Representative image of a ferry boat.
Credit: Pixabay Photo
“I did not come all the way to Europe for this!” I thought repeatedly to myself as we boarded our train to Budapest from Salzburg. We had not anticipated the weekend rush and were shocked by the crowds. Our reserved seats had already been occupied. There was no standing space as Romanis, consisting of snotty children and begging mothers, had spread their luggage and themselves all over. The harried conductor with her little knowledge of English directed us to occupy some seats, and we were on our way. Well-heeled passengers seemed unperturbed by the chaos. Granted, the view en route the five-hour journey was spectacular, but the unruly crowd and the dirtiness marred the journey.
It was only much later that I found out from Wikipedia that the Romanis (also known as Gypsies, although this term is now considered a racial slur) have their roots in North India! The complex and troubled history of Hungarian Roma is not the subject of a “Middle,” but suffice it to say that my first impression of Budapest was, “Not Europe!” The high-ceilinged and somewhat dingy railway station and the haggling cab drivers did little to alter that opinion.
But over the next four days, a different and lovely city, rich in art and culture and filled with beautiful monuments and sights, revealed itself. Budapest, Hungary’s capital, has two sections, Buda—the elevated portion on one side of the Danube River—and Pest—a comparatively flat portion of the city on the other side.
The imposing St Stephen’s Basilica, Hero Square with its lifelike statues of Hungarian heroes and lifelike horses, the parliament building, beautiful bridges, and well-laid out cobbled streets with innumerable cafés were the highlights of Pest. Buda—the uphill portion is a microworld. There were churches, palaces, and viewpoints to savour. Tourists explored it on Segways, on bicycles, in cars and buses, and on foot. Elderly but fit men
and women walked up and down the steep steps connecting the two parts of this city. There were private residences just off the narrow, squeaky, clean streets, and the silence and the beauty of the place made me long to live there for a while.
This contrast came to mind when my auto hurtled through the streets of Bengaluru on a recent drizzly morning. The beauty of RMV layout, Vidhana Soudha’s grandeur, and Cubbon Park’s vistas soon gave way to the chaos and squalor of K R Market and surrounding areas. Then it struck me: all cities have beauty and ugliness, rich and poor – only the proportions differ.