It was hot in Budapest too, when I arrived there around midday. And all around the train station, there was construction work going on all around and I couldn’t find the bus stop for the bus that I was supposed to take to my hostel. So I started walking instead, with only a vague feeling of where I should go. But I had a map, and as long as I have a map I’ll always survive.
I did find my way, eventually, and after dumping off all my bags on my hostel bed, I asked the receptionist to tell me where I could find real Hungarian food. Food is important, and I had been told that Hungarian food is amazing.
And seriously, it was. I ordered some kind of stew with paprika, onions, tomatoes, egg and pieces of an incredible Hungarian sausage. It felt simple, like something people would eat at home, but still so good – spicy, but not too hot. Robust, but still fresh.
I finished it all and would gladly have ordered some more, but the young waiters had already looked at me strangely from behind the bar – blue-eyed girl, sitting by herself in a Hungarian restaurant with this huge portion of stew, cleaning up the last drops of sauce from the plate with the bread. I also needed to be able to walk out of the restaurant.
So, I paid and returned out into the Central European heat.
Katja Malmborg 