“Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!” sings ole Dean Martin. Yet, Taylor has already tired of the constant snow here in Fehérvár. The constant snow has had us holing up in our apartment, bundled up in covers, the steam of our hot tea caressing our faces as we research trips to the back of beyond. Sunday, however, we broke free of our cocoon of blankets and set out to see the House of Terror in Budapest. We enjoyed a piddling morning and were a bit late getting out to Budapest. When we arrived, Taylor was starving! We made it to the House of Terror, only to go out searching for food without even entering the museum.
Taylor was determined not to eat pizza again, as it is her everyday vice. So we traipsed across the snowy sidewalks, looking for anything that wasn’t KFC, Subway, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, or Burger King, the only open restaurants that we’d seen. We ended up quite out of the way, at a hole in the wall gyro restaurant, where Taylor ordered pizza and pasta – haha! After finishing her meal, we set out in the wrong direction, making a full circle back to the House of Terror, and managing to stop at a lovely bakery along the way, where we tasted delicious marzipan in the shapes of kissable froggies.
We made it back to the House of Terror with an hour and a half to see the museum. It ended up being free, as the ticket saleswoman thought that we were British! The museum was incredibly interesting, yet a bit of a disappointment, as it was not English-speaker friendly. The exhibits themselves were not all translated – it was difficult to understand exactly what we were looking at. The information was distributed to us on sheets of paper that we felt we could have read from a website or history book – but nonetheless, riveting. I began to understand why the Hungarians, unlike the Italians, are not as quick to talk about politics, or as quick to instigate a political debate. Being on the wrong side of a political discussion – even thinking about being on the wrong side of a political discussion – often got people killed.
We left the museum to search out comfy leather chairs and coffee, happy to enjoy a lazy wait for our train. We arrived home in Fehérvár to sparse bus schedules, hiking through the snow back to our apartment, where we rolled dough, making a grand attempt at the delicious Hungarian cheese straw recipe a student had given me. Pleased with our efforts, we goofed off, having a wonderful night with little rest – and spent Monday recouping, being laze-a-beds, napping and reading after work.
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