(originally written March 14)
I think Budapest is even more lovely by night than by day. I have made it a daily ritual to stay on the Pest side sightseeing until after it becomes dark. Then I walk along the river front toward the Chain Bridge, admiring all the lit-up buildings and castles and monuments. Once I get to the Chain Bridge, it, too, is lighted and makes for wonderful views. I walk across the bridge and then take the funicular up to the top of Castle Hill. I walk past the White House, through a bit of the shopping area, past the St. Mattyas Church and the Fishermen’s Bastion and to my hotel room. It’s a nice way to top off a day.
Last night there were no sentries at all around the White House, so maybe they are only there if the President is physically in the house. I was beginning to wonder if it REALLY was their White House. A few of the windows on the ground floor were open, with old-fashioned window shades blocking the view. As I walked past a breeze blew against one of the shades and revealed a wall of working electronics with several video feeds, and a couple guys in suits watching them. I just kept on walking, figured someone HAD to be watching me.
I took a tour of the magnificent Parliament Building and have two tidbits for you:
1) One of the kings was adamant about getting elevators installed as soon as they became available. He felt that spies were everywhere, and so he used the elevators as a secure area. He would invite the person(s) he wanted to talk with into the elevator, then he would stop the elevator between floors and the secret discussions would happen.
2) Smoking was not allowed inside the main chambers, so the representatives/lords would all be out in the hall smoking their Havana cigars. When it came time for a speech or a vote, they would place their stogie in one of the numbered holder slots and remember the number. They would then go in and vote, or listen to the speech. If the speech was boring, the smoker would quickly return to the outer hall and continue smoking his cigar. If the speech was unusually interesting, he would stay and listen, and upon returning to the outer hall would find only a small heap of ashes where his beloved Havana cigar had been. It was then said that the speech was “as good as a Havana!”
