Posh café, steam rooms, and ruins with fairy lights - Part II
The second day started after we had a whopping 10 hours of sleep. We needed that and we felt rejuvenated and ready to take on the day. A perfunctory, but mediocre breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant started the day, followed by my journey to Békásmegyer to pick up my mother and return to central with her.
As I got on the tram, I witnessed the best of what Budapest can offer to a tourist. I am being sarcastic here, of course. Meet the ‘Ticket Inspector’. Before I share this experience, let me you that I do not condone using public services without payment - although in a truly socialist society based on fair taxation and thus sharing costs of these services the tram would be free to use in my opinion -, but I feel that targeting innocent tourists who try to navigate the transport system in Budapest and might make genuine mistakes is shameful and does not reflect the welcoming attitude that is otherwise an essential part of the Hungarian tourism. There was a moderate size group of young individuals travelling together and it seemed that not all of them had the right tickets or validated them before getting on the tram. The ‘Ticket Inspector’ could politely point out the mistake and kindly educate the people who had made such a mistake on how to use the system correctly to avoid further issues during their stay or - as it happened in front of my eyes - could behave intimidatingly, demand passports and get the individuals off the tram for further monetary punishments. Do not get me wrong, I am sure that the transport company outsources this work and the inspectors have quotas to reach because everything is about capitalism and - in my experience - these inspectors do show poorly educated or poorly-mannered behaviour, but it would be important for these people to understand the role they play in creating an image for the city and the country as well.
The rest of the journey to Békásmegyer was uneventful and it was lovely to see my mother. I had been worrying about her condition for a while because of the conflicting information she had provided during our video calls. Such calls do not allow gauging of how an elderly person is doing. Additionally, her memory is not the greatest and I could never be sure if I could tell reality or confabulation apart. However, when I turned up at her place, I found a physically and mentally agile person. She lost weight, but it looked great on her! I think she was stalling, but finally, we set out and she wanted to use public transport instead of a cab, so we walked to the station and, to my surprise, she did not need to stop once. She even walked up and down the stairs and only got a bit huffy at the very end. I was so proud of her. It also confirmed my suspicion that her reluctance to leave the house was due to anxiety and not physical limitations.
We met James at the New York Café and gosh, that cute face warms my heart every time I see it. He was beaming and gave the biggest hug to my mother. We were led to our table in this magnificent building with a 120-year history. The building itself was commissioned by the Hungarian Department of the New York Insurance Company. The luxurious ground floor café was the favourite meeting place of artists, writers and poets of the time. We had our 3-course lunch in this illustrious environment that for me included the meat-heavy goulash soup, the wafer-thin wiener schnitzel, and the Somlói galuska, a spongecake-based chocolaty dessert. Before lunch, my mother offered to pay for everything during our day together, but when the bill came, she backtracked. After considering the location, we decided that £170 for three people was not an exceptional price for a three-course meal each, and the memory we created was worth the money. James and I were happy to settle the bill. Mum was full of smiles and had sparkles in her eyes as we were saying our goodbyes and she got on the tram to get back her pad. This was such a lovely afternoon!
