Andy Carvin's Waste of Bandwidth

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May 14, 2005

Introduction to Budapest

Budapest's Eastern Train Station

After a comfortable, but sleepless night flying from Boston via Paris, I arrived in Budapest just after noon on Wednesday. I carried on my bags, and immigration was quick, so within a few minutes I was in a taxi heading towards the center of town.

Just before 1pm, I arrived at the Star Hotel, in Budapest's seventh district, a couple miles east of the Danube. I jumped in the shower to freshen up, then went for a walk around the neighborhood prior to my meeting with Gáspár Mátyás at 2:30pm. It was a pleasant, leafy neighborhood chock full of late 19th century buildings. At the end of the street I found an old synagogue; the sign out front seemed to suggest it was a working Orthodox synagogue.

I took some pictures in the neighborhood but then turned back to the hotel when my camera battery suddenly died. I thought it was on a full charge; apparently not. Fortunately I bought a second battery just in case, and it was waiting for me, plugged into my charger at the hotel. By this point, though, there wasn't time to return outside, so I waited for Mátyás in the lobby.

Gáspár Mátyás

Mátyás showed up a few minutes later; he greeted me with a warm handshake, like an old friend; I was struck how he looked like Albert Einstein when he was younger, crossed with my cousin Adam. We walked a few blocks down Istvan Utca, then turned north until we reached his courtyard apartment. Upstairs, I met his wife and son; Mátyás and I then settled in for several hours of chatting about telecentres, telecottages and the digital divide.

Later in the afternoon, Mátyás asked if I had any energy to go for a walk. I said I'd be up for it, so we left my laptop back at the apartment, digital camera and Lonely Planet guide in tow. We walked south past the beautiful eastern railway station, then hung a right down Rakoczi Utca, one of the city's main thoroughfares and prettiest boulevards. Mátyás described various buildings as I snapped lots of pictures.

Budapest's recently restored Great Synagogue

Eventually, we turned north towards the old Jewish ghetto. "Wait until you see this," Mátyás said, smirking. Around the corner, I saw what could only be described as the most magnificent synagogue in the world. Reminiscent of the grand mosques of Moorish Spain, the sprawling building featured fine horizontal brick work and two onion dome minarets, each green and trimmed with gold leaf. I stood there, utterly stunned. I'd read about the synagogue in my guidebook - it was the biggest synagogue in the world outside of New York City, and had been renovated with funds raised by actor Tony Curtis, whose parents were Hungarian Jews. The synagogue also hosts a Jewish history museum, which I intended to visit on Sunday. Maybe I'd even be able to go to Shabbat services on Saturday; I hadn't attended a European synagogue service since I lived in Scotland, and that was hardly the Old Europe type of synagogue I'd envisioned in my dreams.

We left the Jewish quarter and worked our way to Vorosmarty Ter, a tree-lined square famous for the Gerbeaud Café and its delicious (but pricy) cakes and sweets. Turning south, we reached Vaci Utca, a splendid pedestrian street with fine shops and gorgeous architecture. Mátyás took me into Pariszi Udvar, the Parsian Court -- a late 19th century shopping arcade with splendid, Tiffany-like glass ceilings. Beyond the court, to the right I could see the Danube River, and the hilly crags of Buda on the far side. Mátyás led me to the corniche, where we had a fantastic view of the royal palace and Buda castle. It reminded me of Stockholm in an odd way, with a Prague-like sensibility. It made me somewhat sad that I had work to do for the next few days - how easy it would be to waste away a week playing tourist here.

Veering back towards Vaci Utca, we strolled along the shops, enjoying the warm sun. Ahead of us, we spotted half a dozen security guards in suits, sporting sunglasses and ear pieces. Ahead of them, a tall, brown-haired VIP walked from shop to shop, pausing momentarily to look into each window. The security team looked around with intense vigilance.

"Who is it?" I asked Mátyás. "A government minister?"

"Probably," he replied, "but I cannot tell whom."

Suddenly, the VIP turned around and spoke to one of the security men - in American English. I got a good look at his face: long and thin, somewhat bushy eyebrows. I knew I recognized him; I even wanted to call out the name Robert. But the way the security detail was looking around, I didn't want to push my luck, let alone take a picture of our mystery man.

"When we get back to your place I'll hit the government websites and figure out who he is," I said.

A few blocks later, we reached the Pilvax Café. Mátyás explained how the café served as the home base of Hungary's first push for independence in the 1840s.

"I think it was our FBI director," I said, still dwelling on our mysterious VIP.

"What?" Mátyás asked.

"That guy we saw." "I think he was our FBI director. We'll have to check online."

Budapest's royal palace

Around 7pm, we veered back to the Danube until we reached the Admiral Restaurant. Located right on the river bank, we sat outside and soaked in the setting sun. With a tall pilsner in hand, I ordered a thoroughly Hungarian meal - a bowl of gulyas (goulash) and a plate of catfish paprikas. Both the stew and the paprikas were fiery hot -- not the mild, sweet paprika they sell in the USA, but the kind of fire you expect in a good Santa Fe restaurant.

"I'm so glad to be visiting a country that knows how to do spicy," I said as we finished dinner.

"You will have no shortage of it here," Mátyás replied.

Leaving the restaurant, we walked to the local metro station to catch a train back to Mátyás' house. Soon, though, we realized we were at the wrong station - Mátyás rarely ever takes the metro, apparently. So we left the station and caught a bus, which got us back to the eastern railway station in a few minutes.

Back at his house, I checked email for a few minutes and posted a quick note on my blog. I then went to FBI.gov to see if I recognized anyone. A portrait of FBI director Robert Mueller flickered on the screen.

"Recognize anyone?" I asked Mátyás.

"That's him!" he replied.

I then checked a few news websites to see if there was any mention of FBI director Mueller traveling in Budapest. No dice. Looks like I scooped the story. -andy

Posted by acarvin at May 14, 2005 4:26 AM

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