi into the city.
After three years living in Budapest, my parents are headed back home, which isn't actually somewhere they have ever lived, but it's at least in relative proximity to where they used to call home before packing their bags for Europe. I'm here to help them pack. To enjoy meals at their favorite restaurants, to reflect over coffee, to walk their neighborhood and see the city through their experienced eyes.
Home for them is moving, but what a home it was.
On Saturday we made our way to the Freedom Bridge, which spans over the great Danube River and links the Buda side of Budapest to the Pest side of Budapest. My parents wanted to leave their mark on the city in the form of a love lock on the bridge, joining a multitude of other locks, which symbolize....forever love. :)
