View Larger Map
Wednesday, August 21st – Budapest, Day 2 – 9469 km
Everyone is watching Sky News this morning. The hostel uses the English channel as it is the language most of the patrons speak. There has been no attack on the Russian parliamentary building overnight but the situation remains tense. All the news anchors say this unexpected development may mean that the coup is falling apart.
At breakfast in the cafeteria, I meet Eero and Jan, two American brothers from St Louis. Both are of Finnish extraction and their parents are leaders in the Finnish-American League, or something similar. Jan, the younger one, is in his late 20s and has been working in Helsinki as an architect’s assistant for months, and brushing up on his Finnish. Eero is in his early 30s and has come over from the US to join his brother on a cycling tour in Hungary. They suggest I join them the day after tomorrow as they leave for Lake Balaton south of here. This is very exciting. I had planned to have three days off from cycling in Budapest but I would prefer to ride with them. I will have to cram in as much as I can today and tomorrow.
Jan has a fascination with architectural treasures in Budapest. Jan gives me a list of several attractions to check out this the morning. He has a list that he has been seeking out one by one over the past few days. Most of them are in serious disrepair, he says.
The first attraction is the Buda Castle, 50 m up at the south tip of Castle Hill, or the Varnegyed. I cycle there and pay my admission, spending an hour walking around inside and the Castle District to the north of it, both of which are very new in comparison to many historic sights in Europe. The castle has been destroyed many times in various sieges of the city since it was first built in the 14th century. Now it is now like a palace, started in 1870 and finished just before WWI. It is a hazy day and the view over the city is not too spectacular. Apparently, the Romans built fortifications here in the second century, partially because there are several hot springs at the base of the hill for which to build their baths, most of which are below the castle on the west side of the river. I buy lunch at a sandwich shop while I am in the Castle District.
My next stop is the Fisherman’s Bastion, a decorative terrace that is a faux-historic piece built less than a hundred years ago but made to look much older.
Seven pointed towers represent the seven original Magyar tribes who settled here in the Carpathian Basin around 900AD. The Fishermen’s Guild was entrusted with the defense of the city, which has been destroyed many times since, but the city still wanted to honour them. The Mathias Church is in the area and is beautiful, as churches go.
I return to the hostel before dinner. The news is still tense. Apparently, tanks controlled by forces behind by the leaders of the coup tried to move through a tunnel to attack the forces defending the Russian parliament and found it blocked by a barricade of streetcars and street cleaning machinery. Several youths tried to climb on the tanks and blind them by covering their slit windows and three of them have been killed. That seems to have been enough to cause the coup forces to back off. New correspondents are saying it is beginning to look like the coup has lost heart and is unraveling.
After dinner, I am feeling rested again. Having stayed in last night, I am in the mood to check out gay clubs listed in my Spartacus Guide. I ask Beno directions on how to get to a certain street where my there is supposed to be a popular dance bar. I mention its name in the off-chance that my non-gaydar isn’t working properly, but he unfortunately has never heard of it. He tells me there’s a bus that goes over the Lion Bridge that will take me in the neighbourhood, almost to its door.
The Budapest streetcar network works on the honour system. I steal a ride without paying to get to the bar. It’s a medium sized bar with a half-decent dance floor with disco lights, et al. It isn’t crowded but it’s busier than I expected for a Tuesday night. As I expected, much friendlier than the Why Not in Vienna. The men here act like it is a pleasure to meet me!
One of them is a fellow a bit younger than myself named Miki Alexy, a blond who works in a restaurant somewhere downtown. He takes a great interest in me at first, asking about my trip, etc, but with other things on his mind. He introduces me to Daniel, a young friend of his who has been standing behind him staring at me. Daniel greets me with a smile and a hand shake, and then steps back to let Miki continue his questioning. Daniel resumes staring at me with his dark smoldering eyes. They distract me from Miki very effectively. Eventually, Mike either catches on or else gets distracted himself, and he drifts away to greet new friends arriving.
Daniel is classically beautiful. That is, I mean few men would question that, even if steamy, slender, muscled 25-year olds are not their type. He has barely said a word to me up to this point, but he moves right into Miki’s place. He is clearly relieved that Mike has moved on and afforded him this opportunity to speak with me alone. Daniel’s English isn’t quite as good as Miki’s but that doesn’t deter him for long. He is from Romania, having come here as a refugee two years ago.
His reception in Budapest hasn’t been all wonderful as the city took in too many refugees and Romanians are generally assumed to be gypsies. He works as a gay hustler, a Gypsy profession for sure. Are you working now, I ask him, and he says ‘no’ with a tone of disgust. And then, more bashfully, he adds that he really likes me and just wants to spend a night with me. I am sleeping in a hostel dorm and he has roommates so we have no place to go. I lean over an kiss him and he responds passionately, uncaring of any reactions around us. He sticks with me the rest of the evening, sometimes holding me from behind or wanting me to hold him. As uninhibited as he is, he has a sense of decorum too, and won’t let me have more than a couple gropes of his hard crotch. He sneaks in a couple discreet gropes of his own when he gets the chance.
Ah, sweet sexual frustration—the story of my life. I catch the streetcar back to my dorm in Buda on the west bank after kissing Daniel goodbye for ten minutes. He really wants to meet me tomorrow and take me to the Kiraly Baths, a gay Roman bathhouse that he says is nothing like other gay bathhouses. We set a 3 pm time to meet at the west end of the Lion Bridge. I lie in bed in the darkened dorm room listening to my roommates snore, and dreaming of things I could so with Daniel.
PHOTO 1: courtyard of Buda Castle
PHOTO 2: gate to Buda Castle
PHOTO 3: Fishermen's Bastion
PHOTO 4: Fishermen's Bastion
PHOTO 5: statue of King Stephen
PHOTO 6: Castle Hill near Buda Castle
PHOTO 7: Holy Trinity Square in Castle Hill
PHOTO 8: Castle Theatre
PHOTO 9: St Mathias Cathedral
PHOTO 10: more of Castle Hill
No comments:
Post a Comment