Balaton Part II: Return of the Balaton

A mere two weeks after a rough weekend at Balaton, the largest lake in Hungary, I experienced a profound sense of deja-vu as I embarked on yet another train to the lake. This time, it would be different. I didn't have a bike, and I was heading down (with friend Eric) to meet some (other) friends at a lakeside town called Révfülöp.

Nothing was going to go wrong!

Well, when the conductor came down the aisle and checked our ticket, his face scrunched up in the way I was so familiar. We were supposed to have transferred at Székesfehérvár, and now we were stuck on a train bound for the south of the lake instead of the north.

Well, no matter. Eric and I reasoned it would be easy enough to take the ferry across the lake to Tihany, and from there find another train heading to Révfülöp.

I won't bore you with the details, but we ended up taking a ferry, hitchhiking on a hillside trolley, taking a bus to Balatonfüred, then finally the train to Révfülöp. But but BUT the weather was absolutely beautiful, and, honestly, I was happy to get to see Tihany and ferry across the lake (I really really like ferries).

Me before the ferry.

Honestly it's fine to get lost when your surroundings look like this.

Anyway, the weekend only got better after that slight mishap. On Saturday (after a brief icy dip in Balaton), we took a trip to an underwater cave river where we got to paddle a metal boat through the narrow rocky tunnels. It was sufficiently sunny and warm that I assume not a lot of people were interested in cave paddling, so we had the teal-clear waters and echoey rock faces all to ourselves.

Teal-clear water and echoey rocks

When we felt that we were nearing the end of the tunnel-loop, too exhilarated by our nautical independence, we tried to navigate backwards by pushing off on the rock walls. It was going well until the loudspeaker crackled to life-- "no going backwards please."

One friend, in utter disbelief, said "they can hear us?" only to receive a tinny reply: "yes, we can."

So we paddled forward.

Rocky caves

 That evening was a lovely one back at the country house. The seven of us answered the age-old question, 'how many mathematicians does it take to keep a fire burning?' Answer: seven and a lot of hard work. We roasted mushrooms, potatoes, and bacon-wrapped sausages well into the night and feasted while passing around a bottle of pálinka.

Embers of the seven mathematicians' triumph

The next morning, while everything was soft and green, we walked to the bus stop to travel to Héviz, a town by Balaton (but not on Balaton) famous for its thermal lake.

A beautiful morning, passing fields and vineyards

The town profits on the masses of old people who flock to the thermal lake for its supposed healing powers and year-round tepidly warm water. The lake was murky and green and smelled of sulphur, and had a temperature like cooling bathwater. We swam around among lilypads and flitting black birds and rested on old, slimy wooden "benches" built just under the water. I wasn't able to take any photos (my iPhone is sadly as non-waterproof as you can get), but here's one aerial view of the lake courtesy of Wikipedia.

Héviz from the sky. You have free range to swim anywhere in the lake if you pay the 2000 Forint fee. (Source)  

It's kind of incredible the kind of freedom you can buy in Hungary for just a few dollars. Some overprotective mother would have sued an American landmark years ago for allowing people to canoe in a cramped underground tunnel, or swim in a huge sulfurous lake. It's one of the many things that I will miss about living here.

Speaking of which, my time in Budapest draws to a close, and my last day is this Friday. I have a few more posts lined up about my time here, but they will probably be published after I leave the country. I'm sad, and I'll have to think more about exactly what I'll want to say.

Anyway, to sum all this up: I have officially redeemed myself of the bad luck of Balaton. It was a lovely weekend.

Thank you to everyone who didn't let me die at Lake Balaton

At some point last weekend, in a moment of clarity in between the tears and snot and so on, I realized two very important things:
(i) My day could have been a lot worse and in a lot of ways I was incredibly lucky it wasn’t and
(ii) My day was so crappy that, all things considered, it was kind of hilarious.

The weekend started out promising. The plan was I'd take the train down to Lake Balaton, around which two friends of mine had been spending the last few days biking. I'd meet them Saturday morning at some point halfway around the lake and finish the tour with them on Sunday. It was a foolproof plan. One might even say unsinkable. My friends had even found me a bike to use, a professor's bike from the program. On Saturday morning, my saddle bag packed with food, my helmet strapped, and my spirits high, I set off for Déli Palyaudvar to begin the journey.

