Budapest, I feel like we're just getting a little too comfortable with one another. I haven't even been bringing my map with me when I leave the apartment for the past five days. I know where things are; I know what trams to take; I know more about Magyar history now than I do about the American Civil War. I no longer feel like a wide-eyed tourist.

I'm gathering moss. It's time we said our goodbyes.

After nearly two and a half weeks, I'm about to Split for Croatia.


I learned a lot from the Hungarian people: Progress is not linear; disunity means the death of empires; not everyone prefers Adam Smith to Karl Marx; there is a place in the world where you can say "Jo, puszi" ('jo' pronounced 'yo,' 'puszi' pronounced ... just take a guess at how you say that one) and not get smacked in the face, since in Hungarian, all that means is "Good ... kisses!" rather than "Hey, ye of little courage."


I also learned the power of a first impression. I hated this place my first time here in October 2004. It was ugly, cold, gray, Communist, scary, dirty, terrible.

Then, I came back. I quickly decided Budapest was one of the prettiest cities I have ever been to; a diamond in the rough of the vast -- and extremely plain -- Hungarian Plain. And it took me over half a month to leave.

"I hope that you liked my country," my friend Orsi told me last night before we said goodbye, maybe forever. "But I hope even more that you will tell people it is a nice place to come to."

The weather was incredible. The beer was cheap. The women were beautiful. The hospitality -- with the exception of Jewish Communist Hungarian authors who kick me out of their mistress' flats -- superb.

Just take a look at the view from the bridge connecting Buda and Pest -- the bridge I've been walking across every night since getting kicked out of Kata's place nine days ago -- and make a decision for yourself as to whether or not it looks like a nice enough place to visit.


If I ever come back with some real money in my pocket, I know where I'm staying: the Gellért Hotel, lit up and calling my name from the Buda side of the Danube, asking me when I'm going to return and utilize the free showers and hand dryers in the Turkish bath connected to it. It may never happen; but if anyone reading this ever decides to venture into Central Europe, Budapest -- and this hotel -- is most definitely a nice place to come to.