Monday, 9th June

On Monday, Jerry decided that we should all expereince the public transport system, since he had bought tickets for all four days. To do this we had to go to the underground station which was in the opposite direction to the required tram stop. However we were soon back, ticket in hand, to get the tram to the Chain Bridge. We spent most of the trip trying to destroy our tickets in the ticket machines which we did not fully understand. Fortunately no one asked us for them. We crossed the bridge and took the funicular railway up to Castle Hill.

The plan was to go into the museum now housed in the Buda Castle Palace. But our planning proved to somewhat awry when we arrived to find it closed on Mondays. So to lick our wounds, we dropped into the adjacent café bar where they proceeded to try and fleece us.

There were some good views over the river and the city from the Palace grounds.

As we were crossing the square at the top of the funicular railway, this delightful Hungarian started talking to us. He had a small bag over his shoulder to house his tips and looked like an offical guide. Alan, having had practice in Egypt, avoided eye contact and kept on walking. Jerry, however, made the mistake of humouring him. About half an hour later Jerry had come to the conclusion that this chat might not be gratis, as it were. About another half hour later, Jerry eventually extracted himself with the word “Munkeys!” ringing in his ears. This is apparently Hungarian for “Oh, how I like tourists! Have a nice day.”

Whilst up on Castle Hill we went into a church which could have been Matthias Church. In this area, where there were some artists and a couple of falconers, we stopped at the restaurant which had fabulous views over Pest on the other side of the river. The restaurant, although open air, had its own string quartet who played for us. Geraint added another CD to his collection of violin music.

We returned down the funiular railway and started to walk along the river bank towards Margaret Island. It was at this point that the heavens opened and we took shelter in a bus shelter until it had eased off. When we reached the island, the ground was pretty soggy. As we walked along the island, we were appreciative of having Chris with us as he managed to spot a Nightingale. We also saw a pair of Nuthatches.

Near the water tower, we stopped at a café bar for tea. We were asked if we wanted black tea or green tea. We decided on black. Little did we know that “black” is Hunarian for “red” as we discovered when the tea arrived.

Having walked the entire length of the island, the plan was to make use of our public transport tickets and get a bus back to at least the east bank. Having totally cracked the bus time table at the bus stop we confidently boarded the bus which proceeded as expected back along the island. At the end of the island a left turn was needed onto the bridge to take us to the east bank. However, the Hungarian for “right” is “left” and the bus efficiently despatched us further away from our destination. We jumped off as soon as we could and were faced with a fair old walk back to the hotel. How’s your feet Fiona?

In the evening, after again trawling around a few eating establishments, we returned to the same place as the previous night. We had another good night there until late when they played “The Last Post” to indicate it was time to go.