Budapest I

I thought I would begin writing a few posts about some places I have been, offering different ideas about each place. We'll see how it goes.

So this begins the first of a few posts about Budapest. Budapest is an amazing city. It is currently quite a value, as you can do, see, and eat pretty cheaply.

Budapest has a sad history from the twentieth century. The city spent much of the last one hundred years under some very oppressive regimes: first the Nazis, then a fifty year occupation by Soviet communism. WWII was not nice to them, as Hitler took over the country. Then the aftermath of the war allowed the Soviets to bully them for decades.

They seem to be doing well now, twenty-five years after the Soviets pulled out. The effects of Communism can be seen if you just look up. But, at the same time, their recovery efforts are also quite visible. My favorite place in the whole city is Ferenciek tere, a city square located not too far from the center of the city. There are two identical buildings in this square, straddling a road. Both had fifty years of dirt and soot on them, as cleanliness was not high on the list of importance during the Communist regime. One has since been cleaned and looks beautiful. The other building remains dirty. All you have to do is compare the two to get a stark reminder of Budapest's history.

The Cave Church lives on today.

Located on the banks of the Danube River, this church is literally located inside a cave. It's a beautiful place.

This is but one of the sanctuaries inside the church. The church was locked up for many years during the twentieth century, as the government did not allow worship to go on freely. I cannot remember all the particulars; but the church has a fascinating history, as people have met secretly to worship, at different points, for hundreds of years. The church is still in operation today and provides worshippers a very unique setting in which to worship.

You will not find the Cave Church at the top of many travel guides' lists . . . and rightfully so. You probably should not spend a great deal of time here, unless something really catches your interest. But, nonetheless, I would highly recommend taking the time to go inside. If you decide to go to the top of Gellert Hill to see a panorama of the city, be sure to go by it on your way up or on your way down, as it is located at the bottom of the hill, on its southern side. You will be rewarded with some beautiful views of the river and of the city.

Just Look Up

Some of life's greatest gifts are right in front of us. We just have to look up.

I was fortunate to be able to make a trip to the Masters Golf Tournament at Augusta National Golf Course in Augusta, Georgia a couple of years ago. The experience was a once in a lifetime sort of deal.

I was able to not only go on the day that I was supposed to go (Thursday); but through some research and through going out on a limb, I was able to work my way onto the course on Wednesday, too. Wednesday is the day the Par 3 Tournament is played. On this tiny little course, you can stand in one spot, look in all directions, and see amazing things.

Such was the case with the picture above. I looked to my right and saw Gary Player, Arnold Palmer, and Jack Nicklaus walking up one hole. Amazing.

Like most people on the course that day, I was busy snapping up photos because Wednesday is one of the few days that you are able to bring a camera on course. But fortunately, I put the camera down every now and then and looked around to soak it all in. Good thing I did, as I came across these three legends.

But, of course, I had to take a picture of it.

Rushing the Field

I have never really understood the concept of rushing the field or the court after a big win. Fortunately, this phenomenon seems to be contained to college sports. But, on the other hand, college kids seem to do some of the dumbest things . . . so that might not be all that fortunate after all.

This seems to particularly happen after an upset. Such was the case for a Georgia Tech football game we attended a few years ago, while living in Georgia. If memory serves me correct, Tech was probably ranked, though not all that high, perhaps somewhere between 15 - 25. Their opponent that night, Virginia Tech, was ranked fifth in the nation.

There was a pretty packed house. So, after Georgia Tech won, there was quite a feeling of excitement in the air. And many of those in attendance felt the need to run onto the field

And sort of stand there and look at each other.

Again, I do not understand this phenomenon. But then again, there is much I do not understand.

Hope

I have been fascinated with this picture for years:

The pic is from a trip to Big Bend State Park. It is taken somewhere in between Midland and Pecos, Texas . . . in other words, literally, in the middle of nowhere.

The landscape truly is indicative of those parts: barren and dry. One cannot get a feeling for how truly barren the landscape is without having actually been there. 