Déli is a simple subway ride away from Keleti (no transfers needed). The station is across the river and some very busy streets. I left the house an hour ahead of the 8 am train, which was fortunate because (foreshadowing!!) as it turned out bikes are not allowed on the Budapest metro system. 

After I was kicked out of two different subway stops on the M2 line, I realized that there was no help for it; I would need to ride my bike to Déli. The prospect was unexciting. In addition to my complete lack of knowledge about where the bike paths were in the city, the roads to Déli both in Pest and in Buda (in an area of Buda I am very unfamiliar with) are quite big and busy. And it was raining.

But, despite all odds (and a very nerve-wracking bike through a tunnel), I made it onto the 8 am train with two minutes to spare.

I arrived at Balatonfüred right on schedule at 10 am and begin the bike ride around the lake. 

On Saturday morning, I started where the red star is, my friends at the two blue stars.

My route was a simple out-and-back. My two friends started at Keszthely at 8 or 9 in the morning and were biking towards where I got off, Balatonfüred. I'd bike backwards and meet them, then we'd bike together to our accommodations in Örvenyes. 

It was raining at Balaton, too, but the lake was beautiful; the water looked pearly under the grey clouds, and I was biking too much to be chilly.

A view of lovely Tihany

The trail, too, was a pleasure to ride on. Well-maintained and completely independent of the road, it was marked clearly by signs that told you which towns you were headed towards so there was no chance of getting lost. For the first three or four hours of the ride, I was having a lovely time along the lake.

Signs like the one on the right littered the trail.

I was just passing a tiny town called Zánka when I saw that I would be riding through some kind of bike tour finish: participants in casual athletic gear were pedaling into the town where I could see some sort of finish line + loud music + announcer. Seemed interesting enough. 

Pedaling over an increasingly narrow road, I rounded a corner heading downhill when I saw four people pedaling up the hill in front of me; two tour administrations in bright red jackets, a young man, and an older woman. I slowed down at the downhill and moved to the far right to let them pass. 

Then, without warning, somehow, just as I was passing him, the young man swerved into me and, in slow motion, we both toppled over in an epic fall, him and his bike on top of me and mine. 

I was dazed, but other than a sharp but fading pain in my jaw and what turned out to be several large bruises on my legs, I was unhurt. The young man seemed fine as well. He got up, inquired to see if I had died (I had not), then promptly biked away. The two tour administrators, who had seen everything, stopped to help me prop my bike back up. 

I insisted I was fine, wanting to bike away from this incident ASAP, but something was wrong-- my bike wasn't moving. I checked again, and my heart dropped. The front wheel had somehow gotten bent into the fork and was no longer turning. 

A photo I took later of the damage. 

Thankfully, the race administrators helped me carry the bike to the finish line of their tour, where I was informed that the bike was probably too damaged for their mechanic or for any bike repair shop on the lake to fix (the entire fork needed to be replaced), which effectively meant that I'd have to return back to Budapest having spent only four hours on the lake. 

I was not a happy camper. But I cannot emphasize how lucky I was that the accident happened in the middle of this organized bike tour. The hero of this story, a wiry tour administrator named Tamás, drove me and The Bike in the van to a bike repair shop at Balotonfüred to confirm what we already knew-- that it was unrepairable. Back at the tour finish, Tamás and the other administrators tracked down the guy from the tour who had hit me in order to ask about reimbursements for repairs. Thankfully, the young man seemed willing to give his contact information to help pay for the repairs of the bike. I even got fed goulash and Hungarian pancakes at the finish line, courtesy of their catering services for the participants of the tour!

If the accident had happened somewhere random on the lake, with someone who was not affiliated with some larger event, I have absolutely no idea what I would've done. 

Anyway, as Tamás and another administrator were driving me and the broken bike back to Balotonfüred (me wistfully watching the bike path I had labored down that morning unfold in reverse), I asked about the subway situation back in Budapest. I couldn't bike back home now from the train station. 

