Week Seventeen

It's Orthodox Christmas (they're still on the Julian calendar - they call it Pravoslavnik, or Old Slav: Pravoslavnik Christmas and the Pravoslavnik Cross - the one with the third, angled cross-bar), so Merry Christmas (again)!
First items were packed today, and we're pretty much all ready to go, but washing of clothes takes longer than expected so we delay by a day. Naturally we've planned for all the food to run out today, so we have to do a quick supermarket trip for one day's provisions and then eat out in the evening (oh, it's a hard life). Tomorrow we will catch an impossibly long (13.5 hours) overnight train north-west to Budapest: I'm not sure, but I think this may be my longest trip of the journey so far. Although the Balkan countries are generally fairly small, Romania is easily the largest and Bucharest is way over in the east of it (closer to Istanbul than to Budapest, which is so close to Vienna that it's virtually in the West).
Meanwhile, weather reports from Damascus and Turkey (both seeing snow) make me wonder where I would have been now if I hadn't stopped in Bucharest . . . they also make me wonder what central Europe's going to be like at this time of year. Watch this space.

Very little to do today, but Milla was late, late, late and we're almost late, late, late for our train (we leave the flat at 18.20 for a 19.05 train on the other side of town, and we end up having to catch the metro to stand any chance).
We eventually tumble into our compartment (booked seats), which has one other occupant but no lights. Our fellow traveller gets out soon, and the conductors manage to get the light working - hoorah! Unfortunately, we are boarded shortly after by four others and the compartment is full, cramped and (frankly) smelly: damned skiers.
Ah well, it's so good to be on the move again.

The train keeps perfect time up to Arad, where it stops for an our and a half, so I guess we're going to be late. After that it's the border - passport and customs control is a formality - and then we're into Hungary (country #18). Hungarian is an alien language, and contains very few Romance or Germanic clues to assist Westerners. The ground is covered with snow, though a lot less than Romania, and is generally flat (though misty). The Carpathian mountains are a huge U-shape on its side - we crossed the curve in Transylvania and since then have been following the flat (well, flatter) bit between the arms.
As anticipated, we get into Budapest (Keleti) station about two hours late (9.20) after perhaps 6 hours sleep out of 15.25 on the rails - for those of you who've just done the maths, I should explain that Hungary is one hour out from Romania. Our first stop after Tourist Information (where we queue-jump a bluff and endearing English gentleman looking for "classic" art - "Rembrandt, Rubens, shall we say"), then an ATM which doesn't like my Visa card but likes my Mastercard. There's a metro station under the station (true of all three major stations in Budapest), where we get 3-day public transport passes for 1700 forints (my first new currency since November, and I'm finding it easier to convert into Romanian lei than into pounds or dollars). These passes let us on the bus, trolleybus, metro and the HEV urban railway and we instantly dub them Mooltipass (we've watched Fifth Element too many times). They claim the Budapest metro was the first in Europe (1896 - when was London?), and some of the trains seem to bear that out. It now comprises three lines (red, yellow and blue) all of which intersect at Deak ter (ter is "square"). Red from Keleti, then blue up to the Diaksport Hotel (picked almost at random): it seems to have quite well-priced doubles, and is less than a cigarette's walk from the nearest metro station.
The Diaksport unfortunately turns out to be a nightmare: not only is it twice as expensive as I expect (penalty of not reading all the English language notices), but the double room is actually a twin room and barely large enough to hold the bunkbed - we'll improvise tonight, and switch accommodation tomorrow. Oh, and the wonderfully convenient metro (and trams and buses) mostly stop running between 22.00 and 23.00, so the hotel is too far out (all its life).

We lost some time this morning, checking into a hotel and arriving late, so today we'll do Buda (it's smaller than Pest). Buda lies on the west bank of the Danube and the only real surviving medieval parts are grouped together in Buda Castle, on a long rock overlooking the Danube (and hence Pest). We take the metro to the Moskva ter stop, from which it's a short walk uphill to the Vienna (north) Gate - the "Castle" is actually a walled medieval city. The National Archives are just inside the gate - a large building with patterned tiled roof: other buildings around the entrance are medieval and reminiscent of Sighisoara.