You can see for miles and miles, in all directions. In fact, if you look closely on the horizon, you will see a mountain range. The range is in Balmorrhea. I remembered at the time, though I have forgotten now. But I am sure those mountains are at least 50 miles from where the picture was taken. Still, the mountains provide hope that there is something different, something not-so-barren not too terribly far down the road.

Seems to be a good metaphor for life. We can easily feel barren and dry in our own lives, for a multitude of reasons. But it helps to have something on the horizon, calling us forward, calling us to continue traveling, giving us hope.

Flatiron

I have always been fascinated with the Flatiron Building in New York City.

I can remember seeing it in books as a child and thinking how incredible it must be. And after seeing it, I am just as amazed as I was when I was a child. At the time of its building, many people thought it was simply fall over at some point. And I can see why. It's just a really interesting building.

I had no idea that a Flatiron Building also existed in Chicago until reading a travel guide book before going there. Sure, it's nothing like the one in NYC. But it's still an interesting building.

And I'm not really sure if this qualifies for a Flatiron Building. But it does sort of come together in a similar fashion. I came across this while walking along Magazine Street in New Orleans. Nothing like NYC . . . or Chicago . . . but still interesting.

Balance

The best travelling experiences are often a mixes of what you anticipated and surprises, of kitschy, touristy things and things you had no idea existed. I have found that it's okay to pop into the really popular, touristy sites, as long as you balance that out with getting off the beaten path, taking side streets, doing some exploring on your own.

If all you do is go where the big crowds are, you will likely spend most of your time waiting in a line and wind up with few memorable experiences. You'll also be robbed of conversations with and experiences with locals. You won't find that coffee shop that no other tourists know about because you will have missed out on the conversation with the local who has lived there all their life . . . or the really, really good pizza place that is right around the corner, right off of the main road that no one else seems to venture down.

All of that being said, you should still indulge yourself on the things you really want to do, no matter how touristy or kitschy they may seem. While in New York City, I really wanted to go up to the top of the Empire State Building. I had read and heard a number of people talk about the incredibly long lines to get to the top. I knew that I might very well be disappointed when I got to the top.

So I wanted until late in the afternoon. I still dealt with some fairly long lines and all the hassle of going through lots of security and lots of people trying to sell you photos and other annoying things. But I got to the top at just the right moment; and I am very glad I followed my instinct and went on up anyway . . .

Roads II

Similar to Route 66, I have always been fascinated by Highway 80. You don't see too much about it these days, as we refer to it today mostly as Interstate 20. But if you travel on I-20 for a while, you'll see a fair number of signs of Highway 80. That is because I-20 parallels Highway 80 for much of its path.

Years ago, when interstate highways were built, many of them took the same path as some of the major highway systems of the day, eventually bypassing many of those highway systems. Some of those systems cease to exist anymore. Some of them are still around, though . . . as can be seen here:

All roads have a beginning and ending. Most of the time, the road just simply begins and ends with little to no fanfare. Fortunately, there are places, such as Chicago & L.A. with Route 66, that commemorate where a road starts and where it terminates.

One end of Highway 80 is in Tybee Island, Georgia, as we found a few years ago. I had seen pictures of this sign before a trip to that area and wanted to be sure to see it. Not sure why but I find things like this interesting and fascinating. Highway 80 was and is a big piece of Americana and what keeps our country going. I think it's a good thing to celebrate it.

Wonderful Views

During our travels, many times we search long and hard for the perfect view of something. Perhaps we think it is just around the corner . . . or we hope if we move a little this way or that way, we can find just the right spot. At other times, views simply come to us.

That's the case here. There were a number of spots I wanted to get to in Budapest to be able to capture what I thought was going to be an incredible photo . . . only to get there and the elements weren't right or it just plain stunk. This picture, however, was a complete surprise.

We came out of St. Stephen's Cathedral, which we had been looking forward to seeing. It wasn't a complete dud; but it sure did not meet our expectations. As we came out, we looked up and saw this. The picture might not capture the beauty of the moment. But as we looked down Zrinyi Utca (street), we could see all the way to the Danube River and across it into the hills far beyond it. It was breathtaking. We stood there for a few minutes in awe.