One of the administrators helpfully told me that the M4 line allows bikes on the weekdays, and if I got off the train at Kelenföld, a more remote station far from downtown, instead of at Déli, I could just take the subway directly into Keleti. Ah, I thought, how easy! It was 1 pm now, the train ride back was just shy of 2 hours-- I could be back in my warm house by 3 pm! (Having not biked for over an hour, I was nicely chilled now) 

I got off at Kelenföld, exactly as planned, and when I dragged the bike to the subway, the guards reacted as if I had tried to take a bomb into the metro, angrily gesticulating that I was not to bring my horrid bike on the underground. A passer-by informed me that I had to buy a bike pass for my bike. But it made no difference. The subway guards were not impressed with the bike pass, told me it was for the bus, and kicked me out of the subway.

So I went to the bus. Luckily, there was one that would take me back into downtown. When the bus finally pulled up, as I was hobbling through the double doors with my Great Burden, the bus driver angrily started using the word that was becoming the theme of the day "nem, nem, nem, nem, NEM!" pointing to my pride and joy, this lovely, broken bike. 

In defeat, utterly out of ideas about how to get back into the city, I went to the public transportation information desk, where I was informed by a very frustrated lady that I had to buy two new bike passes, take another train to another station outside of the city, then take yet another train back into the city to Keleti. Exasperated, she asked why I "didn't just ride my bike into the city." 

On the final train, when the conductor came to check my ticket, I was sweating in fear, sure that he was going to tell me that I wasn't allowed to ride this train, either. The conductor gave me and my bike and cursory glance, and like my own personal holy savior signed off on my ticket. 

The relief was so palpable that I wanted to fall upon my bruised knees in joy.

So, back at Keleti five hours later, the last leg of my journey awaited: the twenty minute walk home. Arms heaving, feeling like a Spartan warrior trudging through the rain with my poor broken steed, I finally made it home. 

So not a great day. But a week later, thinking back on it, I was incredibly fortunate that so many people were so willing to help me. Even though they'll probably never read this, thank you to Tamás and the other tour administrators for not letting me, well, die on Lake Baloton (and for feeding me!). You guys really went out of your way to help me out. Thank you to the three ladies at Kelenföld who independently patted my back in sympathy when I was trying to stop crying next to the escalators. Thank you to the information desk lady, who, while a little crabby, got me back to Keleti. Thank you to that last train conductor for giving me what was undoubtedly the happiest experience I've ever had on a train.

And thank you even to the other guy in the accident. Because without you, what would have been a routine biking excursion turned out to be one of my most important and memorable weekends in Budapest!

Bringing in Spring: Some outdoorsy places to go

I definitely had this conception that spring in Budapest would be a dull affair. Partly because in New York, the idea of a slow and steady rise in temperature to summer is nonexistent. It will be eighty on a day in February before snowing in April. And just when the weather seems like it's getting nice... BAM it's summer and every day is an exercise in avoiding heat strokes in muggy ninety degree weather.

So it's been nice to experience something like what I imagine spring SHOULD be: warm, sunny, maybe a little rainy, with steady temperatures ranging from 50-70 degrees. Spring in Budapest is BEAUTIFUL.

Ah, who am I kidding? Budapest is always beautiful :)

It's hard to stay inside when the weather is so nice. Studying outside may be a little counterproductive, but you gotta maximize your time in the sun somehow.

So I've been walking more instead of taking public transport, going to parks, etc.

City park: it was okay in the winter but now it is GREEN. A good place to study if you don’t need a table.

Also, the statues scattered throughout the city look more regal cloaked in green (or whatever...)

On the Pest side of the Danube, there are tons of statues scattered in interesting places/poses. My FAVORITE kind of park is a statue park.

Queen Erzsébet looking regal (in the Buda side, by the citadel)

In terms of some concrete recs, I have three, ranging from easiest to hardest to get to. First: go to the ELTE botanical gardens! The gardens are in Pest, an easy tram ride away, and the student price is only 600 forints. If you go on a weekday morning the gardens will be relatively empty and you can study/read/chill/admire the greenery to your heart's content. One caveat though: weekdays are also the days school kids take field trips to the gardens, so be cognizant of that!

