Pink October

From the oncologist's room, we walked towards the pharmacy to pick up my prescription. Unbeknownst to me, Pink October was in session. The Breast Cancer Association was conducting awareness events to educate the public. I spoke to a Ms Pearl Lee who invited me to their Thursday handicraft sessions. She directed me to a Ms Ivy to fill up an application form. for a prosthesis which is sponsored by some government body whose acronym escapes me.

This had been a fruitful morning.

Of Tamoxifen and Osteoporosis

The good doctor at the hospital had a cheery face. He greeted me amiably when I entered his room.

"Any problem, auntie?" He asked politely.

I told him about my tailbone aches and it's probable link to tamoxifen.

"Of all the hormone medication prescribed for breast cancer, tamoxifen had the least effect on bones. There are two known side effects for tamoxifen. The first is hemorrhage. The second is blood clots. Both side effects will cause swelling and excruciating pain." Dr H (not his real name) explained.

"Tell me about your tailbone ache. Is the pain excruciating?" He continued.

"No."

"Do you need painkillers?"

"Umm... no." I grinned.

"In cases where the cancer cells attack the bone, the patient would typically be in excruciating pain. Since you were able to identify a probable cause for the pain, and since it isn't painful enough to warrant painkillers, I believe you could be right."

After the routine examination, he begged my pardon before jabbing his fingers at parts around my tailbone.

No pain!

That's a celebration!

Of Tailbones and Tamoxifen

"She is complaining about her aching bones," said Winnie (not her real name) who was giving me a general update on her colleague who was previously diagnosed with breast cancer.

"Aching bones?"

"Yes. She told me that the oncologist had to change her hormone medication a few times because of the aching bones."

"Side effects of tamoxifen?"

"Possibly. Hormones. Osteoporosis?"

I had reasons to be worried. My tailbone had suffered some mild discomfort lately so I googled for detail. This is what I learned.

Tailbone pain — pain that occurs in or around the bony structure at the bottom of the spine (coccyx) — can be caused by trauma to the coccyx during a fall, prolonged sitting on a hard or narrow surface or degenerative joint changes.

Tailbone pain can feel dull and achy but typically becomes sharp during certain activities, such as sitting, rising from a seated to a standing position or prolonged standing.

In recent months, I had been sitting on the floor handcrafting on a low table, lowering myself heavily on my derriere, thinking of course, that the pounds of flesh there would buffer against any impact. I had not known that I was subjecting my tailbone to any immediate peril. To remedy the discomfort, Serena (not her real name) gave me two doughnut shaped floor cushions. It helped to some extent but I was beginning to experience a dull ache when rising from the floor.

That there could be some link between tamoxifen and tailbone aches did not cross my mind at any point so the proposition laid out above was worth the proverbial two cents..

She-With-The-Headscarf

I was taken by surprise.

There she sat on the left near the center aisle three rows in front of me, her husband on the left, a daughter on the right. She was wearing a brown blouse but it was the mark of her despair which caught my eye. The Head Scarf. Those were on my head ... was it two years ago?

I remembered once again the agony of my predicament, the Despair that once was me. And as I stared vacantly at her, remembering all that had transpired, her husband turned around and caught me. In a flash, I remembered how uncomfortable I felt when folks stared at me. I remembered the man at the restaurant who stared.  I remembered the girl in the Courier van who nudged at the girl sitting next to her, and the curiosity in their eyes as both stared at me. It was a wretched feeling. I remembered them all, yet in the Here and Now of time, yours truly stood  convicted of same.

I felt a compulsion to talk to her, to comfort her, to assure her that not all is lost. I felt an urgency to tell her that "All Things Happened For A Reason", that Providence allowed adversities to mould our faith.

And as the singer on the stage sang songs I did not know, I stole glances at her, wondering if I should approach her and what kind words I could possibly utter to uplift her. I wondered how she would react? Would she be grieved by my forthrightness? Would my words, however well intended throw her into the Depths of Despair.... for remembering ... as I did ... I had preferred the supportive silence of Compassion to the invasive encroachment of Concern.

