Why this street in particular caught my attention has nothing to do with what’s nearby, not even that a famous writer took up residence here (if there was one I’d like to know), but that to an English speaker’s eye the actual street name could, in certain circles, and for reasons of mere hilarity, take on a whole other significance.
You see in English both the words ‘pity’ and ‘pang’ exist and to put it briefly they, in concert, would seem to suggest a physical discomfort caused by a rush of sorrow for somebody. What, if anything could this mean? Come with me!
In fact, placing these two words together in English can make a lot of sense and where a person is particularly sensitive this could even be considered a physical, emotional, or on a greater scale, a psychological condition. A pitypang could cause a physical manifestation with a display of fresh tears, not unlike women (me never! just dust in my eye) weeping to every romantic comedy ever made. The emotional reaching deeper could put one’s spirit off tilt for a period of time, one to an immeasurable number of days, not unlike…! However, the final disposition, itself entering the realm of madness could make certain people a lot of money even if the final prognosis is no more enlightening than it was some thousands of dollars, pounds, euros (remember them?) before.
We can of course have pangs of hunger, pangs of guilt and maybe having pangs of hunger on a medium income can cause pangs of guilt when we realise that we are, regardless of our immediate state, a lot better off than 90% of the world.
Anyway on a bus one evening coming home from work, looking up from my book, the sun nearly in my eyes, I managed to glimpse this sign and from that moment this moment ensued. “And that has made all the difference.”
P.S. Pitypang is the Hungarian word for Dandelion…by the way
Where there is Pest there is Buda and vice versa and well let me explain. Recently I posted an article and a bit on the Best Burger place near Nyugati and on my Facebook page even chose to tempt people into suggesting alternatives. I knew only this place and of course it was dear to my heart, not least because it opened up next to a bar I used to frequent.
Well since moving to Buda I have had my work cut out for me cos like many other things Pest v Buda related burger places too were not jumping out to greet me. I say this but you must take into account that having lived in the 6th district where every corner offers promise, from pubs to shops to bakeries to gyros places, I was feeling all at sea to begin with out in the 2nd. A nice area for a family but as a young father still struggling with the idea of that other life and a realisation that fatherhood is only a word not a sentence(!) I was in need of local entertainment of occasion, even if it was only to catch a Premiership game the odd weekend.
My exploration I must admit has been wavering, not on all cylinders as it once was. Maybe it can be accounted for by the lack of sleep or maybe it’s just because I don’t get the same thrills out of little pokey places as much as I used to. There was a period in my life when the dirtier the better was my basic selection criteria. I know that that flies in the face of quality at times but beer from a bottle tastes the same everywhere, even if the draught beer can have its inconveniences. Perhaps in this lies a clue because in recent times I’ve made the daring transition from beer to wine, half out of support for my girlfriend as she went about her paleolithic diet (my reasoning was that where others had to give up bread and potatoes and all things carbohydrate-y I would improvise in the alcohol department) and half out of a need to change some of my habits. I had become somewhat disconcerted by the continuous feeling of being bloated which is the drawback of any normal dietary intake coupled with beer, and given Hungarian portions this is multiplied.
But…what about a decent burger? I’m sure that in the wings there are people crying out (can you hear them?) that their restaurant has just that but I’m not looking for a fancy place to take the mother-in-law, to sit and peruse a menu, to order a bottle of wine! God no! That’s only Sundays and then only rarely! I’m looking for the basic fare but tasty. I’m talking speed but not overdone. I’m talking price and not losing quality. Could there be such a place?
A nice nook of a cafe, it has six tables with enough seating for a stretch to 16 maybe 18, with room for 2 more at the bar. In the fine weather it pushes out onto the street and this is possibly its greatest feature. You see the outdoor seating is arranged in the little garden-esque surrounds allowing one the hum of the street but the pleasantness of the shrubbery abounding. About halfway between Moszkva tér and Batthyány tér metro it is in a good location to walk to from either hub and with the castle district perched above it, stairways nearby leading that way, it could be the perfect reprieve, especially when slightly lost but still within striking dsitance of everything.
It’s pokey, especially in the winter, and there’s a tv in constant motion, and a radio playing but these are not the default methinks. The day or mood may lend to silence and blank tv screens.
It’s not to be recommended as a place to serve you off the beaten track, there are plenty more, but it is slightly. Nor is it for the hungry traveller or particularly for the peckish free hour wanderer but it is a place for pause when the opportunity presents itself and if you are someone who finds it difficult to like a place it’s probably not for you, but for everybody else, don’t despair if once you are presented with the choice. A quick coffee and a sample of the flavour is not such a bad thing.
There are places where you can go to use the internet for free. In fact, most of the American chain fast food and coffee shops provide it but with a twist, a half hour limit with a code on your receipt. In some places the sockets don’t function, deliberately or otherwise (maybe there’s a code for them too). Those places, however, which cater to both needs, i.e. really free internet (unlimited) and a charge-up for you battery, are worth mentioning.
Okay so the great offender concerning the sockets is our all too popular Ronald the Clown gaff but to lump others such as the Coffee Chains in here was probably unfair. However, I have another purpose. These big places are already thriving so why not bring some attention to the little man.
