Tag: Budapest | Martin O Regan

In The Beginning

Posted on February 23, 2025 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

I am God!

I have always been

A designer in fact

Of my own destiny

Open to chance

A brittle reality

Shattered distorted

By time

And thought

I am God!

The Alpha Omega

The rendering

And sundering

The dream in the haze

The far flung shadows

And the stark

Clear reality

Defined by my ways

I am God!

A devil in failure

A harm to the innocent

Around me

Inside me

My thoughts

Needling me

Creating reality

Self-propagating

By mine own hand designed

I am God!

Therefore powerful

But left alone in the sandpit

Of my doubt

Grown unstable

I’m reinvented

Become human

Lost my way

In the wilderness

Not emergent empowered

Rather weak uncertain

Flesh and bone

I am fearful

By mine own hand

Now I’m mortal

Old haunts, old habits

Posted on August 1, 2024 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Trying to remove myself from the dependency of crutchdom, I find myself revisiting places that became the staple of another time. But leaning philosophical, every day presents another time. Still, retaining some sense of civility, I am amused by the fact that at the very moment of reminisce, I stumbled across old heads from old times. They themselves were never my bar fellows, but they haunted the edges of that life. Now, I feel like I’m back on the tracks after a total derailment, and yet I wonder, like I do every morning on awakening, whether I’m just deluding myself. And yet I’m also inclined to believe that that is what it is like to chase a dream. Always infused by a vibrancy I one time tried to replicate through booze,…but far be it for me to demonise, afterall it is only those who can’t handle it that speak of a glorious life without it. Plenty’s the guy who never missed a day in his life, never feigned illness to skip a moment’s work…(I secretly pity them but that is just like my opinion man!)… But that is not my point. All I wanted to say is that it is nice to find myself again living with intention, not simply prey to mundanity, and even if I had the luxury to choose another way, and nearly always I have had, I believe that one some time in one’s life needs to experience the weakest aspect of their being in order to understand their strength. It’s clichéd I’m sure, but tell that to those who’ve died trying. To all and sundry, I bid you a good morrow.

Kossuth 1 Pékség és Kávézó

Posted on December 19, 2022 by martinoregan • 1 Comment

Is this really a place without match? Without compare? A place like no other? Unique? Individual? Groundbreaking? Earthshaking? You’ve probably guessed at my answer by now, or have given up entirely and scrolled on. But for those still curious enough, and if I can structure my answer according to the preceding grammar…

Just get on with it, would ya ffs!

Alright. My goodness.

Well, this place doesn’t stand out on the global scale of things but in this quiet suburb of Budapest, it is actually somewhat unique. It isn’t like the chain coffee shop further down in the valley, nor does it have that shopping centre vibe of that place further along the trail. It isn’t like the confectionery shops dotted about the place either.

So what is it then? It’s bigger than the smaller places and away from the shopping background of the bigger places. And that’s its selling point, in my opinion. A place to sit and relax and enjoy a coffee, tea, pastry, cake, sandwich, salad and a bit more. There are even products to buy like olive oil and other such oddities one would expect from a speciality shop. A place where there is more than enough space, seating, for more than a few and yet intimate enough not to get that study room air of the American chains. Perhaps you’ll find the odd laptop user here but my guess is this place attracts locals looking for a break, nénis and bácsis looking for a coffee and cake, workers popping in for a warm brew, but not so much the bench warmers bashing out the final draft of a thesis or looking for inspiration for their first book. Stuck in the cosy seats way back in the corner, a book to hand, and lounge tunes from the speakers, it’s anybody’s guess as to when I’ll be leaving. I mean afterall if I do get a bit peckish, there is plenty to hand and let’s not be quick to dismiss this, the jacks is spot on. Just one thing to note: don’t bother with this place come Sunday. It’s closed. As for the rest it’s all about the early morning start: 6 am weekdays, 6.30 am Saturdays.

Come for a coffee, stay for the choice.