Wasn't that why I started this blog in the first place? So I can wallow in self-pity all by myself without contrite?

As the lady up on stage started praying in tongues, I whispered a silent request. If it be God's will that our paths cross this day then let the moment come to pass.

After the tithe were collected, I stole another look at her. My moment never came. She was surrounded by well-wishers and the awkwardness of the prospect kept me in my seat. I saw an elderly woman walked towards her, with a jocular spring in her steps, her thumbs up in a gesture of victory, it's meaning not entirely lost on me.

Her courage was commendable. I remembered how I stayed away from public scrutiny, how I hid myself, not wishing to face concerned friends and relatives, wanting only to be left alone... to brood.

And in this frame of mind I remembered the time my brother-in-law suffered from colon cancer. I visited him one weekend and asked if he was better. What else could one say for crying out loud? In a fit of desperate anguish, he yelled at me.

"Why do people keep asking if I'm better? How can I be better? Can you see that I am better?"

He was right. I understood how it felt to have the multitude of concerned faces asking if you were better and patching the punctuated silence with inappropriate balderdash.

As the deadly dull sermon came to a happy end, I sneaked another look at She-With-The-Headscarf. She sat upon her chair, eyes downcast despondently in a posture that once was mine..

Our path shall not cross this day and as I stood up to leave, I whispered across the hall. "Hang on there, Sister.  This too shall pass...."

The Haze

"Oh, it's terrible. The API is close to 300!" lamented an old school chum in our Group Chat. 

"Ya - right. 300!" I thought as I remembered the time when the API hit 501 in the mid 90s when we were posted East.

A State Emergency was declared. Schools were closed. I remembered how thick the air was when we drove on the deserted streets at 7 in the morning.. The lit neon street lights (typically unlit at this hour) gave the air a sick orange hazy appearance. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the day was coming to an end for it looked like the dimmer half of twilight.

The radio deejays advised all listeners to drink more water, cover all windows with wet blankets and to stay indoors in air-conditioned rooms.

That turned out to be fun, in a sick way. The house at our disposal at the time was a 6 room semi-detached two storey brick building with a private orchard. We were out-numbered by the lizards and earthworms. The backyard descended a gentle slope to a little metal gate at the bottom. The trees planted in this private orchard were one durian tree, one rambutan tree and at least 3 or 4 mango trees. Other trees could not be identified. I was pretty sure I did not have enough wet blankets or towels to cover all the windows in this house so all we did was to confine ourselves to our bedroom. Next to the TV was a writing desk and to the left of this desk, we pushed in our desktop PC which was unplugged from the study downstairs. There wasn't any room for a dining table so we ate wherever we sat. Have you ever dined in your bedroom? It was fun, in a sick way.

And then, there was Caligula. I was fond of historical fiction (I still am) and was wont to purchase any books or VCDs (which was the rage back then) covering this genre. Hence, it was without hesitation that I bought the VCD which had a picture of a Roman Emperor on its cover. I surmised that the name of the Emperor was Caligula. My six year-old boy and me were dining inside the bedroom when I popped the VCD into the CD-ROM drive. I was jolted into action after a few second's pause. The VCD was pornography in its graphic form. I wasn't sure how much my son saw during the few seconds of inaction but it was enough for me to quietly dispose the VCD.

Schools were closed for a couple of days so I took my son to work.

"The water is contaminated! There is an epidemic which the government is not telling us about," cried Mr Gan (not his real name) on the following morning as he delivered our beverages. Now Mr Gan had a network of informers who breakfasted every morning at his food outlet, trading gossips, current news and intelligence.

Earlier that year, he had gained a little credibility when he explained why my son was able to register in a coveted school near my office while a colleague's daughter was denied entrance. It was the government's policy to reserve ten seats in all schools for transfer cases like ours. We were not privy to this bit of information.