Fasor Espresszó, where I am now typing this is one of those little diamonds in the rough. It’s situated Buda side and has all the studenty appeal, old vinyls decorate the ceiling and cassettes serve as curtains, strung together as they are in a cascade of memory! Bottle tops comprise the chain for flushing in the toilet. So if this is quirky enough, and, hey, the drink is cheap, then come on along.
Another spot Pest side is the Izabella Kávézó on Izabella utca. On the corner of Szondi utca, and in the heart of the 6th district it’s a good spot not only for a bit of surfing but also for the football and other sports events.
Now the Cafe Cream*, or Corner Cafe, on the corner of Hattyú and Batthyány utca in the 1st district is only worth a mention here in terms of location. It has no WIFI but it does have available sockets if that’s all you require.
Ostrom*, also in the 1st district, is one of those places that provides WIFI from opening, late afternoon, till, well, whenever. It also boasts two screens for the football.
As I’m at it I’ll put a word in for an ex-pat place deeper into the heart of the 6th district, on Mozsár utca. It’s the Caledonia ( Kaledonia) by name and is run by a Scottish man and Hungarian woman. A perfect partnership in business? Seemingly so.
While there are plenty more and I will keep you updated take these as a sampler to the greater good of the smaller, but cosier spots to kick back and while away a few hours in the company of the World Wide Web.
To those of you who have come to my webpage as students I do realise that some of the material here is difficult but as to the themes written about I would be more than willing to help you understand and discuss them with you further. In truth this site is a good place for my creative writing as well as advertising my teaching. In time I hope to develop a student oriented forum but till then use the comment boxes at the end of any of the posts to make any suggestions, or go to my email address: martinoregan75@gmail.com. You can also find me on Facebook, The Hairy Teacher, so Like me and let’s begin to develop together.
I’m a pedestrian who cycles a bike and occasionally gets into a car, on the passenger side (the cause of confusion more than once).
As a pedestrian I will not stand at a red light and wait while the street remains empty of cars and other motorised transport, though I must say that I don’t usually step out in front of cyclists either. I will wait for the green man if there is a risk to my well-being but I’m not about to be that overly cautious type who denies themselves the ability to discern between what is or is not potentially dangerous.
When it comes to being a cyclist I appreciate it when a pedestrian realises the red cycle lane and tries their best to stay on their side but where a cycle lane passes through a junction such as at Budagyöngye, the cycle lane mingling with the bus stop area and the entrance to shopping centre, I’m also tolerant of the absent-mindedness of pedestrians or for that matter their sheer dogged determination to catch that bus. As I move through this part slowly I never have to practise wild, evasive manoeuvres as I have sometimes seen done by other cyclists. However, the fact that some pedestrians never get out of the way is rather an inconvenience and, well, rude.
Never having being a motorist; I flirted with the option at one time, but this was mainly confined to back roads around the city of Cork, deserted as they were, and as I have never had the inconvenience of ‘stepping out’ pedestrians and ‘dodging and weaving’ cyclists, I cannot say but as to my experiences watching others and being in the car with some of the greatest offenders when it comes to highway fascism.
In Budapest motorists rule which has led to movements like Critical Mass being set up with the intention to try to extend the awareness of a cyclist’s right to the road, at least a small part of it. Successfully executed in their mobilisation they have managed to turn the streets of Budapest, once a death trap into something akin to a promise of safety. There are still places where the cyclists have to decide between life and haste. The Chain Bridge (Lánchíd) comes to mind.
The measure of their achievements is most noted in the emergence of a greater number of cycle paths around the city which is all very well and good till the conflict begins to shift towards the two groups who should be united, the pedestrians and the cyclists. You see not only do motorists treat all and sundry with contempt but so too does the hierarchy appear between cyclists and pedestrians. Too often I have heard the warning ting-a-ling on the pavement where no cycle path is drawn and while I consider it polite to move aside, an insistent ringer is most deserving of all available expletives, and where both those on foot and on bike have to contend for a tiny patch, e.g. along certain parts of the bank walk between Margaret’s Bridge (Margit Híd) and the Chain Bridge, it becomes abundantly clear which group considers itself the superior.
This, I have seen boil over into assaults, physical or verbal, and I have been witness more than once to a cyclist being seized, handlebars first, and getting an almighty dressing down from a disgruntled pedestrian. The worst case was when a hulk of a man held a girl up who had been merrily ringing her way along a pavement near the Varosmajor, and not on the cycle path side. She had, at time of accostation, been attempting to squeeze her bike between the wall of a building and a parked car (note the car was on the pavement and had graciously allowed enough space for a slightly built man to pass through at a struggle) and had thought to remove the man mountain from her path, he half wedged, half wriggling already between said obstacles. With her ring-a-ding-dinging his anger was forthcoming!
Do I propose a solution? Not really, other than a modicum of respect all round. As for the big man he could probably do with a chill pill; the girl on the other hand I’d prescribe a reality check. I, for now, have had my say. I do bid you all adieu. Safe travelling!