Further into the Castle, the buildings become slightly later - grand High Habsburgian - and the streets are suddenly almost Viennese: the effect is a little spoiled by the occasional 1970s-styled blocks of flats. Apart from the great views from the walls (both east and west - west is the modern urban sprawl around the Buda Hills), the most significant feature of this area is the Magdalen Tower: all that remains of a church destroyed during WWII (probably by us - like many of the old Habsburg lands, Hungary picked the wrong side). The outline still exists, and they've reconstructed one window to give an impression of what it looked like before.

About a third of the way south along Castle Hill is the magnificent Matthias Church, a white(ish) gothic creation with marvellous patterned roofs which dominates the Szentharomsag square and its OTT Holy Trinity statue. Inside the church is even more spectacular than outside - unusually, the walls are covered in murals: mostly decorative plants rather than Byzantine/Orthodox saints and iconographical stuff. Upstairs are, effectively, the crown jewels (coronations were held here): the Saint Crown is most impressive - it has a crooked cross on top (there's a story about that, when it was being smuggled out the country), and apparently is at least 1,000 years old!!!

The section of walls/fortifications behind the church is the most impressive on the hill - all in white, they are the Fisherman's Bastion (neoGothic, but in a Central European rather than OTT Victorian way). The views up and down the Danube are magnificent from here, but it's impossible not to use half your photos on the Bastion itself. One strange and unexpected view is the reflection of St. Matthias church in the new windows of the Budapest Hilton next door. The Fisherman's Bastion is also reflected, and we wave at ourselves.

There's another impressive building on Szentharomsag square, reminiscent of Aachen Radhaus, but it's at least partly a hotel now, has a big "Timberland" banner draped across the front, and is pretty boring so we decide neither to explore nor to photograph it. Instead, we head for the south end of Castle Hill and the Royal Palace (also referred to as Buda Castle, confusingly). En route we pass the entrance to the "Labyrinth" - they've converted the network of caves and catacombs under Castle Hill into a 1.2km tourist attraction of curious art works and props. It looks interesting and the air is warm down there, but it smells pretty bad and we decide it's not worth the 900ft they want. Further along, just before the Palace, is the Siklo - a steep funicular railway which climbs the side of Castle Hill: next to it is a winding set of flat steps, set in a little park, which is the alternative method of ascent. We're accosted by a wild-eyed (and wild-mustached) Hungarian Guide, who displays great knowledge of the city and restaurants and tries to convince us that he can save us money (unlikely, considering how much we wants to charge).

We eventually shake him and head into the Royal Palace, a massive Habsburg building which fills the last 300m of Castle Hill, complete with imposing facades and a large courtyard. These days, in the absence of Royals to fill the Royal Palace, it contains a couple of museums, the National Gallery and the National Library. We try to find an exit directly south - there is one but it's blocked off - we exit east of the Castle instead and come out at the bottom of the Siklo in Clark Adam ter (Adam Clark was involved designing the famous Chain Bridge, an old suspension bridge over the Danube - in Hungarian, they put the surname first). The Chain Bridge, right next to us, is supposedly the oldest bridge here - in reality, the Germans blew all the bridges during WWII, so they're all pretty new.

We head south towards the other hill overlooking the Danube: this hill was the hill-fort capital of the major Celtic tribe in this region (before the damned Romans arrived). It's a steep climb to the top so (after stopping for coffee) we detour by tram to Moricz Zsigmond Korter and then catch a little 27 bus up by winding and zagging streets. From where we get off it's a short walk to the Habsburg's Citadella, an imposing fortress and garrison. There's an ex-Communist giant statue (woman with feather) at the tip, and fantastic views up and down the Danube as well as across to Buda Castle. There's also a little hotel/hostel (also the "Citadella") offering fairly reasonable dorm-bed prices: it's the low season, and their dorms are empty. We decide to switch to here after tonight: the view from the dorm window is magnificent, and it's pretty cheap.

