Budapest: Back on the Road (Again)
It’s been a minute since my last journal entry. In my defense, we were home for a minute—just long enough to remember that being home is almost as enjoyable as being gone. Almost. But the calendar has spoken, our suitcases have groaned their resigned groans, and we’ve hit the road once more. This time we’ve landed in Budapest, where the holidays sparkle, the skies are gray-but-not-menacing, and the weather is far kinder than anything I packed for.
But first a moment of gratitude. Thanksgiving was peak chaos, which in our family is another word for “perfect.” Cam drove home from Clemson. Chad took the plane to New York to scoop up Annie from Teterboro, then made a pit stop in Richmond to collect Abbie and Samson. And just like that, my whole pack was together under one roof.
Samson and Freddie roughhoused from sunup to sundown—Samson with his endless energy, Freddie visibly regretting every life choice that led him to having houseguest brother. At one point Freddie gave me a look that said, “Where is my boring older sister when I need her?” Three dogs, three kids, and two mothers made for a Thanksgiving tableau worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting—if Norman had worked more in the genre of “festive domestic mayhem.” But the feast was bountiful, the house was full, and gratitude was easy.
And just like that kids went back to their “homes” and it was time to hit the road. The trip that had lived on the calendar for two whole years—the Danube holiday markets cruise from Budapest to Nurenburg—finally arrived. My friend Kim sent me the link ages ago with a casual “Let’s do this,” and before I knew it we were registering for something so far out that it felt like planning for a future version of myself who may or may not have flying cars. Yet here we are.
Our flights were suspiciously smooth—Charlotte to Munich overnight, then a quick hop to Budapest. The only hiccup: our seats were by the bathrooms, but I slept so I can’t complain. We landed to a gray, expansive city dotted with beautiful architecture and Saint Nicholas Day excitement. I even ran into Saint Nick himself in the Munich Airport. (He looked well. Retirement clearly suits him.)
We’re staying at the Párisi Udvar Hotel, a place so stunning—with stained glass, carved wood, and general Wes Anderson energy—that I half expected a lobby boy in a purple suit to escort us to our rooms. I chose it partly because the subtitle said “Budapest Hotel,” and I was hoping for that Grand Budapest charm. I was not wrong.
After dropping bags and cleaning up enough to be seen in public, we walked straight into the holiday scene. The first Christmas market greeted us with hot wine, hot cider, and hot punch—three beverages that sounded festive until we actually tasted them. Kim and Chad bailed before the first sip; Brian, bless him, is always game. We each took a hopeful gulp, looked at each other, and promptly watered the nearest plant. Holiday cheer comes in many forms.
As we wandered through the city, we stumbled into Üvegház Glasshouse, a jewel box of a shop filled with the delicate, shimmering creations of artist Luca Kohut-Gorombei. Luca herself was an absolute delight—warm, funny, and the proud handler of a small “guard dog” wearing a sweater bedazzled with glass beads, presumably to blend seamlessly with the merchandise. (If Freddie ever asks for a bejeweled sweater, I’m blaming Luca.) We learned that many restaurants around Budapest use her work as centerpieces and serving pieces, which suddenly made the city’s entire aesthetic make sense: tasteful, glowing, and slightly magical. She even shared a list of her favorite local spots—always invaluable intel. Naturally, I left with a pair of her earrings made of tiny glass beads, because supporting local artists is important… and because they were too charming to leave behind.
Dinner was at Aszú with a very early 5 pm reservation, which explains why we were the only people there in a restaurant that was “fully booked.” When we left, two additional tables had filled—clearly Budapest operates on a different clock. The food was wonderful, and Kim and Brian’s willingness of ordering half the menu meant we got a proper tour of Hungarian cuisine.
The city glowed with holiday lights, and we soaked it in with a nighttime walk. And because no major European city is complete without a Ferris wheel, Budapest has one too—the Eye of Budapest. For three dollars extra, you can skip the regular line and feel like a VIP in a glass pod suspended over the Danube. Naturally, we paid the three dollars. The views were gorgeous, the ride served our real purpose: staying awake until at least 8 pm so we didn’t collapse into jet-lagged puddles.
And with that, Budapest welcomed us warmly—even if its hot wine did not.
