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Much of our time in Budapest involves wandering aimlessly with no plan or direction in mind – but this isn’t so bad, as every street is different character and just waiting to be explored. Visually, it’s seeping with forlorn and decaying Communist glory while also sparkling with the ever more common pretense of new Capitalist prosperity. It’s this odd blending that is truly intriguing.
There is hardly any point going to sleep at all. Our flight to Budapest departs at after 6 in the morning, and so we have to be up around 2.30am to catch a double-decker ghost train to Schonefeld airport. At the station, it soon becomes apparent that there is nobody but us. It’s bitingly cold and eerily silent – an unaltered stagnation in the dead of night, yet in the centre of a city.
