Cameron’s Travels

You’re walking through Budapest, ogling the grand architecture of Liberty Square, when you bump into someone familiar. That confident stride, that easy smile, that well-coiffed hair: It’s Ronald Reagan. But why on earth is the Gipper hanging out in this prime piece of Hungarian real estate?

The answer is…complicated. But it begins with understanding Hungary’s current ruling party, Fidesz, and its prime minister, Viktor Orbán. Part of travel is learning about the current events of other countries. And over the last few years, Hungary has had one of Europe’s most fascinating political climates.

After Hungary’s previous leadership — the hard-left Social Democrats — immersed the country in debt and humiliating scandals, the political pendulum took a hard swing to the right. In 2010, Viktor Orbán’s party, Fidesz, took power in Hungary. A kindred spirit of Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump, Orbán first came on the scene back in 1989, when — as a long-haired, anti-communist radical — he delivered a rollicking speech in the waning days of communism. As his political career evolved, he moved gradually toward the nationalistic, authoritarian end of the spectrum. During his first term as prime minister, Orbán wore a child’s backpack decorated with soccer players, to drive home his unpretentious, populist affinities. And throughout his career, he has gained rabid supporters in the Hungarian heartland even as he’s horrified big-city progressives and international observers.

Soon after taking power, Fidesz adopted a new constitution that stripped away many checks and balances, and entrenched party leaders in institutions that had previously been considered apolitical. They also nationalized the school system, implementing a Fidesz-friendly curriculum. (Hungarian parents critical of Fidesz equate this to if the US government unilaterally removed all mention of the slave trade, the Trail of Tears, evolution, and climate change from textbooks.) International observers took note when Fidesz created a new FCC-like media authority with sweeping powers — leaving the Hungarian press less free than it once was. Orbán also attempted to levy a per-use tax on all Internet traffic, until tens of thousands of protesters clogged city streets… making it clear Fidesz had gone too far.

If you’ve heard of Viktor Orbán, it was probably in the fall of 2015, when Hungary took a particularly hard line in preventing the flow of Syrian war refugees from entering their country en route to a better life in Western Europe. Orbán erected barbed wire and dispatched an intimidating border defense squad to make it clear that refugees weren’t welcome. While humanitarians condemned Orbán’s actions — which violated the European Union’s open-borders agreements, and left many desperate people with nowhere to go — his supporters tout his success in preventing unwanted refugees from flooding the country.

Fidesz has left their mark all over the Hungarian capital. They went on a renaming binge in Budapest, rechristening streets, squares, and parks to honor patriotic or obscure (but Fidesz-friendly) historical figures. (They even renamed the country: No longer the “Republic of Hungary,” the nation is now formally called, simply, “Hungary.”)

Fidesz also erected a dynamic new monument on Liberty Square, honoring the “Hungarian Victims of Fascism.” While it’s true that many Hungarians died at the hands of the Nazi regime, the monument overlooks the critical fact that Hungary chose to ally with the Nazis early in the war, and that Nazi-empowered Hungarians were some of the worst perpetrators of the Holocaust. As soon as the official monument went up, locals improvised their own memorial directly in front of it — ensuring that the complete history is represented.

In another bold move, for the last couple of years the Parliament has flown two flags: Hungary…and Transylvania. That region (now firmly in Romania) was part of the Hungarian realm for a thousand years. But it was stripped away from Hungary in the Treaty of Trianon that ended World War I. While nationalistic politicians have long used Transylvania (which still has a large Hungarian-speaking minority) as a rallying cry, Fidesz has taken it a step farther: The Transylvanian flag currently occupies the pole that was once reserved for the European Union…making Hungary the only EU member that refuses to fly the EU flag on their capitol.

Up on Castle Hill, overlooking the entire city of Budapest, Orbán has evicted the National Academy of Dance, and is currently renovating their former home to be his personal palace. Critics point out that the Parliament was intentionally built along the riverfront in the city center, to show that the government is one with the people. By moving to the castle — literally looking down on all of Budapest — Orbán is signaling a startlingly different philosophy. (Speculation is that the Royal Palace itself — currently occupied by a pair of museums and some offices — may be next.)

It’s easy to criticize Orbán. But as a traveler who drops in every year or two, I must admit that, from an infrastructure and urban-beautification perspective, Budapest has made great strides in recent years. Under Fidesz, vast swaths of the city have been scrubbed clean, pedestrianized, and landscaped. The formerly ragtag square behind the Parliament has been totally renovated — leaving it sleek, monumental, and (for some) a little too Fascist-feeling. (The brand-new “Changing of the Guard” ceremony — another Fidesz invention — doesn’t do much to reassure them.) The long-delayed green Metró line is finally finished…and it’s slick. And I sense a general pride that I wasn’t aware of 10 years ago. Obviously, the foundations for many of these projects were laid by the previous, left-wing government. And much of the money comes from the EU, which — ironically — Orbán opposes. But the fact remains: A leader with an authoritarian streak gets things done. (I was similarly impressed after a recent visit to Moscow. Say what you will about Putin — and believe me, I know there’s plenty to say — but Moscow is becoming a truly gorgeous city.)