Fragrant wisteria grows everywhere in the spring and might be one of my favorite things about spring at this point...

And here we have the requisite Asian garden.

Second: head to the Buda Hills! Some friends and I went to Normafa for Labor Day and picnicked there before hiking around the hills. It was honestly kind of shocking how beautiful it was given how easily accessible the hills are from downtown. Also, picnic food is the best food (proof: all things are better outside in 60-70 degree and sunny weather, therefore, food is better in nice weather outside).

It’s really too bad I couldn’t get a picture of the food. We ate on a grassy hill that made me feel like I was in a Monet painting

Walk around enough in the hills and you will stumble across this cool tower with sick views.

Sick views! Also the Hungarian flag.

Finally, I can see why everyone raves about Pécs. With wide plazas, a Mediterranean feel (must've been those occasional palm trees), and tons of art and history scattered through the city (also Roman ruins) it's just a cool place to walk around. We took a day trip to the city and had a lovely (albeit also sweaty- should not have worn jeans) time taking in the sites, views, sun.

I don’t think photos do this building justice. It was VERY impressive in real life.

It's weird to know that the semester is wrapping up, and weird to think about the fact that I'll soon be leaving Budapest with no idea if/when I'll be back.

We won't think about that for now!!

Happy Spring!

Istanbul Part 3: A Love Letter to Istanbul (+ Cats)

This is the third part of a three-part post about spring break in Istanbul. Check out Part I (where to go, what to see) and Part II (food) as well!

Orhan Pamuk, the Turkish best-selling writer and Nobel laureate, wrote the book that sat in my backpack on the flight to Istanbul. It was my so-called "spring break reading," and despite the fact that I had tried to start reading it a number of times before the break, all the italicized words and places meant so little to me that it was hard to stay invested. I was dreading opening it again.

Anyway, fast-forward ten days. For the most part, I explored Istanbul alone. I was lucky enough to be staying with some incredible hosts (who took me to their country home for the first few days of my stay and who I could speak to about my adventures in the evening) but for the majority of the time I was by myself.

What surprised me most about traveling alone was the fact that it was hard to get lonely. Part of the reason for this is the sheer wonderful frenzy of the city. Often in between trudging up the winding, cobbled roads inclining what felt like perpendicularly (Istanbul is a hilly city), or figuring out where lunch was going to be, or desperately hoping that the dolmuş, or mini-bus, was going in the direction I needed it to (a mini-bus is a strange cross between a bus and a taxi which picks up around ten people going in the same general direction and drops them off... whenever they feel like getting off), I didn't have the time or energy to feel lonely.

The first day in the city, amid figuring out how mosque etiquette worked, I found this lovely scarf for only about $2 at a local market. Ladies, either bring a good scarf with you or buy one there (there are innumerable places to get a scarf in Istanbul) for mosque entry.

I interacted with people more than I thought as well, in small moments scattered throughout the week. At the Basilica Cisterns, I met an old Korean couple who proclaimed Istanbul the "best city in the world" and told me where the best place to get kimchi would be. In transit on a ferry back to the European side, a couple with a young nine-month old son asked me to hold their baby, who apparently would not stop fussing until I did.

Taken by the lovey Korean couple at the Basilica Cisterns.

Hectic as the city was, I also came across a few invaluable quiet moments. Istanbul is not in general a quiet city. Easy counterexample: there are lots of cars and the drivers tend to be very free with the horn. But taking the ferry to the Kadiköy neighborhood on my last day in Istanbul was one such moment to myself. Away from the Historic Peninsula, the tourists are few and far between, and that cloudy morning I was alone on top of the ferry, sipping çay (Turkish black tea) and listening to the call to prayer echo over the indigo Bosphorus.

A quiet tea on the water.

I loved Kadiköy. One of the few places I went on the Asian side, the neighborhood felt deeply authentic with both an honest-to-goodness market (with actually cheap and good produce/dried goods/sweets unlike the more touristy markets) and cafes that were unabashedly cool. When the morning showers came, I hunkered in one of these cafes and finished the Mediations while sipping another cup of çay-- one of my fondest memories in the city.

The market early in the morning, before it got busier.

Beautiful produce later in the morning.