After taking the bus back down the hill, we check out the Lonely Planet-recommended Mongolian Barbecue: 1990ft for as much as you can eat. It seems okay, but we don't book in - 1990 is still quite a lot for any meal, especially after Bucharest. We hit Pest instead, to find out what's on at the Opera during our stay (Tosca and Madame Butterfly, with Funny Girl playing at the nearby Operetta House). We do a little supermarket shopping instead, in this somewhat upmarket district, and then head back to Diaksport. Milean asks after the "sports facilities" which they mention in their advertising flyer, but these facilities seem only to extend to a pool table and a football table, both in the 24-hour bar. While in the bar, we sample one of Hungary's specialities - a distilled spirit called Unicum because it's supposedly unique. Well, it is unique, but Disgusticum would have been just as valid as a name: probably the worst spirit I've ever tasted (with the possible exception of some of that aniseed muck they drink in France).
Dinner is the last of our train supplies, in the small kitchen: there are a couple of Brazilians and a Mexican, struggling with the limited facilities of the Diaksport (no plates, or cutlery, and the hot plates aren't). Damned if I know why Latin Americans would come to Budapest in January: they seem to be wondering as well, suffering in the extreme cold. As we eat, we hear Dido's Hunter in the corridor outside, so it keeps its 100% record for countries I've visited this time out. Finally to bed and sleep, in our postage stamp room with its bunk beds.

Up early and out fairly quickly (a struggle and possibly new experience for Milena), to transfer our stuff to the Citadella Hotel. We get there at about 09.00 and discover that the 14-bed dorm now has another occupant, an Italian from Sardinia/Milan called Paolo. We exchange pleasantries and head out at about 10.00. After Buda yesterday, Pest is the obvious target for today.
First, at the bottom of the hill, we check the prices at the Gellert Hotel for a two-person hot tub: Budapest is full of thermal springs. A man there tells us they're for medicinal purposes only and tries to steer us in the direction of the swimming pool instead - we're not really interested in that, and catch a random tram over the river into Pest.
Quick geographical summary:
Pest is east, grand and flat; Buda is west, medieval and hilly. Major features in Pest are Andrassy ut, a major artery which runs NE (City Park) to SW (just north of Deak ter, where all the metro lines meet). Deak ter is half a dozen blocks east of the Danube, and is also where we start today's travels.

As the mist begins to clear (yes - misty again this morning), we head north to St. Stephen's Basilica (St. Iztvan in Hungarian), the largest church in Budapest and second largest in Hungary (don't ask where the largest is - I don't know). It has a huge (black, outside) dome and some fantastic stained glass windows. There's a little display of gold artifactgs just inside the door including (oddly, considering we saw it yesterday) St. Stephen's Saint Crown. I take a photo before we discover that it's a recent porcelain replica. They don't mention that the original is just over the river in St. Matthias, so I guess there's some bad feeling there. The other notable feature is the chapel at the back, which contains (in a 40kg gold/silver casket) the right hand of St. Stephen (warrior king of Hungary, and fighter against other Christians). Putting 100 forints in a little box lights up the casket, so you can get a good view of the shrivelled 1000-year old hand. After checking the dull underground chapel, we leave.

In a straight line north-west from Deak ter to the river, lie St. Iztvan's Basilica, then the major Szabadsag square, then the massive Parliament building. Even though they're digging it up, to presumably put something in the middle, Szabadsag square is a wide open area surrounded by large impressive buildings. Best of these is the old Stock Exchange building, now headquarters of MTV (Hungarian television, not the music station). In a similar building opposite is the National Bank. The US Embassy is in the least impressive building facing the square, and ironically looks out over a monument to the Soviet Army.

To the north east of the Szabadsag square is the most famous building in Budapest - the massive neo-Gothic (and this one is pretty Victorian/French) white and red (and black from the pollution, like all the buildings in Budapest) glorious monstrosity which is the Parliament building. It's like . . . well, actually it's not like anything, so I hope the pictures come out. We can't get in today - there's some kind of conference on - but normally English-language tours run twice daily (at 10.00 and 16.00), so we put in on the "possible" list for tomorrow.