"Did you notice that the water is salty?" continued Mr Gan. "They have added salt to the filtered water. Why would they do that? To disinfect the water, that's what's what! There is an epidemic and they are hiding it from us!"

This changed everything. We took time-off from our work, rushed to the supermarket to hoard (Yes, hoard) bottled mineral water by the crates. The rumor went viral. By the following morning, there was an acute shortage of bottled mineral water in the entire state. On the third morning, the State Government issued a press release.

The dam had burst causing sea water to flow into the reservoir. This explained why the tap water was salty. The State was not encumbered by any epidemic.

While we ... we were encumbered by crates of bottled mineral water sheepishly hoarded without a shred of remorse.

The haze was pretty bad this morning. At the Group Chat someone was talking about the orangey hazy hues.

Did I tell you about Caligula?

Out with the old, In with the new.

Alighting from the taxi I walked towards Ginger's grave. All eight years of her is now reduced to a patch of fresh earth, her smiles gone, her barks forever silenced. "I don't want another indoor dog. The loss is too painful." I declared to the world at large after planting some pretty flowers at Ginger's grave. Rachel (Serena's daughter) watered the flowers, her eyes a little moist. Jet lag and the recovery from the flu and cough kept me fatigued for the next two weeks. Strange. I used to recover pretty quickly from the flu.

Ginger - 2007 Age: 2 months

One month later, my Significant Other (Bless his soul) picked up a little white puppy from a pet shop. She was the scrawniest puppy this side of the peninsular. Her name is Jody. Jody - 2015 Age: 4 months

Jody - 2015 Age: 2 months

Day 10 - Journey's End

Shortly before eight, we piled into the dining area. The woman from the kitchenette smiled pleasantly and said "yada-yada-yada-yada-yada" and more "yada-yada-yada-yada..." ... but I'm not about to tell you what that meant.

We filled our plates and cups and returned to the dining table. Mr Georgia and his wife were checking out immediately after breakfast. A young lad of about twenty-two sat at the receptionist desk. He was probably assigned to handle our check-outs.

The taxis arrived at about 10 am. The drive to the airport was as pleasant as it gets. It took about half an hour and cost us 6980 forints. Our flight was at 3:25 pm (Tuesday). ETA at Dubai, 11 pm on the same night.

We checked in our luggage and there being nothing else to do, sat at a cafe for tea and a slice each of carrot cake and fruit cake. The cakes were hard and unpleasantly sweet. We watched a young man check in his black Rottweiler puppy. The animal was exceptionally curious and sniffed at everything that moved, reminding me of Xena, my warrior princess. I wondered where Ginger was buried.

Two large men looking like a father and his son from Eastern Europe were stranded at the airport. Their tickets were suspended because of issues with their travel agent. We went for lunch at the crowded KFC. The chicken pieces were overtly marinaded with herbs, salt and spices and fried in a thick layer of flour. I took one bite and left the rest in the box. It looked better there.

It had been an interesting trip. We learnt that streets and public squares were strasse and splatz in Austria and utca and Ter in Budapest. Bidets were not used in this part of the world and complimentary beverages not provided by hotels. In escalators and public walkways, people kept to the right and frowned at you if you don't.

We boarded the Emirates. Oh, Mother of Joys! We were one step closer to home.

My coughing spasms had not eased. Seated directly behind me were two ladies. They were producing rapid successions of sneezing, wheezing and coughing. Nose-blowing was high in their agenda. The Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS) was the current concern so the large Chinese seated directly in front moved 2 rows to the front to the furthest right seat of the middle aisle. (Mine was the window seat on the left.) When the plane was in midair, the woman next to him started sneezing. The man in the front seat blew his nose and the girl behind started coughing. The poor man looked fretfully around the plane. He was surrounded by a symphony of cacophony orchestrated by a flu-infested entourage. We constitute more than half the plane load.