Kossuth 1 Pékség és Kávézó

Margit’s Bridge

Posted on May 31, 2020 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

The erratic heartbeat of the city

As rubber padded thunk moves level

Carhorns join in melody

The rush hour music playing strong.

The hum, the purr, the growl of engines

Darkness descended, the beast’s upended

To prowl in search of life outside

The daily click clack,

The daily grind.

And on in bursts of ebb and flow

Below the Danube creeps past slow

A moon appears to offer light

But not tonight… Not tonight.

Illuminating city streets

Arising from the shadows creep

There is no need for stars tonight,

Fluorescence is the guiding light.

And deeper, darker, into the hollow

Blending with the nighttime cheer

The beast appears to disappear

Appearing once again tomorrow.

Most, But not the most

Posted on May 18, 2018 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

A habit building is the habit to check the menu before ordering anything. With a 10% service charge added, there’s no need for a borravaló, And so there won’t be.

Sometimes I’d consider adding a little extra but not this time. The service is satisfactory but the attitude is less appealing. A slow pint, it seems, is not acceptable. A light lunch is also questioned though that could be forgiveable seeing as with a Menu of the Day on offer, most people would jump at the opportunity. Me too if only it wasn’t all a little confusing, the menu itself that is. Set in a trendy newspaper style it fails to deliver. Too many pokey points.
However, it’s when I’m approached for the third time and asked if I’d like another beer, still a sizeable slug remaining, that I feel a bit put off. The place is nearly empty, except for me, and friends of the staff, or the owners themselves. Who knows.
The prices are also above acceptable especially for what you get. Over one thousand forints for a soup requires something more than nachos sprinkled on what could only be described as Nacho dip.
And then the beer at 890ft. Most, itt vagyok, Most-ban, and this is more than the most I’d like to pay for a snack. My other haunts torment me now, forlorn spectres adrift on the plateau of lost opportunities.

This Side

Posted on March 14, 2018 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

The scaffolding still stands across the way
And under it other parties now do pass
In the shadow of that tunnel hidden memories
Some borne of repetition some of joy.
Each step a step closer to one’s abode
But- now- the turning wheel dictates the road
Will it be in hindsight our adventure or
In leaving it the spelling of our certain Doom.
The passing faces the road much trodden
The life the thoughts the everything
And in so passing us we too were passing
And are still from this side of the road.

Something fishy ’bout this

Posted on March 3, 2017 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Halkakas
Quick eat to café atmosphere
The place offers promise from without, a café style interior on entering, and fish on the menu. Tucked snugly on a corner along Veres Pálné utca one could almost pass by but and just by chance I was steered there on tripping out the stationery shop door on the opposite side of the street. As I had been lurking the district for some grub and yet was sure a street food burger would just spiritually rape me, the promise of fish spelt miraculous.
So picking a seat and forcing myself to be accepted as legit to the many eyes that looked up from their array of soups and other such dishes, I grabbed myself a menu and started to pave my glory.
Good selection of different fish dishes
First off the selection of fish dishes was impressive and while I worked my way through the Hungarian double taking on the “halburger” questioning its spelling, I was intrigued to find fish and chips tucked away in among the rest on offer and not a stand out, stand alone as if to play the signature dish!
I finally settled on the misspelt ‘hal’burger hoping that in fact it wasn’t a type-o and why should it be, it was a fish joint and not a burger of beef gaff. Still to be satiated in times of fussiness can lead to disaster so I grabbed myself a Foti Pils* to sip on while bracing myself for what was to come.
A fish burger I ordered and a fish burger I got, most flavorful, most delicious. The juices that flowed didn’t sog the burger buns but did leave me wishing to mop it up off the plate. Still being as full as I was that might have been unadvisable. The chips accompanying it were pre-salted and while this usually yields a common quib of mine this time I had no complaints. The potatoes were cut well and were proportionately tasty, something I never say!