Next we strike south, stopping for a coffee and sandwich in a little pub en route: we pass through a few more squares (Budapest is a city of squares, normally lined with imposing buildings - at least in the centre) and end up at Vorosmarty ter, a nice big square which opens onto the pedestrainised shopping area of Pest. At the riverfront is the Concert Hall (overlooking the river, obviously), a wonderful traditional building, right next to the new, ugly and awful Marriott - it would be impossible for one building to spoil the waterfront of Budapest, but the Marriott is trying hard. We cut inland to the Great Synagogue, which is sometimes open to the public (like the Parliament), but not today (like the Parliament) - again, a tour goes on tomorrow's possible list. Then we head north through the Jewish Quarter (some interesting buildings and lots of stars of David), before emerging at the disappointing New Theatre (a faceless block, with two little monkeys).

On the yellow line (that's the old one - the stations are all tiled in white and red, and the top of the tunnel is only a few feet below the road: "the road" is mostly Andrassy ut), we head north-east to Hosok ter (Heroes Square). The square is at the end of Andrassy ut: on the other side of the square is City Park; on the right is an old exhibition hall; on the left is the Fine Art museum; and slap-bang in the middle is a great monument to Arpad and six trusted lieutenants - they all have names like Gog, Magog and Ug, and are dressed and armed like Conan. Also in white, two wings stretch out on either side, topped with war chariots and with statues of more civilised Hungarians. It's a curious monument, half-celebrating Hungary's political and artistic triumphs and half-celebrating a noble and brutal past.

On the far side of Hosok ter, across a yellow bridge, is City Park: under the bridge is all ice and there's an ice-rink being used for speed-skating on the right. Overlooking the ice-rink is the magnificent Vajdahunyad Castle (built in 1896 for the 1000-year anniversary of the Magyar arrival - same as the exhibition hall, yellow metro line and Hosok ter). This side of the castle is Tranylvanian, with square overhanging towers and balconies and so on. The south wing, however, is in an early Gothic style, and the east wing is Habsburgian neo-Classical, painted yellow-white and now houses an agricultural museum with a statue of a haystack outside. The whole magnificent mess is on an artificial island in an artificial lake (now frozen) in the middle of the park. It's unfortunately too late to take decent photos, so we'll come back tomorrow.

Also in the park are the Szechenyi Furdo thermal baths (romanesque) and, on the far side of them, an amusement park, circus and zoo (all closed). We hit the metro (there's a little stop directly south of the baths), and head all the way across to the Buda side, and Batthyany ter stop. One of the HEV suburban railway lines leaves from here, heading north, and there's a Vasarely museum up north which I want to see. The HEV is punctual, fast and free with our Mooltipasses. We arrive at Arpad Hid stop (Arpad Bridge - the same guy from Hosok ter, presumably) a little under an hour before the museum closes. For those who don't know, I'm into Op Art in quite a big way - Vasarely, Briget Riley and so on: despite this, I'm quite surprised to learn that Vasarely is Hungarian (he changed his name to something simpler when he moved to Paris). The "museum" (gallery) is fantastic - a major high-point of Budapest (which to date has been pretty good anyway), though a little rushed: the attendants are closing and locking the doors behind us. They have a lot of really good pieces, including some of the famous ones, and it's tragic that we seem to be the only people there.

After we are finally evicted we return to Batthyany, where there's a market (closing) and a Spar supermarket (open) and we stock up on supplies. There's also a little pancake restaurant, but Milena drags me away from it. After all, we've just bought supplies for this evening and we've already grabbed a pastry 'n' cheese snack (wonderful) from the station: Hungary is like Austria and parts of Germany when it comes to rows upon rows of little shops selling fantastic cakes. Instead of eating pancakes we return to the hotel, using the 19 tram which runs all along the Buda side of the Danube, and gives excellent views of Pest (it also winds down and bends sharply around the end of the Chain Bridge). The climb back up to the hotel also has magnificent views of Pest and Buda, all lit up at night and reflected in the Danube - from the window of the room it ain't bad either.