When viewed from a distance, Hungary’s political scene is intriguing…almost entertaining. But for people living there, it’s anything but. On this visit, one of my Hungarian friends — who has two school-age kids —asked me about employment opportunities in Seattle. She feels so depressed at the prospect of raising well-adjusted kids under a regime whose values she can’t stand that she’s considering moving the entire clan abroad until Fidesz is out of power. It reminds me of the pledge that I’ve heard recently from the anti-Trump crowd back home: “If he gets elected, I’m moving to Canada.” (It also made me wonder: There are plenty of tempting “socialist paradise” options for idealistic American lefties to relocate to…Canada, the UK, most of Europe, and so on. But — considering how fundamentally conservative the USA is compared to the rest of the developed world — where do right-wingers move if “things get bad enough”? Well, these days…maybe to Hungary.)

And what about Ronald Reagan? In the early days of Fidesz rule, as Orbán was beginning to take some serious international heat for his questionable policies, he thought it smart to suck up to the powerful USA by erecting a statue of a beloved president in a prime position. And then, perhaps not quite grasping the subtleties of American politics, Orbán invited then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to the unveiling.

While Reagan played a role in ending the Cold War, many Hungarian patriots are offended that this monument overshadows the contributions and sacrifices of so many other important, homegrown figures — including Imre Nagy, who was executed for taking a leading role in Hungary’s 1956 Uprising. Just a few steps away from Reagan, a pensive statue of Nagy looks toward the parliament dome. For years, Nagy’s confident gaze struck me as an optimistic sign: Hungary, so long oppressed by communism, was determined to keep an eye on its government to ensure it was moving the country in the right direction. But these days, Nagy looks worried. And, my progressive local friends swear, every time Fidesz passes a bold new reform…Nagy winces.

It’s the mid-2000s, and you’re opening a bar in Budapest. You’re scouting potential locations in the 7th District — the former Jewish Quarter, which, since communist times, has been derelict and largely abandoned. It’s a tough sell. Sure, rents are cheap. Very cheap. And the location is fantastic — a short walk from the main boulevard and the town center. But the properties are, simply put, total dumps. Stepping into a dilapidated courtyard — with crumbling plaster peeled back to reveal raw brick, rusty rebar sticking out at odd angles, and not a right angle in sight — you imagine the months of backbreaking work to turn this into a nice bar. But then you realize: Who says bars have to be nice? Some people like dives. And if they like dives, what’s to say they won’t love a ruin? Hey, that has a nice ring to it…

About a decade ago, Budapest invented a unique type of nightspot called a “ruin pub.” The original ruin pub — Szimpla — fills a deteriorating building and its courtyard with mismatched chandeliers, parachute-quilt awnings, lush houseplants, twinkle lights, artful graffiti, ramshackle secondhand furniture, old electronics lashed to the walls…and hundreds of drinkers having the time of their lives. It’s a chance to pretend you’re a squatter for a few hours, before returning to the comfort of your hotel. And, for locals, it’s nostalgic — along with beer, well drinks, and a list of creative cocktails, Szimpla serves the syrupy communist soda pops that Hungarian thirtysomethings were reared on: grape-flavored Traubisoda and sour cherry Meggymárka.

Szimpla remains the best of the ruin pubs. A fixture of the community, they post “don’t bother the neighbors” signs out front and even host a farmers market on Sunday mornings. But in the last several years, dozens of imitators have popped up all over the 7th District…and beyond. And these days, more and more people are flocking to Budapest not to tour the castle or the parliament, but to go on a ruin pub crawl. This scene may sound intimidating, but it’s very accessible. Each ruin pub has its own vibe, from younger party bars to mellow hangouts where hip oldsters are plenty comfortable. (Rick Steves wrote about his visit to Szimpla and some other ruin pubs a few years back.) To make things easier, here are a few tips or visiting ruin pubs — and a few alternatives:

Know the terminology. A romkocsma is a “ruin pub.” But other Hungarian terms can clue you in to the character of a specific ruin pub. Some ruin pubs bill themselves as a mulató (club, usually higher-energy) or a kávézó (coffeehouse, usually mellower). In good weather, the best part of a ruin pub is outdoors. Many have a kert (“garden”), with strings of lights lights, hammocks, and a bohemian-junkyard vibe. Others have a tető (“rooftop”), where you can get some fresh air and — often — views over the floodlit city. (More on that later.) In winter or bad weather, find one with a cozy interior.

