Budapest Day 20

Today was another transfer day. These are the days I have the hardest time with. Perhaps because packing and unpacking is annoying, especially since there seems to be more to pack each time. Perhaps because it is a very humid and rainy day and perhaps because the cold seems to be quite happy resting in my chest.

We had to say goodbye to the Corinthia Hotel today. I wouldn't have minded finishing off our trip there as this is the place to go if you want total attention to every detail, if you like elegance and if you want to feel like you belong to the 'haves a lot' rather than the 'haves enough'. We lingered over breakfast and said good bye to a very nice older couple from Connecticut who we had spent some time with. There was some last minute packing (repacking), looking for lost items, like the adapter I borrowed and finalizing tickets for the performances over the next few days with the concierge.

I bought another adapter at a nearby store and we headed out for the Museum of Applied Arts a beautiful building, although a little worse for wear, with a green ceramic tile roof. I'm afraid I was a terrible companion once again. Gila, being Gila noticed every sign and store in this new neighbourhood and realized that it was the XXX section of town. She was amazed to find it located in so open and busy a city square, but unfortunately, I couldn't muster the same enthusiasm. The best I could do was wait as patiently as I could under a tree, hoping to stay as dry as I could while she captured all the details on her camera. Even standing outside the actual building, she wanted to point out all the features that appealed to her. All I wanted was to get in out of the rain.

It is strange that most of the exhibits were temporary and to see these displays, you had to buy a dual ticket. Seeing only the small permanent works on display was not an option. I enjoyed this museum more than I expected. The interior of the building was completely white with ornate arches all around. The centre was an atrium topped with a rose window. Grand marble staircases graced each side of the hall. The first floor was devoted to modern Italian designers. Although their chairs, tables and shelves have become part of the modern idiom, it did not appeal to me. Gila was fascinated by the strength of the design and wanted to photograph the showcases, but this was not permitted, so while I enjoyed a cup of tea, she went through the exhibit again making notes and sketches of the show. The second floor consisted of beautiful inlaid and carved furniture pieces, vases, plates, silver sets and even antique clothing and lace gifted to the museum through the years by patrons. Another exhibit consisted of ceramic, tiles, pillars, cornices and the like used in the Paris exhibition of the late nineteenth century and bought by the museum in 1900. This was the first exhibit of these works since they had arrived in Hungary over a hundred years ago. There were also graceful personal care items by Lalique, Tiffany lamps, stained glass panels, goblets and every size and design of vase. The third floor displayed unusual examples of bookbinding and a wonderful exhibit of carpets, clothes, sabers, daggers and pottery from the Ottoman Empire.

I have to admit that I enjoyed this site more than I had anticipated. I also went at my own pace and didn't mind resting while Gila took her time recording it all on her camera and sketch pad. It was now time to find our way back to the hotel, claim our luggage and find our new lodgings, a small but very neat little apartment only a few blocks away from the hotel and even closer to the Opera according to the map.  As close as it was, we took a taxi considering that it was still raining and our baggage is becoming more and more bulky. Good thing! We might still be looking for the right place if I were charged with finding it.  The building looks like many of the complexes in movies filmed in Hungary, a central open court, with the hallway to each of the apartments on an outdoor balcony with wrought iron. Like so many other places we have seen, the exterior is a little shabby, with peeling paint etc., but thankfully the interior of the apartment has been maintained. Rather than rushing to another gallery and trying to make the opera on time. We spent the afternoon settling in. I napped. Gila painted, sketched, wrote, surfed the net? Take your pick.

Unfortunately, my navigating skills have seriously deteriorated and it is unlikely that I can blame it on feeling unwell. When we left the apartment for a bite (we hadn't had lunch again), I steered us in the totally wrong direction. We found somewhere to eat a snack, but by that time we discovered, after asking a few passers by, that we were far away from the Opera House. A taxi was a very quick and easy solution. It took less than five minutes by car. I should have learned from that what to do when lost.

Our seats were in the centre of the third row and thank goodness the soprano in the lead sang instead of screeching. I am not an aficionado of Opera. I have only been to two previous performances and I suppose my reaction was based on that lack of experience. La Traviata is performed in Italian with surtitles above the stage. I kept glancing at the translation realizing each time that I understood more of the Italian sung than the Hungarian written above the stage.

The costumes of the ladies of the chorus were frilled and tiered looking exactly like the crocheted dolls that sit on toilet paper rolls. In another scene, the dresses looked like draperies and shower curtains. One particular gown had two large circles on the bodice that looked like the demarcation of her breasts. Violetta, the main character has consumption, but the force with which she was able to sing seemed very powerful for a person with breathing difficulties. It is not a wonder that Violetta died after getting out of bed and singing her heart out. Having expended all that energy and breath, she collapsed on the stage. The other thing I had not seen before were the curtain calls after each act and a very lengthy one at the end of the performance. The music was beautifully lilting and despite a few missed notes in the first act, the lead soprano had a lot of nuance in her singing. The singer who played Alfred was often drowned out the orchestra, but the performance improved as the play progressed. Alfred's dad was very effective. He had a supreme control and range. I am learning an appreciation of opera. We will see if Madama Butterfly on Thursday evening will meet with my approval.

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Although it was late, we set out to find a meal. We found several open restaurants in Liszt square. Dinner was much appreciated by this time and although the restaurant was closing, we were allowed to finish our meals in leisure. During dinner I checked the map a number of times and I was sure that it was just a short walk home. My navigation license, however, is being revoked and I am delegating myself as follower for the rest of the trip. I am definitely far less effective than a GPS. I took us completely in the wrong direction and we were wandering alone through Budapest at midnight. Of course, being stubborn, I was sure I could still find our way. Gila the more reasonable of the two, decided a taxi was the solution. She was right. Thank goodness one of us has a functioning brain and good sense.

Tomorrow we have to return to the Museum of Applied Arts. Gila bought a book, a lovely clutch bag and very interesting bookends in the shape of flames early in our visit. She decided to leave the bag in the gift shop while we continued our visit. Because of her concern for me, she forgot to pick it up on our way out. Then we have to head in the exact opposite direction to visit the museum of fine art and the Hungarian National Museum in Hero Square. As I am becoming a liability rather than an asset, Gila is getting the map and will be in charge for the remainder of the trip. I don't want this wonderful adventure to end on a sour note.