Interestingly, some of the sheets in the hotel are marked with "Citadella Hotel", while others are stamped "Motel Venus" - I have at least seven theories to account for this, ranging from the banal to the unlikely.
Paolo goes out in the evening (he shares a beer with us - good guy), but we stay in and eat cheese and salami and bread (rather than pancakes): ah well, at least we have an early-ish evening.

Up and early, up and at 'em (after a breakfast of capuccino, chocolate and vodka - again), and down the hill on our favourite No. 27 bus a little after 09.00. A lot of the buses and trams in Budapest have electronic signs in them which tell you what the next stop is, and what other buses/trams you can take from there, and what the time is. Great in theory, and largely accurate, but so far we haven't seen a time on any bus or tram which is right (they're all different). Today will mainly be for tidying up loose ends and taking photos in decent light, before heading north towards Slovakia.

The day starts on a downer: the Hungarians put all their big communist statues and monuments in a theme park ("Statue Park") in the outskirts of Budapest. Only that morning, we see a leaflet which tells us that in winter it's only open at weekends. Damn - it was one of the things on my "must be seen" list - hey-ho: maybe we'll pass through again on the way back to Bucharest. Instead, after buying film (and plastic flip-flops for Milena) we catch the 19 tram up the side of the river to the Chain Bridge, cross the Danube there on foot, and then catch the 2 tram up the Pest side as far as the Parliament building (stopping to take photographs all along the way).

We decide to give the Parliament tour a miss, and instead catch the metro to Deak ter to have a look at City Hall, which we inexplicably missed last time we were in the area. Actually, it turns out to be perfectly explicable - Budapest's local government centre is a large and dull office building with a courtyard. The outside (facing the street) is dull and regular Habsburgian: the inside (facing the courtyard, and carpark) is grey mid-twentieth century concrete. Ah well - instead we return underground and go back up to Hosok ter (nipping out at the Oktogon stop, because it sounds pretty cool but actually turns out to be an octagon formed by the shape of the buildings and the road junction) and Vajdahunyad Castle for some photos of the square, the castle, the ice-skaters, and the cool statue to Anonymus (the well-known author). There's a viewing gallery for the ice-rink, so that helps: it even has seats and heating and toilets, which also helps.

Next stop, the Great Synagogue: except that it isn't - the attached Jewish Museum is open, but we pass on that and head back to Batthyany for lunchtime pancakes and Fanta at the pancake place (way-hey!): one ham/mushroom, one cheese and two chocolate pancakes each for 540 forints (just over £1), and all eaten at a window overlooking the Danube and the Parliament building. Then onto the HEV again northwards to the old Roman settlement of Aquincum, established to the north of the old Celtic site - they preferred the flat ground, having more faith in their artificial fortifications than in the slopes of a hill.
Disappointingly, there's little more than the first 2 metres left of the amphitheatre: over the road is a collection of bits and pieces from Aquincum in a sort of museum. There are also some remains of the aqueduct along the middle of the road and off to the east - the best bits are modern rebuilds, the rest just lumps of fused concrete. We turn round and head back down to the Arpad Hid stop, where we get off and buy postcards from the Vasarely Museum (their shop was closed by the time we finished seeing the collection yesterday). The museum is in Obuda (Old Buda) district, and we wander away from the river to have a look and find a Post Office. Just back (100m) from the Vasarely Museum is the old square (Fo ter), flanked by nice and regular central European buildings, principally the Town Hall. Further inland is the remains of Aquincum's Praetorian Gate, and even further inland (in the underpass en route to the Florian shopping centre) are more excavated Roman remains.

As well as buying stamps, we do some window-shopping and, as darkness falls, head back south. En route to the hostel/hotel, I take a few long-exposure shots - I don't have a tripod, so they'll probably come out quite shaky (that happened last time I tried, in Cordoba). At the hostel, we chat with Paolo and write postcards, and prepare for tomorrow's journey to Slovakia.

