Budapest is feelings. Emotions. Life and joy, grief, self discovery, decadence and exaggeration. 

I am sure I heard all the Hungarian words I know: lecso, goulash, falkanal, legjobb, furdo, bazus, rendorseg,egy, ketto, harom, kert… ok, there is more. Maybe I do know more Hungarian words that I want to admit. And please refrain from correcting my spelling. I know.

I needed a good amount of time to return to Budapest. The first few times I went back was not always easy. However, this time, even tough very emotional, Budapest filled me with joy. The city grew and become more international, more crazy party like – if possible – yes, way possible. Budapest feels alive and it seems that never sleeps. The streets are filled with young and old, Hungarians and non-Hungarians, drunken, stag parties from breakfast to breakfast, hen parties, posh parties, jazz parties, hipsters parties, underground parties, everyone can find his crowd here. 

Budapest feels free and easy, Hungarians don’t waste smiles around, they are stoned faced and when they do smile, you know it’s for real. Angry old ladies, young men and everyone that cannot communicate with you, will feel frustration and they will not be afraid to show it. I guess this is what makes Hungarians Hungarians: they are true and unapologetic for what they are.

Spring is the feeling in Budapest. You might think that 27 degrees feels like summer but in Budapest this is just a shy beginning of the spring. Trees are blooming, parks are filled with happiness and bikes, dogs and young love. Spring is everywhere. Terasses  exists at every corner, music everywhere, the Danube is shinning in the sun and there is a manifestation at Deak Ter. Loud and outspoken Hungarians are protesting against their government who’s planning to chase the CEU (Central European University) on the background of (their current government) planning to make educational institutions “more transparent”. Politics.

In all, Budapest hasn’t changed a bit, yet everything is changed. One thing that is still very upsetting for a Romanian eye is their refusal to take note of our country: in all bloody menus you can find Transylvanian vine or food, never Romanian. While they have Chile, France, Germany… when it comes to Transylvania – it’s never Romania, just simply Transylvania. Denying a country’s existence all together can say a lot about a nation. This is their least important problem in the current political troubled context. 

To end in a positive note, Hungarians know how to live and they don’t ask persmision or apologise for it. They simply do. 

Despite our tumultuous relation I feel Budapest gave me, to me. 

Love Budapest. Xoxo 

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