The fan in this flat does a valiant job, but it's fighting a losing battle against 38 degrees. I'm Bence, and this is day three in Budapest. The paperwork is done, the apartment is technically mine for the next few weeks, but today is about making this city feel less like a very long holiday and more like a temporary home.
First thing, coffee. And I don't mean the instant stuff. I found a place around the corner from the flat, a small café called Madal that looks like someone's living room exploded with plants. A cappuccino there cost about 1,000 forints, which is roughly three dollars. It came with a tiny glass of water, which is practically a law here. I sat by the window and watched the city wake up, trams rumbling past, the heat already shimmering off the pavement.
Today's mission had three parts. One: set up a proper bank account. Two: get a real Hungarian SIM card, not the expensive roaming. Three: buy a monthly transit pass, because the single tickets are going to add up fast. I'd scouted the bank yesterday, an OTP branch near the Westend mall. I won't lie, banking here is a bit of a process. You need your passport, proof of address, which for me was the rental contract for this flat, and they ask a lot of questions. The woman behind the counter was patient with my broken Hungarian. 'Jó napot,' I said, and she actually smiled. They're used to expats stumbling through this. It took about forty minutes and a lot of stamping. The account itself is free, but there's a monthly card fee, around 500 forints, I think. Nothing scandalous. It just feels real now, having a Hungarian bank account. I can pay for things without mentally converting every forint back to dollars.
Next, the SIM. I went to a Yettel shop near Deák tér. You can get a prepaid SIM with just your passport, no fuss. The guy behind the counter was efficient as anything. Five minutes, and I had a number. I went with a monthly data package, I think it was somewhere around 4,000 forints, maybe twelve dollars. I now have 20 gigabytes and a Hungarian number. It's a small victory, but it makes me feel a little less like a tourist. I can actually google things now without worrying about roaming charges.
With a bank account and a SIM in my pocket, I headed underground. The Deák tér metro station is a maze, but I was on a mission. I bought the monthly pass from the machine. 8,950 forints, about twenty-four dollars. I tapped it on the validator at the gate and walked through, a proper Budapest resident. It's an incredible deal. You can hop on any bus, tram, metro, the HÉV, even the little sightseeing boat on the Duna with that pass.
I rode the M1, the little yellow line, all the way to Hősök tere. It's the oldest metro in continental Europe, and the stations are like something from a dollhouse, all tiled and charming. Hősök tere is vast, the Millennium Monument towering over everything. It's grand, in that Austro-Hungarian way. I sat on a bench in the City Park, watching families with strollers and old men playing chess at the outdoor tables. The heat was starting to peak. I could feel my clothes sticking to me. I'd been told about the Széchenyi bath, but I was saving that for later. Today was about the city itself.
I walked along Andrássy út, the grand boulevard with its mansions and boutiques. It's the Hungarian Champs-Élysées, only with a fraction of the crowds. There are these beautiful trees, and the light filters through them, making everything look like an old photograph. I stopped at the Museum of Fine Arts, which is right next to the square. I didn't go in, but the building itself is a piece of art. Maybe another day.
Hunger was kicking in, so I went in search of lunch. I remembered a place from my planning, a spot near the Great Market Hall called Old Mama - Goulash & Langosh Bar. The sign said 'Goulash & Langosh Bar', which is basically a promise of a good meal. I sat outside under a big umbrella, the metal of the chair already hot to the touch. I ordered the gulyás, the real deal, a rich, paprika-heavy soup with tender beef and chunks of potato. It's not a stew like the tourist places serve; it's a soup, and it was perfect. It came with fresh bread on the side. The whole thing was about 3,000 forints, around eight dollars, and it was the best meal I'd had since I landed. I had a beer too, a Dreher. That was maybe 800 forints, a little over two dollars. Sitting there, the sun high, the soup warming me from the inside, I felt like I was starting to get the rhythm of this city.
After lunch, I walked along the river. The Duna is a moody thing, brown and wide. Today it looked like liquid glass. There's a line of shoes along the bank near the Parliament, cast-iron shoes, left by sculptor Can Togay and film director László ... I can't remember his name. It's a memorial to the Jews who were shot here in World War II. It’s a heavy moment in an otherwise sunny day. You see the beauty of the city, but you also see its history. It's a story of resilience. The Parliament building across the river is stunning though, all spires and gothic details. It's the seat of the National Assembly, and it's just a thing of beauty.
I crossed the Chain Bridge on foot. It's the oldest permanent bridge across the Duna, and despite being reconstructed after the war, it feels timeless. The wind picks up there, even on a hot day. It gives you a chance to breathe. On the Buda side, I looked up at the castle, which I'll climb another day. The heat was getting to me, so I found a shaded bench in a small park and just sat, watching the river traffic. A floating boat with a disco deck was playing what sounded like Hungarian pop. I have no idea who the artist was. It was gloriously tacky. This is what I love about this city. It has official grandeur and unapologetic kitsch, and it all just coexists.
The evenings in August are epic. The sun sets after eight, and the temperature finally drops to something bearable. I made a decision. I needed to go to a ruin bar. I know, I know, I've already been to the ruin bars, but this was different. This was going to be a quiet, local one, not the tourist-packed Szimpla Kert. I asked around, and someone mentioned a place called Instant, which is a massive club in District VII. No, that wasn't it. They said the actual experience is just walking down Kazinczy Street, the hipster heart of the old Jewish Quarter, and hearing the music spill out of doorways. So I did that. I walked down the street, past the Dohány Street Synagogue, the largest in Europe. It's a solemn, beautiful building. It's a reminder of the vibrant community that was here before the Holocaust. I didn't go in, but felt the weight of it.
I ended up at a pub that I think was called 'Mazel Tov'. It's a Jewish ruin bar, in the best sense. It's built in the courtyard of an old building, with plants everywhere and string lights. I was tired, so I found a quiet corner with a beer. The cost? About 1,100 forints, about three dollars. I just sat, watching the mix of people. Expats, tourists, locals. Everyone's chatting, some in English, some in Hungarian. The atmosphere is electric, but in a low-key, end-of-day way. I wasn't ready to go home, so I walked a bit more, down towards the river again. There's a street called Poszonyi út in my district, District XIII, that I'd heard is the place for a nighttime stroll. It's lined with cafés and little trees, and in the summer, the outdoor seating spills out everywhere.
I walked until I found the St. Stephen's Park, a small green space near the river. I bought an ice cream from a kiosk, a simple pistachio cone, I think that was about 400 forints. I sat on a bench, watching the lights of the Margaret Bridge reflected in the Duna. The day was finally done. All the errands were run, the bank account opened, the SIM card bought, the transit pass secured. I was officially a resident of Budapest, at least on paper. And in my heart, slowly, I was starting to feel it.
I headed home, my flat in Újlipótváros. The street was quiet now, and the windows were open, trying to lure in a breeze. I was tired, but it was a good tired. There's something deeply satisfying about a day of practical tasks accomplished. I'd made this city work for me today. I hadn't just seen it; I'd used it. I'd paid for things in forints, I'd commuted with a monthly pass, I'd eaten a gulyás in a market bar, and I'd watched a sunset over the Duna. Day three. I think I'm going to like it here.
That's it for today. Tomorrow, I'm thinking of exploring the Buda hills, a little hike to escape the heat. Or maybe I'll finally do that thermal bath properly, the Széchenyi, for the full experience. Tonight, though, I'm just listening to the sounds of the city from my window. The trams have mostly stopped, but there's a distant hum of a late-night bus. It sounds like home. Thanks for listening, I'll catch you tomorrow. Viszlát.