We arrived at Dubai (transit)  at 10.35pm (36 deg Celsius). The terminal was packed with hordes of travelers. At 1-55 am, we boarded the Emirates for home. One day later (thanks to the rotating globe) we reached home,

After collecting our baggage, we waved goodbye to Mr Nice-Guy. Miss Walk-Faster and her brood were busy looking elsewhere so we left them where they were.

It was good to be back.

Day 9 - Budapest (Part 6)

HOP-ON-HOP-OFF CITY TOUR

So we crossed the streets and walked towards the Ferris Wheel at Margaret Square where a modest crowd had gathered for the City Tour.

Margaret Square
St Stephen's Basilica in background

THE GREEN LINE

The Green Line was the second coach line operating the Hop-On-Hop-Off City Tour. The line started at Elizabeth Square (Pest), made a round at the small green park near Chain Bridge, zipped across the city streets towards the City Park  to stop at the Heroes Square and the Szechenyi thermal bath.  Then it zoomed past more city streets until it reached the Elizabeth Bridge which it crossed to the Buda side to drop passengers off at the Buda Castle and Citadella. At the Citadella (The Citadel) the driver took a 15 minutes ciggie break. After the break, the Green Coach crossed the Chain Bridge to end up once again at Elizabeth Square,  all in making 19 scheduled stops.

Mr Driver (not his real name) was the large pleasant driver of the Green Coach. Aged late forties, blonde and fair-skinned, he was probably not a Hungarian because he did not have that distinctive hungry look. He parked the coach by the side of Margaret Square and stood outside for his ciggie break. A woman in her thirties appeared out of no where together with a little boy who stood politely two feet behind them. Mr Driver flirted with the woman, the wantonness in interaction indicative of something a little more complex. The rain did not bother them.

The young girl who checked our tickets before we boarded the coach looked disagreeable. In my books, she had to be a Hungarian although she's probably too young to look hungry. Oh dear me! Am I not showing some prejudice towards a people I do not know? I beg your pardon, I do.

My window seat was the first seat on the right after the door. As such, I was suitably positioned to watch the interaction between Mr Driver and the woman. I saw her eyes fluttered as she smiled coyly but I wasn't able to observe the man because his back was towards me. Meanwhile, the little boy at the back fidgeted uneasily.

When they were quite done with whatever it was they were doing, Mr Driver returned to his seat on the left of the coach. There wasn't any parting kiss, I noticed. The disagreeable girl who checked our tickets disappeared. On board with us was a pleasant dark-haired young lad in his early twenties. This was the tour guide for the Green Line. In my books, he was probably not Hungarian.

Street facing Buda

Little green statue at the road intersection on the right. Eotvos Jozsef (Hungarian writer involved in revolt against Habsburgers in 1848)

Andrassy Avenue

Vak Bottyan (General)

HEROES SQUARE

Heroes Square (a national pride) is a popular tourist attraction next to City Park by the Andrassy Avenue. The Archangel Gabriel stood on the towering pillar at the center. On his right hand is the Holy Crown of St Stephen. His left hand held two barred apostolic crosses awarded to St Stephen by the Pope for his efforts in converting Hungary to Christianity.

At the base of the central pillar are the iconic seven chieftains of the Magyars who led the Hungarian people into the Carpathian basin. On both sides of the pillar are the fourteen great stone figures in Hungarian history.

Left of Central Pillar Above 7 stone figures Statue of man with scythe (Labor) and woman sowing seeds (Wealth) Man in chariot using snake as whip (War)

Right of Central Pillar Above 7 stone figures Woman in chariot with palm frond (Peace) Man with golden statue (Knowledge) and woman with palm frond (Glory)

Szechenyl Thermal Bath

Thermal Baths legacy from the Turk's conquest

Museum of Fine Arts (left of Heroes Square)

Hall of Art (right of Heroes Square)

Municipal Zoo/Botanical Garden

city park

Back to the city

Zsinagoga Synagogue

Near Buda Castle The rain pelting down..

