Budapest

As all of my friends and family know, I love Christmas.

In fact, to say I love it is an understatement. Every year I throw myself into the festivities until I resemble a mince pie eating, carol singing, mulled wine glugging, deranged vision of The Ghost of Christmas Present, bulging waistline included.

So to me, a city of Christmas markets is heaven. That’s why, my trip to Budapest earlier this week was nothing more than a dream

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The journey from the airport was, as most journeys from the airport are, a gross misrepresentation of the city that awaited us. When we emerged from the metro station, the pebble dashed sky was still hanging low, however the Eastern European faceless buildings were replaced with a patchwork of different architectural styles, from gothic to art deco.

Throughout the trip I was acutely aware of the beauty that shouldered the Christmas markets and rose up against the few remnants of the Communist era, however, one thing was stopping me from completely appreciating it: the cold.

Budapest was cold in a way that was untouchable, even by a cup of mulled wine. The air was damp and sometimes the sky spat dagger-like shards of rain. It was the kind of weather that sent you heading to the nearest thermal bath (although we never got the chance to try them out!) or cafe, which isn’t a bad thing, as it turned out the food was pretty delicious.

Now let’s get started with the sweet delicacies, because there were many. On our last day, after power shopping our way through the Grand Central Market we spotted some fried, doughnut like beauties topped with every sweet (and savoury) delight you could imagine. We went for a sweet langos with walnut and caramel: delicious does not do it justice.

Hungary is probably most famous for its paprika, a spice that gives goulash its warming, earthy character. Now, I’m almost embarrassed to say I didn’t sample any goulash whilst in Budapest, I mean, surely it’s a national crime? I did dip a chip in Hannah’s though…dipping a chip counts doesn’t it? Let’s all agree that it does.

Now to the Christmas Markets, and the smell of mulled wine, sausages and ham. The markets were a gold mine for presents, and gingerbread (although we did learn the hard way that some decorated gingerbread is more edible than others). It was also a wonderful source of Kurtoskalacs – the delicious sweet pastry things that stole my heart in Prague under the equally confusing name of Trdelnik.

I only wish I could say that the bitter cold made itself useful and produced some snow. Unfortunately however, the sky remained an impenetrable grey. Nevertheless, Budapest offered a miraculous remedy to the cold: Christmas. With friends, mulled wine and delicious doughnut things, how can a girl feel any more Christmassy, and content?