Halfway down the Danube

The Esplanade

The view from the east bank of the Danube, in Budapest, is one of the noblest sights in Europe.

Picture the American Capitol building lifted up on top of a steep hill. Then, off a little to one side, put a cathedral. Run a river along the base of the hill; then cross the river with two beautiful suspension bridges. Along the base of the hill, under the Capitol and the Cathedral, put a long line of lovely old townhouses.

Then wait for a cold winter night and light the whole thing up.

It's lovely, and I was really looking forward to seeing it again. On the evening after my conference was finished, I threw on my overcoat and headed for the Esplanade.

But I was missing a key piece of information. I didn't know that, after dark, the Esplanade becomes the main drag for Budapest's prostitutes.

The ladies walk up and down, in little groups of two or three, each patrolling one stretch of the esplanade. And, let me tell you: on a chilly December evening when the tourist trade is slow, a solitary man attracts a lot of attention.

So, as I walked along, I left a sort of bow wave of solicitation and disappointment:

"Hello!"

"Helloooo..."

"You speak English?"

"You need a date?"

"Very nice... Very good..."

"You don't like?"

"Why not? Why not!?"

"Hey! Hey!"

Well. Moving right along, I crossed the Szechenyi Chain Bridge. This gorgeous bridge dates from 1849, and it was built by one Szechenyi, who was a brilliant idealistic reformer who eventually went insane. Szechenyi wanted the bridge to be the symbol of a new and progressive Hungary. Unfortunately, just as the bridge was getting finished, Hungary rebelled against Austria. So the final planks on the bridge were laid, not by Szechenyi's workers, but by Austrian military engineers preparing the way for the Austrian army to cross the river to crush the Hungarian uprising.

The whole thing seems exceedingly Hungarian to me, but maybe that's just me.

Oh yah -- like much else in this part of the world, the bridge was blown up by the Nazis as they retreated across the Danube in 1945. But the Hungarians rebuilt it, and today you'd never know. The stone lions still guard each entrance, and there's still a modest brass plaque commemorating poor Szechenyi.

Stop halfway across and look up at the Castle, bright in the cold winter night, while underneath the dark Danube flows on.

Nice work, Szechenyi.

Posted by douglas at December 16, 2003 10:45 AM