When it rains, it pours ...
This was the rooftop scene I came across just yesterday
after the second flight of stone stairs from Attila ut

And this was the beginning of the third flight of stone steps we discovered just yesterday
We turned back at this point, not knowing what to expect at the top of the steps

raining cats and dogs

approaching Buda Castle

Buda Castle on the left

Since it was raining cats and dogs, no prizes for guessing who got off the coach to explore Buda Castle, None!  The driver halted at the designated stop though, to pick up more passengers. I looked out the window as the passengers ascended the coach and saw Mr India (from yesterday) with his wife and baby sheltering at the doorstep of some building by the road. Since they did not board the coach, we could surmise that he did not buy the City Tour tickets.

After picking up its load, the coach turned a few more bends finally appearing at a secluded parking-lot. Mr Driver parked the coach by the side of the parking lot just outside a portable lavatory. Next to the lavatory was a cafe.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are taking a fifteen minutes break here. This is The Citadella," announced the young tour guide with the pleasant face.

It was drizzling outside. Some left the bus to relieve themselves at the portable lavatory. Some ran to the cafe for hot coffee. Most sat tight where they were, as did we. The Citadella (Citadel) is where the Statue of Liberty stood on Gellert Hill.

After the fifteen minutes ciggie break, Mr Driver was back behind the wheels. We turned around to leave the slopes. The pleasant tour guide advised us to get down at Stop # 17 (Marcius 15 ter) since we were heading for the Keleti Train Station. (for the record, we covered 17 out of the 19 Green Line stops.)

Bridge near Marcius 15 ter (Stop # 17)

Since it was drizzling we alighted from the Green Coach under the above bridge. It was cold and windy. The hideous raincoat kept me warm. We walked towards a bus stand a few hundred meters from the bridge to catch the bus to Keleti. A small bakery stood by the side of this street. After buying some pretzels and cheese sticks, I asked if I could use their washroom.

"No!", said the girl manning the counter, the look on her face telling me that she was every inch a Hungarian.

We continued walking towards the bus stand which did not seem to get any nearer. Approaching from the opposite direction was a man walking his black and gray Shih Tzu. The leashed pooch gazed steadily at me. I held its gaze until they walked past me. Curious to know whether the pooch was still staring at me, I turned around. The pooch continued walking with its handler, its shaggy little head turned away from the front and staring right back at me. It must be wondering where this particular garbage bag was heading.

Finally we reached the bus stand. Bus # 8 appeared. On its digital display were the words "Keleti Pályaudvar." We took the seat directly after the collapsing door. Across from me sat an elderly woman with a middle-aged woman. Both of them stared at me for wasn't I in my garbage bag a sight to behold? In front of them was a woman with a pram. The baby inside the pram gazed at me. The Hungarians were a curious lot.

I shut my eyes and ignored them until we reached the bus stop outside the Keleti Train Station. Taking off my garbage bag for the drizzling had eased, we headed for the Tower Terrace.  Outside the lift after the vestibule, we bumped into the family of five. They were heading out for dinner. I was glad I wasn't wearing the garbage bag at this point. Imagine the dramatic effect I might have on dear Ms Walk-Faster had I been so unfortunate as to be caught in one in her presence. Back in our room, we dined on pretzels and cheese sticks washed down with hot tea from the kitchenette. We did not have the appetite for finer grub.

It had been an eventful day. We had covered more tourist attraction than we could have covered had we followed the family of five.

The continuing drizzle outside meant that exploring the night scene of Budapest is out of the question. Sleep was especially sweet at this time of the trip because we were returning home on the morrow, and haven't I mentioned before that "Going Home is the best part of any journey?"

Mr Nice-Guy returned to the Tower Terrace early with two cans of beer which he shared with his old school chum. No prize for guessing why they were back early. It was the rain which kept them from the streets. Since the pretty receptionist was at her desk, they requested her to book the taxi for our drive to the airport on the morrow.