Up and out and north to Batthyany, taking two trips without tickets (27 bus down the hill, and 19 tram north): our 3-day mooltipasses work on Calendar Days (ie. they expired at midnight), rather than being 72-hour passes. The HEV line from Batthyany will take us 20km north (it's the longest line, I think) to the small town of Szentendre: the journey only takes 40 minutes and costs very little, which factors have helped turn Szentendre (that's St. Andrew) into the tourist trap it is today.
Originally a Serb settlement, it became gradually Hungarian and Catholic: in the last hundred years it mutated into a sort of artists' commune-come-retreat, and that's how it markets itself today. The HEV and bus station lies to the south of the centre and, tragically, doesn't have anywhere we can leave our rucksacks (we're moving through today, so all our worldly goods and chattels are on our backs). Ah well - what doesn't kill us will make us tireder, I suppose. The first stop is the post office, and then north. The settlement is spread around a small hill overlooking the confluence of the little Bukkos and the mighty Danube - the Bukkos is just a baby river, with a couple of pretty footbridges over it. The central, ie. interesting, part of Szentendre doesn't stretch more than a kilometre from north to south, so it's only a few minutes before we reach the stream. There's an old Serbian church overlooking the bridge - square and steepled and painted yellow (rather than Byzantine), it's locked and we can't get in.

The central square, Fo ter (as in Obuda), is only three minutes' walk up a gentle hill: it's a pretty little triangular square (?), with a "Plague Cross" and a Greek Orthodox Church (locked) - from the outside, this church looks identical to the earlier Serb one, and is in a similarly shabby state of disrepair. The streets are lined with little artistic shops, selling little artistic (ie. over-priced) items. There are also an excessive number of museums to under-talented people I've never heard of. Down the hill to the Danube is lined with more of the same, and they stretch away to the north. Rugs, and pictures, and wooden items of various sorts, and silverware and lacework, etc. all intermingles with artificially urbane coffee-houses in winding cobbled lanes. It's as if a giant craft fair has put down roots and grown into a town. It's the kind of place which has locally-produced sculptures in every corner of every park - don't miss the painted finger just over the road from the station.

Following the Danube (and looking over Szentendre Island) leads us past another locked Serb church, again looking pretty much like the first two churches, and indeed pretty much past the hill and into the suburbs. We strike west up a ferocious flight of steps, and approach the town's dominant Belgrade Cathedral from behind. Painted red, it doesn't look much from the outside except locked. There's a little sign pointing to a museum behind the Cathedral: from outside, we can hear voices speaking Serb (Milla is excited, though they could have been speaking Bantu for all I could tell). Inside there's an old Serb woman (and others) - the museum is of Serbian religious stuff, and the ticket includes entry to the Cathedral.

There's some nice stuff in the museum, but nothing special: bibles, crosses, painted panels of saints, ceremonial vestments and so on. The striking thing is really where they're all from: these are mostly pieces of churches. Which means that the churches themselves must presumably be closed and demolished - from here we learn that there used to be a Serb Orthodox Cathedral in Budapest! This actually makes sense, since we also learn that the Austro-Hungarians appointed a Serb bishop in Budapest to minister to their Serb populations in Hungary, Croatia, Bosnia and so on. The museum is really a witness to the gradual erosion and elimination of Serb culture and religion across Hungary over the last century: Szentendre is something of a last bastion.
A woman from the museum escorts us back to the Cathedral, unlocks the door (with a seriously massive key) and lets us in. Despite the dull exterior, the inside is dazzlingly ornate and gilded: to help Milla take pictures, our escort switches on the lights at the altar. They have sky and clouds painted on the roof, so the effect is dazzlingly transparent.

Further along the hill (the Cathedral has a back gate but we miss it and slip/slide the long way round) is the Catholic church of St. John, in a little yard/carpark which offers excellent views across Szentendre. The church is locked, which pretty much follows the pattern of Szentendre so far. Despite this it seems more in use than any of the other churches, which kind of confirms that in the religious battleground of Szentendre (count the churches) the Catholics have pretty much won. All the Serb churches look as if they've run out of believers, and the Greek Orthodox church is grubby and falling apart.
Down steps from the parish church of St. John leads us to still more galleries and art museums, craft shops and over-priced coffee houses. After briefly looking at yet another church (SS Peter and Paul - originally Serb, but Catholic after being rebuilt - outer doors open, but inner doors locked), we search for the MicroArt Gallery, which apparently houses a bunch of really tiny sculptures - the kind you need microscopes to see. Disappointingly (it was one of my targets) it is closed: no idea whether permanently or just temporarily. We stop off for a couple of coffees and then head back to the bus/HEV station to catch a bus (hourly) north-west along the Danube to Esztergom (or Oestrogen, as we've taken to calling it) - once capital, and still religious centre of Hungary. Just as importantly for us, it's right on the Slovakian border. Pretty little Szentendre gets 2/10.

