Autumn above the City: Normafa

There’s a certain pattern to autumning in Budapest if you’re into catching the best lights and colours as they spread slowly over the city. Phase one, occurring as September turns into October is mostly a lull, when nothing seems to be happening, the temperature decreases but the trees seem adamant to keep their zesty summer shades.  But then suddenly yellow creeps on them as October progresses and there comes the next stage, late in the month and somewhat flowing over into November when all is aflame with the most varied hues of gold, rust and crimson. Then the end comes just as suddenly- at one point in November you just realize that everything is barren, it’s foggy and cold and you might have wandered into a very moody Gothic novel.

The bit in the middle is obviously the most exciting but also the most demanding- by the grace of the powers that be you need to have some sunny days, ideally during the weekend, so you can explore the city’s tree-proner areas. On the first such weekend this year we decided to venture on perhaps the most classic Budapest urban trek: Normafa.

Normafa is close enough to be vanquished with minimal effort, yet the trip can be peppered with various small pleasures: the cog-wheel train (though beware of old and partially deaf gentlemen loudly discussing their ailments, dead acquaintances and, naturally, romantic conquests), the children’s railway, the famous Normafa rétes, the Erzsébet lookout (which is technically on Jánoshegy already, but you can reach it by leisurely walking through the forest) and the chairlift (also at Jánoshegy, but see above.)

Having been there plenty of times it’s perhaps odd that I never really gave the name a thought- Normafa was always Normafa, because, well, I had no idea, but it looked like the most Normafa-est place on earth and that was good enough for me. This Winnie-the-Pooh-ish peace with the world was brutally interrupted by my almost falling over a wooden sign which, as it turned out, had been erected to commemorate the original Normafa, an impressive beech tree which had once towered over the area before being struck by lightning on June 19, 1927.

This was indeed a rather operatic exit for a tree which was rumoured to once have given shade to King Matthias himself, and somehow suitable, since it got its name from a soprano bursting into an aria from Bellini’s Norma under its shade. You might think it oddly fortuitous that a soprano would just happen to be there and even feel inclined to sing, but the place was a beloved hang out of National Theatre’s actors and Rozalia Klein had just received a gift from her enamoured public, hence the delighted outburst.

I then thought of what could make me attack an aria from Norma and I realized absolutely nothing at all ever in the history of time, but then I thought Liverpool winning the title would perhaps inspire me to offer my own rendition of You’ll Never Walk Alone, and that’s not going to be good for anyone. In case people reading this might jump to the conclusion that it’s best if Liverpool don’t win the title, you are much mistaken, I will just promise that should the title be won, I will retreat to Normafa and merrily keep very very very quiet- most likely only until a very very very small and very very very angry dog in a ridiculous coat will decide biting my ankle is just the thing to do on a lovely Normafa day. 

Summer of the Incompetent: How We Climbed Hármashatár-hegy

Every now and then I plan a post and then somehow things get out of hand and oh wow, it’s next year in March. To my excuse, our fearless outing into further urban forestage took place just before Sziget, and we kind of got busy with other stuff afterwards. Also, really, it’s only just September and the weather promises to be quite splendid in the weekend to come, so you might get inspired to follow our trail and explore Harmashatár-hegy. (In a rare flicker of knowledgeability, let me inform you that Harmashatár-hegy means mountain of the three borders and got its present name in the 19th Century,  as until 1873 it constituted the border of Buda, Óbuda and Pesthidegkút.)

To convince you of just how professional we are at doing things, let’s start with the fact that one of us was wearing flip flops on a forest trail- because, obviously, the title of worst urban explorers ever is something you must actively work towards. Furthermore, we hadn’t even really planned to go to Harmashatár-hegy, we just sort of went out in the worst summer heat, took a bus from Kolosy square (I actually had to google the stop to figure it out, and also concluded the bus must have been the 65)and it dumped us by a forest trail.

We then absolutely incompetently followed this trail until we noticed the TV tower, which is something we had always wanted to check out- except perhaps on the very day when we finally did.  The TV tower is one of my beloved running companions on Margit Island-quite naturally it doesn’t run along with me, since that is not a very TV-towery thing to do, but I like to measure my progress on the Buda side comparing it to the tower’s position. So it was great to see it up close and personal and muse on existential truths such as how at that very moment some (frankly very crazy) runners were circling the island, perhaps measuring their progress to the tower.

Once we passed the TV tower we noticed the presence of two restaurants nearby and decided to indulge in a plentiful meal. Unfortunately though our incompetence shone its dim light once again, as we did not take into account the fact that it was high season for weddings, and therefore both Hangár and Udvarház were engaged in such utterly preposterous activities.

A bit discouraged by this setback, we then looked for a trail which exists in the feverish imagination of both Google and Here maps, but fails to do so in reality. This lead us onto what was in all likelihood the mother of all detours followed by a rather steep descent into someone’s backyard. Judging by their unfazed faces, both at our arrival and that of a rowdy group of teenagers who had descended on an even steeper trail, this happens quite a lot and they really can’t be bothered anymore.

We, on the other hand, were slightly bothered by the fact that we didn’t really know where we were, but mercifully our maps could make better sense of our new location, and informed us that we had arrived in the neighbourhood of Táborhegy, which is charming albeit a bit too sedate for my tastes. The good people of Táborhegy, however, had the IKEA catalogue comfortably ensconced in their post boxes, whereas our inner city building was found unworthy of such honours.

Our trip ended here on the same note of general incompetence which characterized it throughout with the absolutely unexpected discovery of a BKK route. We thus became acquainted to bus 237, which connects Jablonka street (where we were) with Szentlélek square and dropped us off one stop earlier so we could, obviously, get lost looking for a restaurant we’d already been to before. (Namely Harapó Mókus, about which we wrote here.) 

Weekend Walks- Rózsadomb and Bits of the Second District

This was a walk we took in the weekend prior to becoming 100% involved with Sziget, so that is my grand excuse for posting them only now, but let’s say they are still relevant for a possible August 20th festive walk away from the celebratory throngs.

We started off from Moszkva square- where the newly opened Zing Burger establishment proudly sports the real name of the place. While we’ll grumble about the renaming till the end of the time, we must give it to the urban planners involved in the renewal project that fresh life was injected into a place which was looking ever more grimy and depressed.

From there we wandered into the mostly unknown, namely the sleepy residential areas of Rézmál and Rózsadomb- although there be no dragons here,  at least not at first sight, we found some pretty castle-ish edifices peering out defiantly from the greenery. We also startled some lizards and at least one cat, for the residents of the area themselves seemed to have retreated to the privacy of their hillside dungeons and mercifully taken their dogs too.

Although not all those who wander are lost, we most definitely were, and went full circle around Gül Baba’s türbe instead of taking the straight road to it- the türbe itself is sadly still closed to the public, but at last we could indulge in the somewhat startling presence of Gül Baba street, which has a decidedly Istanbul vibe. A few streets onwards, however, we felt as if we stepped into Paris, and here I will come to the point where I muse on how part of Budapest’s charm is that it has so many things going on within it, sometimes almost side by side.

After some caffeination in Törökméz, which, in spite of them name does not serve Turkish coffee, but pretty good Italian one, we descended towards more familiar grounds and went cloud hunting along Fő street, which is always a welcome alternative when you feel a bit overwhelmed by the sights of the Danube promenade on its left.