St. Stephen's day was a long, hot, sun-baked day in Budapest. We chased the military bands marching up Andrassy Avenue (At 9AM we were about 15 minutes late, but about five blocks behind the drums, so we leap-frogged them by hopping on the subway). After some anticipation waiting with crowds packed against the fences erected around Hosok ter (Hero's Square) we watched a formation of soldiers tossing and twirling rifles to the accompaniment of Survivor's "Burning Heart" (from Rocky IV) being broadcast over loudspeakers.
This last fact had us cringing and I was a little afraid that the expression of national pride might end up seeming cute rather than awe inspiring. Then I noticed the formation of eight marching in perfect unison with a forward step I hadn't seen before; the thrill fought through against the accompaniment.
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