And the minute hand worried the hour hand of the clock towards dawn.

BACK TO PART 5  | PART 4  | PART 3

PART 2  |  PART 1

Day 9 - Budapest (Part 5)

HOP-ON-HOP-OFF CITY TOUR

The Hop-On-Hop-Off City Tour (which costs 6000 forints each) was operated by two different coach lines, the Pink Line and the Green Line. A 1-hour river cruise is included in the package together with a booklet of free coupons which we did not have the time to exploit. The ticket is valid for two days and you can board both lines at any of the designated 33 stops simply by showing your ticket. This had to be the best thing since sliced bread.

THE PINK LINE

As it was drizzling, I wrapped myself with the disposable raincoat, a hideous light blue plastic sheet not unlike the sheets used to produce garbage bags. The last time I had occasion to use one was decades ago during my school days when a raincoat looked pretty decent ... for a raincoat. It wasn't flattering to be caught in this plastic sheet but under the circumstances, it was better to be a walking garbage bag than to be sicker than I already was. You must remember that I hadn't quite recovered from the sore-throat and flu and was happily coughing up a storm.

Petofi ter
The Dormition Cathedral on the right.

We waited at Stop No: 5 (Petofi Ter) for the Pink Line to appear. The rain kept up a light drizzle. A small crowd had gathered by the time the pink coach appeared.

Air Raid / Peeling Plaster? Belgrad Rakpart (apartment)

Dorrmition Cathedral Greek Orthodox Church

The tourist guide on board was a middle aged Hungarian, fair of complexion and bearing the distinctive hungry looks of the Hungarian. Her shoulder length straw colored hair was tied up neatly with a blue ribbon which stole curious peeks at me. I was sitting directly behind her. She occupied the first seat on the left near the aisle.  Her spoken English was heavily accented but one could make out what she said if one paid attention. As the coach drove past each tourist attraction, she introduced each spot before the coach halted to drop off or pick up more passengers. You get the flexibility of exploring each tourist attraction at your leisure, only to return to the designated stops to be picked up for the next scheduled stop.

The Pink Line started at the Clark Adam ter funicular service at the end of the Chain Bridge on the Buda side. From the Chain Bridge, it goes along the Danube up to the Margaret Bridge where it crosses to the Pest side, after which it goes down along the Danube until it reaches the Chain Bridge on the Pest side. (opposite the Clark Adam ter) Here, it looped around a small central park before going down again along the Danube towards the Balna Shopping Center where after a U-turn of sorts, the coach returned to the city center. Next, it crosses the Elizabeth Bridge to the Buda side, goes up the Danube to end up once again at the Clark Adam ter ...  all in, making 14 stops. (The Green Line : 19 stops)

Unfortunately, we did not get off at any of the 33 designated stops. Time was of the essence. We were leaving Budapest on the next day. The city tour ended at 5 pm and it was well past noon before we commenced the tour.  Furthermore, we were hampered by the light drizzle which grew into a full-fledged rainstorm.

The Inner City Parish Church is the oldest church in Pest. It was built at the site of the grave of St Gellert, (the bishop who was rolled down Gellert Hill in a barrel into the Danube way back when.

Inner City Parish Church

During the Turk occupation, the church became a mosque. After the Turks were ousted by the Habsburgs (Austria), the mosque was reconverted to a church.

Next to the church is a square (Marcius 15 ter) built on the ruins of contra-Aquincum. (ancient Roman city) Marcius 15 ter is one of the 33 designated stops.