Undoubtedly just walking around the neighborhoods of Istanbul and taking in the atmosphere was a highlight of the trip. I averaged about 10 miles a day of walking, and finished the week with just over sixty miles under my belt. Besides Kadiköy, my favorite walks included the route from Galata Tower across Galata Bridge (and through Karaköy, another cool neighborhood) to get to Eminönü; the park and glitzy neighborhoods of Nişantaşı; and the beautiful neighborhood of Bebek. Bebek was one of the few places I went to in the city where I could walk by the Bosphorus (along a beautiful boardwalk) without feeling like I was in the way of cars on a major thoroughfare or trespassing in cafes hogging up all the waterfront.

Taken in Karaköy near Galata Tower.

A view from Galata Bridge.

The beautiful view by Bebek.

More Bebek! I honestly was very lucky the day was so beautiful.

Walking around, it's impossible not to notice all the cats. I was confused at first about how such masses of stray cats could be so well-fed and groomed before my hosts informed me that the municipality vaccinates them and the locals in Istanbul all do their parts to take care of the cats, leaving cat food, opened cans of tuna, and little cardboard shelters on the side of the road for any passing cat to use. If you've ever seen the documentary Kedi... well, it's exactly like that.

Without further ado, a slideshow of all my best kedi shots (there are plenty more than this on my phone; pruning through them is my gift to you).




If I had to sum up the trip, the glorious, long, lovely, hectic, amazing trip in one word, it would be this: lucky. I was lucky to have had the opportunity and resources to go, lucky that the weather was so good for most of the trip, lucky to have stumbled across the people, restaurants, cats, streets, etc. that I did. But most of all, lucky to have had the opportunity to stay with my fantastic hosts, to get a good sense of Istanbul as a city and not as a tourist destination. I really can't thank them enough for their hospitality.

My last day in Istanbul was Easter Monday, and after shopping for traditional Greek Easter bread, bittersweet and aromatic from the mastic and mahleb herbs, we died eggs in vinegar and had a last dinner of meze.

An Easter shot. The eggs and tsoureki are in the background.

On the plane ride back, I took out the Orhan Pamuk book again. I had been too busy (um... exploring) to give it much thought over break, but the seat in front of me had no monitor, and my backpack with laptop was stowed away in the overhead bin, so I had no choice but to try to start the book again. In the first two pages, I read: "... the rumble of a passing car, the clatter of an old bus, the rattle of the copper kettles that the salep maker shared with the pastry cook, the whistle of the parking attendant at the dolmuş stop..." Suddenly, it felt somewhat familiar.

I smiled, and kept reading.

Istanbul Part 2: FOOD FOOD FOOD

FOOD FOOD FOOD! The food, if you can't tell already, made a big impression on me.

This post is part of a three-post series about spring break in Istanbul! Links to Part 1 (attractions) and Part 3 (love letter/CATS).

Turkish food is fantastic. Tons of seafood for the seafood lover (me), tons of meat for the meat lover (also me), tons of fresh veggies for the veggie lover (me me me), and all of it fresh and well-prepared (and super cheap!). My hosts said that Turkish food emphasizes the actual flavor of the food, which is why you'll never have a spice like cumin or curry powder overpowering the ingredients. Anyway, enough talk, here are some great pictures of food.

Turkish Breakfast

Oh my goodness, the miracle that is Turkish breakfast. I'm pretty sure when God made Turkish breakfast he asked himself what all of my favorite foods in the world would be in order to put them together in one fabulous meal. Fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, various types of hard cheeses, cured meats, olives, sour cherries, honey, hard-boiled eggs, WALNUTS, and, a Turkish phenomenon that I have come to adore, SIMIT. Simit is a kind of crusty, sesame-seed encrusted bread that is absolutely divine toasted (or not toasted, really. It's just divine). I was lucky enough to have experienced three of these marvelous breakfasts at the country house.

From farthest to closest we have: cucumbers, cured meat/beef tongue, bowls of [walnuts, honey, sour cherries, olives], cheeses, tomatoes, lettuce, simit on the left and bread on the right.