Finally we end up half-way up a hill at the back of Esztergom, in Marta Panzio: it's run by friendly Marta, who has Gideons Bibles in the rooms and perfumed bedclothes. Thanks to Milla we end up paying 5,000 forints ($20) for a decent-sized double room with sloping ceilings, TV and en-suite bathroom. We go out for a wander, sans rucksacks, to figure out what to see in Esztergom tomorrow. The main discovery is that the cathedral, which looked huge from a distance, turns out to be seriously immense and disappointingly dull up close: you could probably fit all of Hungary's active believers inside it. Its best feature is two flanking towers, which I think are disguised bastions.
Milla washes some clothes late into the morning: then sleep.

Up late - it's after ten by the time we leave: Marta is going out, but lets us stow our rucksacks there and keep our keys (so we can collect the bags later). Retracing our route down the hill takes us right back to the stupidly massive cathedral (it's visible from all around the town, and some distance beyond) - if anything, it's worse in the daylight: the scale is quite terrifying at night, but during the day you can see that it's just a big grubby box. Being Sunday today there are worshippers as well as tourists, and a service inside (inside seems smaller and more intimate than you would believe possible). In the crypt there are some dead Hungarians whom I haven't heard of, and there's a plaque up to Franz Liszt - whether he's buried here, or simply visited, or composed here I dunno. The plaque was in Hungarian. Also on the same hill are the remains of, and museum about, the castle/palace that stood here before the cathedral until the nobility upped and departed for Budapest in 12-something.

Down the hill to the shore (we did that hill so many times yesterday) for a wander round the Watertown district directly below the rock - the neo-classical Watertown Parish Church, which seemed to almost glow last night, is still attractive but disappointingly plain in the daylight (not sunlight - haven't seen the sun for ages). The rest of Watertown is also attractive. We cross the Little Danube from there and turn back into town (stopping at the Platan Panzio to check the price: 4,200, up from 3,300 in Lonely Planet but still the cheapest in town - moral: in Esztergom, book ahead). We admire the scenic flotilla of swans gliding up and down the river, and briefly tour past the Town Hall and the oddly arabic Technical House.

Next up - Slovakia!
There's a story, and tourist attraction, about the border crossing from Hungary to Slovakia at Esztergom. There used to be a bridge here, until the Germans blew it up in WWII: the Hungarians and Slovaks never rebuilt the bridge, and the surviving first span became something of a tourist attraction - it appears in paintings and postcards of the town. The border crossing here is well-documented and is achieved by means of a cheap ferry across the Danube.
Well surprise, surprise - they've rebuilt the bridge.

Suddenly sleepy little Esztergom is on one of the obvious routes from Hungary and SE Europe to Slovakia, Poland and beyond. Equally suddenly, things like the massive hike in local prices and the large number of new Panzios make perfect sense: they're going OTT in cashing in on this new situation - presumably Sturovo over the water is doing the same. Partly because of this, and partly because the cathedral is so naff, Esztergom only gets 1/10.

We walk across the new bridge (actually a rebuild of the old bridge), pausing at the middle to step over the red demarcation line a few times. Then the border control, which is on the Slovakian/Sturovo side: it takes about 10 minutes for them to put our passports through their computer systems. The queues of cars in both directions testifies that road traffic has the same time delay: to properly capitalise on the new/old bridge, they're going to have to streamline the whole process, especially in summer. Disappointingly, I don't get an exit stamp on my passport.