*Fóti Sörfőzde

Prices match quality and in down town
What often gets my goat is the nonsense pricing that comes with difference and/or quality and whereas 2000huf may not be cheap in some people’s books, for what I ate and where I ate it, downtown, I would say it was on the balance a great deal. That I didn’t even need to eat again to any degree for the rest of the day (I ate here at around noon) is testimony to the depth of this good feed. Other fast food places may claim half the price but most have none of the quality, you can be damned sure.
The Others
As I was there I noticed a regular flow of what I’d describe as the young business folk lunching from small offices around so it never feels like brokersville, but from a business point of view very sustainable.
Friendly helpful patient staff
It’s counter service so tracking a menu was a flamboyant affair, me being flustered by the street and a clock that was running, but sitting and acquiring said menu, skipping past the temptation of ye olde fish N’s chips, jumping to the counter to order, doubling back twice, once for my wallet, another time for a peek at the beer menu, I never felt I, nor the girl serving were under any pressure. Her calm was infectious, perhaps. Could have used that when I was working in a bar. The guy who served up the plate, the chef or the cook, engaged professionally, being a busy man he still nodded acknowledgement, and listened without foothopping to my compliments as I was leaving.
Amen

If I don’t look out

Posted on November 30, 2016 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

If I don’t look out now, out this window
And into the city
I’ll miss my chance and with it the night.
Orange and yellow lights sheen in across my page
They offer solace in the shadows run repetitive
And then they fail
As deep beneath all vision
The light offers no warmth
And in the vacant stuttering of the bus in wait with open doors
The engine ticking over
Taking time to let us go.
Instead it holds us to ransom
Along some distant shores…
For this is no longer Budapest
But is anywhere away from home.

Tiredness tempting
A blush presented.
Cheap Wine on tired mind
Lets fatigue run over gently
Into greater weariness
Which with time
Involves us in the whole charade
As sleep and dreams envelope

Steampunk

Posted on September 23, 2016 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Just recently I read an article about a little town in New Zealand which has become a Mecca for all Steampunk fans but it happened past my memory even after I’d flirted with sending the link to a Kiwi friend of mine (In circles he’s known rather as the Doc, or Doc Ock, but don’t ever call him Candy: Unless of course you’re a 6’8″ rugby player who looks like he eats nails for breakfast. Then you can say whatever you want).

Well, when you don’t believe in coincidences all you’re left with is destiny and here I am in Krak’NTown on József körút in downtown Budapest, itself a saloon dedicated to the whole Steampunk style. From the waiters to the walls it’s captured the general vibe and based upon some of the other guests it would seem like this place has the tourist draw based upon this very Steampunk premise. Little do we know till we explore.

PS: Beyond a modest selection of craft beers they also serve food and what I noticed as significant was that a vast majority of the food had an Isles incline with Cheddar cheese soup, Toad in a Hole for breakfast, Yorkshire pudding, black pudding, as well as the ever adventurous, Haggis! There is also an Irish red beer and stout, the latter I’d hoped for but the pipes were being cleaned. In the end I settled for an IPA and dealt with the Cheddar soup in company. A light lunch, a great experience.

The pub

Posted on February 27, 2015 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

It might not be somewhere over the rainbow
But it is somewhere out there…
Hidden from view but not ear,
A band of friends, perhaps conspirators?
They laugh beyond the cheery tune on the radio.
In here…
In here in this other room, the desolate one, where the desperate sit perched at the bar or in the darker corners,
typing on phones, reading newspapers, or staring into the half distance, finding the floor sometimes a good repose…
In here heads turn expectantly but nothing ever happens, only the songs on the radio are any indication of a better world out there –
Wherein resides “Daddy Cool”.
Even as the door opens a mumble is all that’s heard…
The aging barmaid streaming out,
Perhaps this rat has jumped the ship
And yet the open door promises change

And then…
“Itt a Babus” and the chatter begins.
The barfly awakens, the barmaid questions, another familiar enters…
And then the door closes.
Who is the desperate one now?
Alone in the phone-screen glow.

Tag Archives: Budapest