Meze

These are small plates eaten with bread before the main meal. Again, I was fortunate to have experienced an incredible spread of meze at the country house. Honestly, the stuff is good enough to replace the main meal in my opinion. My favorites included fish egg paste, lentil patties, and a kind of marinated sea kelp sort of thing.

From top to bottom we have: lentil patties, caramelized onions covered in chickpea paste, cured meat (so good), stuffed artichokes, the sea kelp-esque dish, and fish egg paste. Not pictured are the stuffed peppers, which is a shame because they were very good.

 A beautiful spread of meze in a shop near Nişantaşı.

Black Sea Food

The Black Sea region is apparently known for its seafood, and I had plenty of it here. I highly recommend the restaurant Hayvore. Super authentic food, great location (off Istiklal Street) and great service. I also had some Black Sea food near the actual Black Sea after taking a cruise on the Bosphorus.

Main dishes at Hayvore: fish soup, fried anchovies, and corn bread.

Dessert at Hayvore: Kabak Tatlisi, or pumpkins soaked in syrup and topped with walnuts. Have I not mentioned that I think Turkish food was made for my consumption??

Lunch at Anadolukavağı: fried mussels, pickles, salad.

Adana Kebab

Not wanting to appear basic and go with the ubiquitous Döner kebab, I decided to try Adana Kebab, which is a different style of grilled meat. Slightly spicy and served with pickled onions, roasted tomatoes/chilis, and pita, I started eating this way too quickly before I realized I needed to snap a picture. Highly recommend Adana Ocakbaşı! They grill the meat right in front of you.

Pide

Now, I've seen pide places scattered all around Istanbul, but honestly, I've been spoiled by the fact that I hand-made pide at the country house and had it fresh out of the wood-fire oven. Good Lord, it was delicious.

 It's like a beef stew bread bowl and a pizza had a baby and dehydrated it (no soup). Yummm

Börek 

Really nice to have for breakfast with Çay, or Turkish black tea, this is a flaky pastry made with either meat, cheese, or potatoes and found in cafes all over the city in the morning.

I had the cheese kind, because I love cheese. Lots of other people were getting meat, though.

Street Food

You'll see red-and-white striped carts everywhere in Istanbul selling all sorts of street food (including simit and roasted corn). Here is some of the food I got off the street:

Roasted chestnuts by the water in Anadolukavağı

Balik Ekmek, fish bread, is a fish sandwich with roasted mackerel inside. You can find vendors floating on the Bosphorus grilling and selling these right in front of you beneath Galata Bridge.

Baklava at the Grand Bazaar.

Kumpir

Loaded baked potatoes where the potato base is whipped with cheese and butter. I may have over-topped mine (it was a little salty) but once I hit the base potato layer I was happy.

Aşure

I probably should have gone to a less touristy place to have this dish (read: NOT Taksim Square) but I wanted to try it, so there you go. It was very, very good (exactly the type of dessert I like: lots of toppings, and a grain-y, bean-y, pudding-y base). If it were a little less sweet it would be perfect. I think I will try to make this one at home.

This is apparently an ancient dessert (aka Noah's pudding) because it was first made after Noah got off the ark from all the grains and beans from the journey.

Lahmacun

This is known as "Turkish pizza," but in reality it's a phenomenon of its own. An ultra-thin, crunchy crust topped with meat, spices, and parsley (optionally chili flakes as well), this delectably light treat is best enjoyed with a cup of ayran, or salty yoghurt drink. It cuts through the meat and spice deliciously.

Kunefeh

You can often find this treat in places that serve lahmacun, and to be honest it kind of stole the show for me. Kunefeh is essentially melted cheese covered in a thin, noodle-like pastry soaked in sugar syrup and sprinkled with pistachios. I can't even express how insanely delicious this was. By FAR my favorite dessert.

Technically a Lebanese place but still good: HUMMUS AND FALAFEL 

I went to this incredible falafel place by Istiklal street called Falafel Koy and found the most delicious hummus/falafel/tabbouleh platter for only 20 lira. It was absolutely delicious and a real steal. HIGHLY recommend.

And that's a wrap for food! Make sure to check out Part 1 (attractions to see and not to see) and Part 3 (love letter/CATS) as well!