Delicious brick of poppy seeds

Now test me for heroin.

Where fireworks come from

  
The most memorable part of the fireworks were the large group of dancers on a stage in front of the Chain Bridge whose stomping dance and flailing costumes seemed to rise and fall with the show and intensified along with the grand finale. No doubt the sky-full of explosions was pushing the dancers, but it looked to me like it was the other way around.

Late afternoon holiday lull

The woman in front of us kept nodding off during the late afternoon outdoor mass which precedes the parading of St. Istvan's hand. It had been a long, full day already, but I attribute her plight more to the murmur of the monotone chanting typical of any Catholic mass.

When we went back down to the riverbank we discovered that others had a better idea for dealing with the heat and tired legs. 

    

We're still recovering

  
Over the course of the holiday, as we'd walk from one part of the city to another, the amount of ongoing activity made my head spin. An air race over the Danube, multiple fly-overs of military planes, acrobatic planes, acrobatic helicopters, dancers dancing the dances from the era of St. Istvan, reenactments of the crafts of the era, the bakers guild taking up a block selling and baking various breads...

We went home for a break during the hottest part of the day, and when we returned the dancers were still stomping, the bakers were still baking, and the planes were still tumbling. We had dinners of grilled meats and as afternoon turned into evening and the dancers were going back up onto the stage for more, the groaning of yet another or plane still tumbled through the sky behind Parliament, there were more and more people sprawling on the lawns among the flower beds. The amount and endurance of the constant activity was impressive.

    

Chasing the parade

  

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.

St. Stephen's eve

In order to simmer down the pagans prone to raiding and form a proper country, King Stephen (now Szent Istvan) Christianized and organized the wild bunches in the 11th century. Hungary's founding is therefor attributed to him. A dream he had early on is commemorated nearly a hundred feet up on a pillar in Hossuth ter (Hero's Square). In it, he's being crowned by the Archangel Gabriel.  

As I understand it, 45 years after he died his body was exhumed to be cannonized, only to discover that his right hand was still fresh, so they took it off. To this day it's kept in St. Stephen's Basilica, and tomorrow the "Holy Right" will be paraded outside as it is each year for the national holiday, St. Stephen's Day.

Everything is buzzing in anticipation of Hungary's version of the 4th. They figure town will be hopping because everyone is around due to it falling mid-week this year. Military marches, majorettes, the Lajos Kassai Horseback Archers, and oxen, pigs and poultry roasted over open fire, and of course, fireworks (or as I read in one paper, "sparkles").  We'll try to hit as much as we can.  I'm looking forward to the Szatmari plum cake made with plum brandy.

Surprise eclipse

This past weekend we were wandering along the Szechenyi Lanchid (Chain Bridge, pictured), which is closed to vehicles on summer weekends for the Summer on the Chain Bridge Festival. We'd gone a few times over the last couple of weeks just to eat the food, listen to music, drink beer, walk the bridge and look at the water, though mostly just to join the Budapesters outside in the summer for whatever excuse.

This time we'd walked from further up the banks of the Danube where we'd seen a full moon over some of the gothic buildings and so had been taking pictures. Since we'd noticed this earlier, we were  stunned to be browsing the booths on the bridge and suddenly catch that the moon was now a crescent, only an hour later!

I've never seen an eclipse by accident before, and it was made all the more surreal by the fact that no one around seemed to be aware of it. (Though we did overhear some Italians say something that included "la luna")  It was a bizarre and unsettling feeling at once.

                                

Hungarian park sleepers

I'm noticing that in the parks throughout the city, people love to nap in numbers I haven't seen before. I'll try not to speculate yet about what this says about the Hungarian character or the quality of life in Budapest or whatever, but all types of people  seem to love to enjoy beautiful summer days by going out in the parks and drifting off in the grass under the sun or a tree. The parks might be tiny, surrounded by buildings and filled with people, or the sprawling 300-acre Varosliget (City Park) or 1.5-mile long Margit-sziget (Margaret Island) in the middle of the Danube, despite all of the people around (or perhaps because of them) people love to sleep outdoors. 

Admit it: you would too.

Snoring on display

This man was snoring so deeply, his cheeks were puffing out and vibrating as he exhaled. He retained his dignity however,with his smart shoes and by keeping his shirt tucked in.

City park kolbasz

On our way into Varosliget (City Park) yesterday, we stopped at a vendor and bought some fairly cheap wine (no prohibition on alcohol in public parks here!) and two kolbaszok. Judging by the way the teen lounging in the booth grudgingly lifted her feet off the counter to get up and grab the sausages for me, we weren't expecting much once we sat down in the park. 

The moment we cut off a slice and started to chew our eyes opened wide. The sausage was so fresh and soft and meaty; I've never had a kolbasz that tasted like this. There was little of the garlic and fennel that so often overwhelms keilbasa I've had in the US. Here the flavors were straightforward and intense. The heat was tempered, and limited to the sweet heat provided by major paprika. It was mostly a giant punch of concentrated beefy/porkiness. It's been noticeable that meat here in general has a slight gaminess that adds intensity and richness but hasn't yet been so strong as to be off-putting to this palatte so used to blander meats. That same added strength was certainly present here.

Ultimately, we just found ouselves eating slowly, savoring every bite, almost with our eyes closed.