There is nothing wrong with doing extensive research to aid us in finding great spots to see. In fact, for me, that is part of the fun of travelling. But we must be open to new discoveries, things that just pop up. And when they do pop up, we need to take the time to fully enjoy them.

Changing It Up

Modern-day cameras are amazing. I'm impressed with I can do even with our fairly normal camera.

I took a little time and made the same image look completely different. I like all three pictures, as each of them seems to highlight or make something different stand out. The black-and-white pic is in my office because to me, it really is sort of breathtaking, especially in a 20 x 30 frame. What the black and white colors do to the church in the background is outstanding.

Life is sort of like that, too. If we allow ourselves to see things from a different perspective, we can have a totally different outlook . . . or at least understand how others would have a totally different outlook from us.

Roads

I have always been fascinated with roads. Not sure why. But roads, where they go, their numbers, the way they curve . . . all of it has always fascinated me.

I have particularly been interested in the beginning and ending of roads, to know that a road begins somewhere and ends somewhere, and doesn't just go on forever, to locate where it starts and where it ends. That stuff really gets me going.

Route 66 is probably the most famous road in America. I feel honored to have seen where it begins, in Chicago, and where it ends, on the Santa Monica Boardwalk in Los Angeles.

The two places, its beginning and ending, are very different. As you can see, its beginning is barely marked. It is in downtown Chicago and if it were not for this sign, no one would have a clue (although, if you go one block over, there is also a sign on a one-way street going the other way, marking its ending). I had to dig fairly hard to even find this sign. A travel guide book told me of its whereabouts. I had been by it a few times on The El, the Chicago downtown inner-loop subway system, seen in the background. But I had to walk the streets for probably thirty minutes or so before I found the signs. In fact, I almost gave up, thinking I was in the wrong place.

The road's terminus, on the other hand, is done in typical American kitschy style. There are all sorts of markers along the boardwalk, complete with many touristy shops where you can purchase all sorts of paraphernalia. And, if my memory serves me correctly, there is one shop that is completely devoted to Route 66 with lots of interesting information.

Two completely different places. I guess that probably says a lot about Route 66 . . . and America . . . and the world we live in. Neither of them are necessarily right, neither necessarily wrong. It's interesting to be able to go to both places and not discount or put down either of them.

Really Good Eats

If you haven't been, you need to go to Chicago.

If you go to Chicago, you need to eat deep-dish pizza.

We tried a couple of different places. Gino's East is good. But by far, the best is Lou Malnati's. The pizza there is really more of an experience than a plate of food. The word "pie" really encapsulates what their pizza is.

That's it. No life lessons in this post or anything like that. Just go to Chicago. And eat at Lou Malnati's.

Too Much of a Good Thing

There really can be too much of a good thing.

When I travel, I find all sorts of things that I enjoy. Something I have learned (about myself, really) through my travels is that I tend to want to gravitate towards what I enjoy, over and over again. For instance . . .

The Bluebird Cafe in Nashville, Tennesse is a wonderful place. I came across it during my first visit to the city while at a conference. A number of conference-go'ers and I went to a concert there one night; and I was immediately hooked. The place brings in artists, many of them well-known, and does very small, intimate concerts. I had always longed to go to a place like this. I'm not really all that big a fan of enjoying concert music with thousands of my closest friends. This was the antedote I had been looking for for years.

I was so hooked that when my wife got to town a couple of days later, I drug her (she wanted to go, too, though) back to the Bluebird. Then we went again the next night.

The place frankly lost some its luster by the third visit. That was not the place's fault. That was my fault. I enjoyed it once. Great. I went back again. Okay, that's enough. But a third time? That is simply wasting time while travelling to a place with so many great sites.

My wife and I have been back again; and we enjoyed it very much. But I learned a valuable lesson during my first trip. Finding something you enjoy, particularly while travelling, is great. But beating it into the ground by trying to squeeze all the enjoyment that you can out of it . . . well, it's just a little silly . . . because you really can get too much of a good thing.

Borders

I have always been fascinated by borders between countries, states, etc. It may be due to spending my childhood in the center of a state that is large enough to be considered a country in most areas of the world. Because of this, I rarely crossed into another state. So when I did, it was pretty remarkable.

