Budapest blends history, beauty, and the Danube

BUDAPEST -- My wife and I are good, perhaps slightly obsessive, planners.

So when we took off for Europe last fall, we went armed with lists, maps , and guide books, valuable advice from well-traveled friends, foreign currency, and clothing for most contingencies.

We were especially attentive to our cycling gear because the centerpiece of our trip was a weeklong bicycle tour along the Danube from Vienna to Budapest. Besides our newfound joy in cycling, the Hungarian capital was our fondest goal: My wife knows the city, and we both have Hungarian roots.)

The prologue was perfect, like the unseasonably warm weather everywhere. We flew, as planned, from Boston to London and enjoyed a short stay there. Then on to Vienna, memorable for its schizophrenic architecture (morbid monumentality in the public realm versus the lively charm of its residential quarters) and excellent food. Dinner one night at Martin Zepp restaurant in the ancient hillside suburb of Grinzing featured roast deer with juniper berries and was a culinary highlight.

But Vienna was also the scene of unraveled plans. At the appointed time and hotel, we met our cycling companions and awaited our Hungarian guide. We were met instead by a young Czech from the biking organization bearing bad news: The guide had backed out. We could cycle on our own with a GPS device and maps or have our money back. We accepted the euros, a clean slate, and a challenge: How to quickly improvise a week in central Europe.

We moved decisively, planning first to visit our son, who was working in Berlin, then go to Budapest early. We sprang into action that night. Travel tip: Good concierges are invaluable, and the more upscale the establishment, the better. So we crashed the lobby of a luxury hotel on the stately Ringstrasse and chatted up a savvy concierge, who did everything but actually make our train reservations to the German capital, earning a nice tip in the process. He even offered to escort us to the station.

The train ride the next day, much of it along the scenic Elbe River, was stunning, and the simple onboard food excellent. The classy, glassy Berlin Central Station offers an architecturally breathtaking welcome, but our two days in this sprawling, diverse city mainly provided a chance to hang out with our son.

With the help of a Berlin travel agent we booked a packed EasyJet flight to Budapest, and not long afterward I fell in love with this magical, embraceable river city. This is not my Hungarian DNA talking: Drama and romance define this metropolis, with the broad, curving Danube dividing older, hilly Buda from flat but vibrant, inviting Pest.

Nine bridges yoke the two parts of this densely built city of about 2 million, and there is no place anywhere near the water -- plied night and day by broad-beamed barges and passenger vessels -- that doesn't offer a spectacular view.

Although we walked almost everywhere, usually 10 or more miles daily, we wouldn't have had to leave our room to appreciate the city's moody beauty. Through the huge picture window of our room in the little Hotel Victoria, the busy Danube, several bridges, and much of Pest, including the striking, 100-year-old Parliament building, were clearly visible. Add the changing skies during the day, or the lights dotting the nearby Chain Bridge at night, and you had a formula that made getting out at all an accomplishment.

Also consider the nature of the breakfast included in the reasonable room rate at this modest boutique hotel. Served in its cozy street-side cafe/bar, it consists of custom-brewed coffees, egg dishes, smoked meats, good cheeses, cereals, fresh breads, and veggies including sliced cucumbers. And, of course, peppers. Hungary is the paprika country, after all.

There is so much to see and do -- and eat -- in Budapest that during the four or so days we spent there, we merely scratched the surface. Not far from our hotel was steep, rocky Gellert Hill, crowned with the Independence Monument overlooking a huge swath of the city. From the top are astonishing views up the Danube, north past Margaret Island toward gentler hills in the suburbs. Down toward the base of the hill is the art nouveau Hotel Gellert, with a spa featuring public baths. The city's many thermal springs and wells make Budapest's presumably therapeutic waters alone a popular draw.

Tired from walking, we didn't do much at night other than eat. One could devote a book to the art of goulash, Hungary's meaty soup-stew seasoned with paprika -- because, while served everywhere, its preparation and flavor is infinitely variable. I ordered it at least a half-dozen times and loved every hearty, mildly spicy bite. But the best Hungarian meal we had, part terrific food and part Masterpiece Theatre, was at Kacsa Vendeglo, or Wild Duck, a small Old-World restaurant in Buda. It is hard to say which was more memorable, the crispy duck with mashed root vegetables or the graceful entertainment provided by the waitress and waiter assigned to our table. Whether delivering sparkling water or our dome-covered, steaming plates of food, they seemed to be dancing a subtly choreographed pas de deux. The house violinist was prodigiously talented and thankfully kept his distance.

Almost every day we crossed the river on the handsome Chain Bridge and strolled into Pest. You could easily spend a fair part of the day just lolling along the Duna korzo, the riverside promenade, bustling cafes to one side, the water with its boat traffic to the other, perhaps breaking for a goulash lunch, then arranging a tour on one of many boats tied up at their docks. Only once did we use public transportation, taking the subway -- Europe's oldest, with toy like, yellow cars -- to Heroes' Square, a plaza flanked by the Museum of Fine Art and the Art Gallery. On this sweeping surface are the tall, slender Millennium Memorial and sculptures celebrating Hungary's warrior regents.

From Roman times to deep into the 20th century, the country has been shadowed by wars and revolutions. Diverse players in this harsh and bloody history have included Romans, Huns, Mongols, Turks, Germans, and Russians. Echoes of this embattled past lingered during our Budapest visit, in demonstrations against Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány. (We didn't actually hear, or see, the late-night actions, only read about them in the morning papers.) It is a striking paradox: Forged, and often damaged, in bloody conflicts, Budapest is notably welcoming and laid-back, as easy to negotiate (extremely helpful maps and brochures are widely available) as it is to like. There wasn't a sign of tension along the Vaci utca, Pest's pedestrian-only version of Newbury Street.

Fluent English is hardly ubiquitous, but shopkeepers usually know enough to facilitate transactions and offer basic assistance. High-end shops and inviting, if pricey, restaurants line the street, but informality in dress and behavior seems the rule.

At the foot of Liberty Bridge is the Central Market Hall, a teeming indoor marketplace in a memorably impressive building that resembles nothing so much as a huge converted railroad station. But the neo- Gothic hall, completed in 1896, is what it was: a place primarily to sell and buy all manner of fresh and smoked meat, produce , and spices (this may be the paprika retail center of the world), and, upstairs above the vast main hall, textiles and crafts. It is not to be missed.

Neither is the storied neo-Renaissance State Opera House, worthy as much for the peculiar involvement of its founding patron, Emperor Franz-Josef, as for its plush grandeur. Informative, anecdotal tours are available daily at 3 and 4 p.m.

Two houses of worship, among many in Pest, stand out. One is the cavernous neo classical St. Stephen's Basilica, which can be toured six days a week. The other is Pest's Great Synagogue, the largest in Europe, with a seating capacity of 3,000. Budapest is home to a large Jewish community, estimated at 80,000, and walking tours of the old Jewish quarter are available daily except Saturdays.

As carefully as we plan ahead, my wife and I often just let our feet take us where they would -- out Pest's handsome Andrassy Boulevard, up into Buda's staired residential neighborhoods, anywhere along the river.

We can hardly wait to go back to this most walkable of cities and put more miles on our shoes.

John Koch, a freelance writer in Cambridge, can be reached at jlivekoch@comcast.net.