footloose
that it has an automated yearlong
running track that tracks lap timings if
you wear a chip.
As I walked back on the promenade,
I saw shoes of all sizes laid haphazardly,
all pointing to the Danube- almost as if
its owners jumped into the river - only
there were no people. It was from this
point that members of the fascist Arrow
Cross Party in 1944 shot dead and threw
into the Danube several Jews. Quietly
reflecting, I looked up to see the Chain
bridge, and in an aha moment, realised
this was where Salman Khan professed
his undying love for Aishwarya, in Hum
Dil De Chuke Sanam. Extreme love and
extreme hate, juxtaposed on a single spot.
Magical Budapest.
At the crowded Szimpla Kert
bar, which is actually an old run down
house turned bar, where I was asked to
come, I was greeted by a loud egészségedre
(Hungarian for Cheers to your health
– careful, if mispronounced, it means
arse!) and a glass of beer was thrust in
my hands. As I raised to clink, one of the
fellows quietly pointed out that they do
not clink beer glasses in Hungary – This
is an important Hungarian tradition left
over from the 1848 Revolution against
the Austrians. Because the A \