June brought a big trip: four days in Budapest for a friend’s stag do. In a move I stand by entirely, I took a room at the Hotel Astoria, the city’s grand old dame, while the rest of the party piled into an Airbnb, an arrangement that gave me plausible deniability, a proper night’s sleep, and a century of faded Habsburg elegance to recover in. The others called it antisocial. I called it strategy.
Budapest rewards wandering. The old city is glorious, grand, faded, and confident all at once, and we walked it properly, fuelled by lángos and goulash. We also took a short cruise down the Danube, which is the correct way to take in the city, the Parliament building, Buda Castle, and the bridges sliding past from the water.
I last saw Budapest in 2009, passing through with a rucksack on an Interrail trip, and I confess we did not take to it. The city I remember was grey and run down, still wearing the previous century heavily, and we moved on without much regret. Seventeen years later I barely recognised the place. It is sprawling and beautiful, the grand facades have been scrubbed back to life, and a lovely café culture has spread through the streets. Few cities I know have transformed themselves so completely, and it was a quiet pleasure to be proven so thoroughly wrong.
One afternoon we found ourselves at the High Note SkyBar on the roof of the Aria Hotel, beside St Stephen’s Basilica, where the terrace has just been taken over by Veuve Clicquot. We honoured this temple of champagne by drinking beer, several of them, with the Basilica’s dome glowing beside us and the city lit up below.
And then there was the shooting range, because it was a stag do in Budapest and some traditions are compulsory. I worked my way through several hand cannons, an AK-47, an M16, and a .50 calibre rifle, the last of which I can confirm is considerably louder than expected, and felt through the floor as much as heard.
Budapest deserves a longer visit than a stag itinerary allows. I will be back, probably with better sleep and a clearer head.
Charlton Krentz 