Survey your options. The streets of the 7th District teem with ruin pubs. Before settling in, walk around and find one that suits your tastes. The highest concentration is in the streets between Király utca and Dohány utca, just behind the Great Synagogue. Stroll along Kazinczy utca, and don’t miss the long, crowded, narrow alley that heads south from there — it’s near two of the top ruin pubs, the straightforward Mika Kert and Ellátó Kert (colorful and rickety, with a Latin flair and a taco counter). Just to the north (on Dob utca), Rácskert has colorful plastic light tubes dangling overhead. And a few blocks west, just off the main boulevard (Andrássy út), Anker’t feels sleek, upscale, and minimalist — with unfinished timber tables and tasteful white hanging luminarias. (For a detailed “ruin pub crawl,” check out the Entertainment chapter of my Rick Steves Budapest guidebook.)

Grab a bite. A few high-quality, sit-down eateries have opened up in the 7th District (I recommended several — including Macesz Bistro, Mazel Tov, and KönyvBár & Restaurant) — in my previous post about foodie Budapest). But there are also simpler joints catering to drinkers who just want a late-night bite. You’ll see taco stands, burger windows, ramen shops, and — just a couple of doors down from Szimpla — the Street Food Karaván, a pod of creative food trucks with picnic tables.

Stroll through Gozsdu Udvar. Years ago, a professorial Budapest tour guide walked me through what was then an empty passageway that ran through the middle of a city block, tunneling elegantly beneath classic apartment buildings. “Passages like this — lined with local shops and cafés — used to be common in Budapest,” he told me. “But most are now in disrepair and have been sealed off. They’ve done a marvelous job fixing this one up. Pity it’s so sleepy, but maybe someday a few shops will move in.” Today, that passage — called Gozsdu Udvar — is sleepy no more. In fact, it has become the epicenter for the ruin pub scene, and it’s jammed with bars, cafés, restaurants (including a branch of DiVino Wine Bar), nightclubs, a video arcade, and more. Busy as it is, it can be easy to miss — find the entrances at Dob utca 16 or Király utca 13…or, if you come down the row of ruin pubs from Kazinczy utca, you’ll run right into it.

Gain some altitude. Of course, nightlife in Budapest goes well beyond the ruin pub scene. The rooftop bar trend has reached the Hungarian capital in a big way. Easily the best choice, 360 Bar has a classy vibe and perhaps the best views — sweeping panoramas over the domes of the Parliament and St. István’s Basilica. Other good choices are perched high above fancy hotels, but are open even to non-guests: High Note Sky Bar (atop the Aria Hotel) has vivid yellow sofas and point-blank views of St. István’s, while Top Rum Sky & Bar (above the Rum Hotel in Pest’s Town Center, overlooking University Square) has taken over an old favorite location, and is scheduled to re-open any day now (call first). For an edgier vibe, check out the ruin-pubby Gozsdu Sky Terrace (above the Gozsdu Udvar, tricky to find — ride the elevator up from the video arcade and walk through the parking garage) or the techno-nightclub Corvintető (topping an old department store near the Blaha Lujza tér Metró stop).

Take in an opera. OK, maybe I buried the lead: Budapest is also one of Europe’s great classical music cities, with one of Europe’s finest opera houses. But this is affordable opulence. At the Hungarian State Opera House, tickets are reasonably priced, ranging from $5 for the cheap seats to $65 for VIPs. But if you’re on a razor-thin budget, you can get standing-room tickets for just over $2; you can either stand with a limited view of the stage, or sit with no view at all. (Since the opera singers are on summer vacation, the Opera House is currently hosting a production of Billy Elliot — in the Hungarian language, as it was meant to be performed.)

“Slum” with the students. Tempting as Opera House is, there’s a new rival in town. The Franz Liszt Academy of Music recently reopened after a head-to-toe renovation of its stunning Art Nouveau concert hall (pictured above). The Liszt Academy’s Grand Hall rivals the Opera House in both opulence and price (good seats run $10-20). And music lovers on a budget can get even cheaper — or free — tickets for smaller venues and student recitals.

Go for a soak. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’ll remind you that Budapest has some amazing thermal spas — and some of them are open late into the evening. Széchenyi Baths (Budapest’s best thermal spa) is open until 10 p.m., and the later it gets, the calmer it gets (see photo above). But then, on weekends, it re-opens after closing time, and becomes a very wet, very hot dance “sparty,” with DJ music, boozy drinks, flashing lights, and hundreds of young Hungarians (and visitors) enjoying the good life.

Clearly, there’s no shortage of fun to be had after dark in Budapest. Whether you’re eating a street burger at 2 a.m. between ruin pubs, listening to top-quality opera, or dancing to throbbing techno music in chest-deep hot water, the city has something for everyone.