The family of five explored the length and breadth of Kossuth Ter while we, having decided to go on the Hop-On-Hop-Off City Tour walked towards one of the buses to inquire. The blocks of building after the Parliament were quiet. Tram lines crisscrossed in a chaotic pattern of lines. By and by, we reached the Danube Promenade. More stone statues appeared. By this time, we were swamped with so many that we no longer cared who or what they did to be where they were.
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Wandering in no particular direction, we found ourselves outside Tokio Restaurant, a Japanese restaurant at the intersection of Zrinyi utca. They were not opened for business until half an hour later so we walked along Zrinyi utca towards a distant church.
The building along this stretch looked grim. The street was washed by a sea of faces, mainly tourists. Looking down after taking the above shot, my eyes fell upon a young man at the corner carrying a paper cup filled with water. He dropped to his knees to cajole his unleashed poodle, pointing at the cup of water now placed on the raised curb next to the street. . The pooch took a few dips at the water but could not be persuaded to drink more. The owner picked up the cup and got to his feet to follow the pooch as it turned the corner towards another street. Near him was the manhole below.
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| manhole |
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| St Stephen's Basilica |
The church was a major tourist attraction and it was located way, way, way in front and one had to rub shoulders with hordes of tourist so ... yup! I did not make it to the end. Besides, the attraction was the mummified right hand of St Stephen, Hungary's first king and I wasn't particularly fond of mummies so ... right!
We walked towards the church to an intersection where a copper figure stood. He was an old Hungarian policeman from the early 1900s. Many stopped for selfies next to him, rubbing his pot belly affectionately.
Remembering that our goal was the Hop-On-Hop-Off city tour, we did an about turn towards the Tourist Information Center near the Danube Promenade.
By the time we reached the intersection, the Tokio Restaurant was opened for business and not a minute sooner for a 15 minutes hailstorm came in our wake.
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The restaurant was popular among the local white collared. We took a seat at a quiet corner and ordered a chicken teppanyaki and some udon noodles to be washed down with hot green tea.
A young Caucasian couple took the table next to ours. The girl was furious. She wanted to know where the boy went.
"When you entered the car, I asked you several times where you went. You did not tell me. Where did you go?" she demanded to know. The boy looked away. The girl raised her voice. I paid attention. Not getting any response, the girl glared at the boy.
The silence blended into the aroma of our food. Mine was presented on a huge white platter. The chicken was cut in one inch cubes and grilled. Next to them were one shitake mushroom, two pieces of capsicum, cucumber slices and a slice of eggplant, all grilled. It was not served with white rice so I ordered some. The best part of the meal was the white rice. The next best was the hot green tea.
Outside, the wind turned blustery and tiny drops of rain continued falling. As we stood to leave after paying the bill, I wondered where the family of five went. (They were trying out the Hungarian Goulash at a restaurant near us.)
Meanwhile, the girl at the next table smiled precociously at the boy. When they first entered the restaurant, he was seated on a chair across from her. Now they were seated together, their arms entwined, the issue of where he went lost between my chicken teppanyaki and the udon noodles.
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