Final thoughts on Hungary?
There are a lot of blonde people in Hungary (really blonde rather than that dyed-hair thing): possibly it's just because there are hardly any in Romania that I noticed, but in general they seemed almost Nordic.
Also Hungary is considerably more expensive than Bulgaria or Romania - the differential is much more significant than I'd imagined. Hungary would still be a budget destination for north- and western Europe, and Japanese, but not really for anyone else.

Anyway, into Sturovo - the Slovakian town which faces Esztergom across the Danube: confusingly, Slovakia calls itself the Slovenska Republic, which makes me think more of Slovenia than Slovakia. As we saw from the cathedrall hill, Sturovo seems to be mostly grey and concrete: there are a couple of exchange places by the bridge, but I figure they'll be fairly bad deals - better to wait until we find the station and the train times/prices. This unfortunately proves trickier than it sounds. We ask a couple of people for directions: they tell us that the station is quite far, and that we'd be better taking a bus from the bus station. But hey, Sturovo's not that big, so how far can the train station be (especially compared to how far we walked in Esztergom last night)? And also, we don't have any Slovakian koruna (crowns) yet for tickets.
A wonderful Hungarian woman, with two children Zoltan and Iuliana, not only gives us directions to the station but escorts us along our way. Unfortunately the station really is a long way, mostly because it's not in Sturovo at all but lies to the north. After a few kilometres (!) our guide turns back after poiting out where we want to go (little Iuliana is tired). Milena is also exhausted, and I'm beginning to get worried - if the station is this far out then, on a Sunday, what are the odds of being able to get money out there? I have a sinking feeling that I'm going to have to walk all the way back into town.

Sure enough, when we reach the station the two exchange places are closed (one of them's the post office): fair enough. Pah. Milla installs herself in the heated staff waiting room, while I wander off to explore: there's a thermometer on the platform, which reads 0 degrees, so at least it's getting warmer. I discover we need 296 korunas for tickets: crossing the border on foot has helped our costs enormously. Although we've only lopped an hour off the journey (35%), we've taken $11 off each ticket (80%) - $3 to Bratislava, instead of $14 . . .
Thankfully, there's a petrol station just along the road from the station and I persuade the guy there to change my remaining 2000HUF - don't know if I got a good deal (doubt it), but at least I got enough to get us to Bratislava.
Two hours later our train comes in (there was one about fifteen minutes before we got to the station - probably should've checked Thomas Cook), and two hours after that we're in Bratislava.

The station's on a small hill just above and north of Sancova, the main east-west artery and street which houses the YMCA (our hostel of choice in Bratislava). Overlooking this end of Sancova is the Slavin War Memorial, curiously reminiscent of the Liberation Monument in Budapest. We walk up to the YMCA (only a couple of blocks away), but the man there tells us it is "finished". Whether he means permanently closed, or just closed for the season, we don't know and, frankly, don't care. Maybe they've been evicted, like the Salvation Army from Moscow.
There are a bunch of other cheap hotels in Bratislava, but most of them are seasonal (ie. summer only). Our second choice is therefore the Sporthotel, much further along Sancova and off to the right a little. We take a tram and, after one early alighting, we get off at approximately the right place and look around: no sign of the hotel. There is a little concrete clinic, and Milena finds someone in the carpark and asks them for directions (she's wonderful like that). The man's not sure, but when his wife emerges from the clinic she knows - they insist we get in, and then drive us the two or three blocks to the hotel.
Unlike the Diaksport in Budapest, the Sporthotel has some justifiable claim to the name - it's in a small stadium, which has presumably seen better days. There's a little cafe/bar on the ground floor, with loud music and louder arcade games: upstairs, the receptionist tells us 650 for a double ($13) and lets us choose from the available options. I favour a large room with a pseudo-leather door, looking onto the pitch/track (it's difficult to tell which under the snow). Milena favours a smaller slightly-more-intact room with a mirror, looking onto the road. As is now normal in these situations Milla capitulates and then sulks, so I win but feel bad - hey-ho, I'll survive. We visit the bulky but helpful woman at reception another couple of times - once to get a mirror, and one to get undersheets (some beds have them, some don't). Then we have something to eat from our supplies, and crash out in the grubby and shabby Sporthotel.