Liberty Bridge (Rock Chapel on right)
Third Oldest Bridge
Distinctive *Turul bird on top of pillar
*Turul are falcon-like birds prominent in ancient Hungarian mythology

Balna Shopping Center Fovam ter

... where merchants sell their produce

Great Market Hall Fovam ter

taken from on board the Pink Coach

Open Air Farmer's Market
opposite the Great Market Hall

Hotel Astoria 3 designated stops between the Pink and Green Line so this must be a pretty popular spot

Calvin Square at intersection in city center named after French Protestant Reformer John Calvin

National Museum

The Pink Coach dropped us at Stop # 9 (Kiraly utca) which was a busy street filled with shoppers. From here, we were directed to cross a couple of streets towards the Budapest Eye. (Ferris wheel at Elizabeth Square) That was Stop # 1 of The Green Line.

As far as the Pink Line goes, we started at Point 5 and stopped at Point 9., missing all the spots in between. Hopefully, the Green Line would show us more of Budapest.

PART 6

 BACK TO PART 4  |  PART 3  |  PART 2  |  PART 1

Day 9 - Budapest (Part 4)

DANUBE RIVER CRUISE

By a stroke of good luck, we bumped into a young lad promoting the Hop-On-Hop-Off tickets between the Danube Promenade and Petofi Ter. Following his direction, we arrived at the respective dock to begin the river cruise. There were several cruise companies operating from this side of the Danube.

The few raindrops became a light drizzle and those sitting under the sun on the open deck rushed to occupy seats in the boat which were sheltered from the element.

Left twin spires of Church of St Anne

Buda Castle Quarter Palace complex of Hungarian kings Built 1265

Buda Calvinist Church Church of St Anne on right

Church of St Anne twin spires

Left - Matthias Church
Roof made of colored shingles and elegant pinnacles
Right - Fisherman Bastion
Built 1905
with 7 towers representing the 7 Magyar clan leaders
who first entered the Carpathian Basin

Upper Deck, River Cruise Background - Rock Chapel, Gellert Hill

Rock Chapel, Gellert Hill

Parliament

Tisza Istvan Monument South Entrance : Parliament

Commercial Blocks

Peeled Plaster or were those the damage left behind by Air Raids during the war?

St Gellert was an 11th century bishop from Italy who was invited by King St Stephen to help convert the Hungarians to Christianity. A mob of resisting pagans rolled him down the hill in a barrel into the Danube in 1046. Gellert Hill was named after the good bishop.

The Statue of St Gellert Gellert Monument

The red tower structure north-west of Gellert Monument peeking from between the green canopy

This tower structure wasn't a tourist attraction. Curious to know what it was, an ancient ruin perhaps, forgotten by History, I investigated. The exact location of this tower structure turned out to be Orom Utca 4

Statue of Liberty The Citadel, Gellert Hill

Statue of Liberty standing at The Citadel on Gellert Hill (liberation from Nazi rule)

Chain Bridge (Oldest Public Bridge)
Siklo Funicular Service on the right
Clark Adam Ter

Hilltop residential

Margaret Bridge Second Oldest Public Bridge Leads to Margaret Island in the middle of the Danube

Massive statue of galley prows

below Margaret Bridge

During the middle ages, Margaret Island was known as Island of Rabbits. It was the royal hunting reserve. King Bela IV founded a nunnery on the island after the 13th century Mongol invasion. He vowed to send his daughter (Princess Margaret) to a Dominican nunnery if he could rebuild his kingdom which was devastated by the Mongols. As the story goes, the Mongol invaders were suddenly recalled to their homeland and the good king proceeded to reorganize and rebuild. Remembering his vows, the king sent the 11 year-old Margaret to the convent on Margaret Island. Not the nunnery where Princess Margaret was sent to. This is the Danubius Grand Hotel Margitsziget

Tip of Margaret Island Water Tower Margaret Island

At this point, the boat turned around and returned to the dock. Clearing out, we crossed the street and ended up here at Petofi Square. This is Stop No: 5 of The Pink Line.

Petofi ter

The statue at the center is Sandor Petofi, a Hungarian poet/politician. The pink coach on the right is one of the coaches operated by The Pink Line. 

Meanwhile, raindrops are falling on my head so I whipped out the disposable raincoat we had brought along for contingencies such as these.

PART 5

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