While living in Georgia, we crossed state lines many times. In fact, we lived so close to the Alabama border that our cell phones were often confused which time zone it was in. On one day trip, I came across a restaurant that actually has a state line running right through the middle of it:

I remember the food being not all that tasty. But I also remember being able to almost straddle the state line while using the restroom.

State lines are interesting.

Keeping the Dream Alive

Something I love about travel is dreaming . . . 

For instance, I have a dream trip: fly into Rome, spend a couple of days, take a bus over to the eastern coast of Italy, ferry over to the Croatian coastal city of Dubrovnick, and then up to the city of Korcula.

It's a dream trip. Not sure if I'll ever make it. But, really, that's not the point. Having the dream is what keeps the energy and passion going.

Here's another dream:

While on a boat in Port Aransas, Texas last summer, I saw this island (in the foreground). Throughsome  research, I found out the island is uninhabited. A boat goes from the mainland to the island a couple of times a day. But no lives there. There are no restaurants, no hotels. Nothing. Just land.

My dream is to go spend a day on the island. Sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day.

Not sure if I'll ever make it. I'd like to. I hope to. But simply having that dream, researching it, having a passion for it . . . that seems to be enough to make the dream worthwhile.

Places We Never Forget

In the midst of all of the traveling we do, so many places and faces, sights and food, really everything that we do can get sort of lost in the midst. We can journal and take pictures as we go. But there is no way to remember all that we do in our travels.

But, there are some places that stand out, that sort of stand above others. These are often places that we cannot help but remember because of some type of powerful experience we had there.

This was such a place for me:

This is the 18th teebox at Augusta National. Words cannot describe the experience I had attending the Masters Golf Tournament in Augusta, Georgia a couple of years ago. So I will not even try to put to words what the experience meant to me.

The above picture was taken on Wednesday of tournament week, one of the days that cameras are allowed onto the course. I also attended the Thursday round, the first round of tournament play, when cameras are not allowed.

I remember being at this exact same place on Thursday, taking it all in. Something about the place, its magic, its charm caused me to slow down. If you know me, you know that I am notorious for being in a hurry, whether working, traveling, or whatever it may be that I am doing. I had been taking that same approach to my time in Augusta. I was scurrying around, trying to pack as many things into the time I had, trying get to every nook and cranny of the course during my time there.

But for some reason, on that Thursday morning, looking down the fairway on hole number eighteen, I realized that I needed to stop, to smell the roses, if you will, and enjoy the moment. I truly look to that experience, to that particular moment, as a turning point. I think back about that moment and that day and my being forced to slow down and enjoy each moment for what it had to offer as I go about life now.

To truly enjoy the Masters, one must take it all in and be open to what each new moment and each new experience has to offer. Augusta National demands that you calm yourself while on its hallowed grounds. It's the same with life. When we travel, if we listen . . . if we listen to the places we go, if we listen to the people we encounter, if we listen to ourselves, we can learn all sorts of life-changing lessons.

Comparing

While living in Georgia for a few years, we made a couple of trips up to the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina. To be honest, at first, I was not all that impressed with the Smokies. Upon seeing them, I would always compare them with the Rocky Mountains that I had seen in Colorado. And I would immediately criticize what we found in North Carolina for being substandard to what we found hundreds of miles to the west.

That's unfortunate. I think it's probably part in our DNA, though. The need to compare things is probably what makes us human. But it also keeps us from enjoying, or at least appreciating, what we witness.

As you can see, the Smokies are quite amazing. The way they roll off into the fog in the distance makes them look like . . . well, like they disappear into the smoke (hence, the name).

The reality is that they are nothing like the Rocky Mountains. But then again, the Rockies are nothing like the Smokies. They are apples and oranges, both amazing, in and of themselves.

I realized this while hiking to the top of Grandfather Mountain, close to Boone, as seen in the picture above. We need to fight, or at least acknowledge, the instinct that is deep within each of us to be constantly comparing our surroundings with other things or with what we know best. The world is made up of lots of amazing things, each different and unique from each other. We need not always compare them. We would be better off to take in and enjoy what is in front of us for what it is.