Part 5
Food and exploring the focus as our family train trip continues with a dash around the beautiful capital cities of Budapest and Vienna
After the heavy heat of Bucharest, the temperature feels much fresher in Budapest due to the earlier rain that has fallen. It’s mid-afternoon, the engineering works we encountered on the Hungarian border have eaten into our time, so we march the children along the busy Rákóczi Avenue that runs west towards the city centre and the magnificent Danube.
Nobody has had lunch, so we're keeping an eye out for a quick snack as there's no time for a proper meal yet, not until we've done some sightseeing. I spy a trusty pizza takeaway, where we bolt down a couple of slices. It's delicious, moreish pizza, and we greedily consider another slice ... no time though, and off we trot towards the river.
Food is only off the agenda temporarily, however, as a couple of minutes later we pass a chimney cake shop. Chimney cakes (Kürtöskalács) are a traditional Hungarian spit cake that has a spiral shape like a chimney and is coated in sugar, Crunchy on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside, it can be used as a cone for ice cream, chocolate and more.
The shop is baking hot, and all the outside seating is occupied. We order one filled with Nutella and one filled with cream, before sitting down inside to eat and sweat. Coming hot on the heels of the pizza, it's been a delicious and carb-fuelled half-hour.
Gorging over for now, we head for Erzsébet Bridge that connects Buda to Pest. We stroll across, stopping to soak up the scenery. Once in Buda, we climb the 235m Gellért Hill, passing Instagrammers dressed in slightly ridiculous outfits posing for selfies. The views are incredible though, and it's a great place to take photos of the city.
Walking down the Pest side to get a closer glimpse of the spectacular Hungarian Parliament, I conclude that a few hours is most definitely not long enough to see Budapest. Even if our train had been on time, an afternoon is much too short, so it's joined Bucharest on the list as one to return to soon. We settle for a view of the imposing parliament from across the river, we'll look inside next time.
Crossing the Széchenyi Chain Bridge back into Pest, the children are beginning to flag from non-stop walking, so we break for an early-evening drink and game of cards outside a restaurant that tries to tempt us to eat with bold stories of having the best Hungarian food in Hungary. Still digesting chimney cake, we resist their offer and set off for a final jaunt of the day to the Hungarian State Opera House.
A stunning neo-renaissance building with statues of Ferenc Erkel (composer of Hungarian national anthem and first music director of the opera house) and Franz Liszt either side of the entrance, it is thought acoustically as one of the finest opera houses in the world. It's beautiful and I wish we could go inside, but we're too late in the day for tours and we don't have tickets. Another reason to come back ...
The little people have had enough of walking and are protesting more noisily now, so we abandon any more sightseeing and turn our thoughts to dinner. We only have one night, we're booked on the train to Vienna after breakfast in the morning, so Hungarian food it is. We've found somewhere that looks to fit the bill, but it's a 20-minute walk and the look of horror on Saskia and Cressida's faces persuade us to get a cab! It's a lovely, warm evening and the restaurant is packed already. There's one outside table being vacated, so we grab it. It's high and wobbly, but the cold drinks taste great, the children are happily playing cards and it's lovely to sit down after hours of walking.
Advertised as traditional Hungarian, the menu does not corroborate this. The dishes are mostly schnitzel-based, so we go with that, the only vegetarian offering being fried cheese and chips! There's some token cabbage, cucumber and pepper, but that's it on the veggie front. Saskia happily accepts the fried cheese and chips, and everyone enjoys their meal among the buzz of locals chatting; some drinking, some eating.
Telling the children a white lie about how far it is back to the hotel, we walk back, managing to distract them with fun chat for most of the way, only being rumbled in the last ten minutes, but we were nearly back then anyway! They have earned their relaxation time on the train tomorrow.
Our 10:40 train to Wien Hauptbahnhof the following morning leaves at ... 10:40 exactly. Our table seat is perfect for playing games, and the card game Beggar My Neighbour provides lots of laughs. I book a hotel for the next two nights, carefully choosing one close to the station again as it's so much easier. There are no delays, and we arrive perfectly on time. Bhavin asks for the hotel's address and pops it into Google Maps. "Are you sure you've given me the right address?" he asks. "Umm, yes," I reply confidently. "Well, it's a 52-minute walk away," he says, handing me his phone. I stare at it. It is right by the station, I got that bit right, but it's right by Westbahnhof Station and we are at Hauptbahnhof Station. Oh.
The next train to Westbahnhof is in one minute and we are at the other end of the station, so we can write that one off then. It's a half-hour wait until the next one, so a taxi it is, and we head out of the station to be greeted by some unseasonably cool air. Shivering in our shorts and t-shirts (I am wearing flip flops), we are relieved to climb into our taxi. Bhavin speaks German, so chats to the driver in the front, who confirms that today is the coldest day of the summer so far.
We're a little early for checking in, and the unsmiling receptionist calls to find out if our room is ready. Frostily, she tells us we can go to our room, so we squeeze into the tiny lift. The room is basic, it's my least favourite place of the places we have stayed, but we swiftly dump our bags and head out. The jumpers we have been lugging about since flying to Dalyan 15 days ago are finally getting some use, and the girls are wearing their trainers that we bought in Istanbul. I am still wearing my flip flops as my sandals are broken and I didn't bring any other shoes.
There is one item on the agenda for this afternoon, we have been talking about it for days. Cake at Café Central, a regular haunt of Peter Altenberg, Leon Trotsky, Sigmund Freud, Adolf Hitler and Joesph Stalin among many others. Although it closed after World War II, it was completely refurbished and reopened in 1975. We make a beeline for it, stopping off en route to see the statue of Mozart at Burggarten, the Austrian National Library and Hofburg Palace.
Excitedly, we spot Cafe Central in the distance, we have been looking forward to this for days and finally it's time for some famous Viennese cake. There are a few people standing outside staring at the door, not going inside, which seems a little strange. We soon find out why. There is a sign on the door announcing the cafe is closed for essential maintenance work from August 29-31. Seriously? Today is August 30. Argh!! Four disappointed people stand forlornly on the doorstep.
Oh well, I say, we will have to add Vienna to our list of places to come back to. Now to find another cafe, Vienna is full of them after all. Off we go again, our trusty phone helping us to find the next yummy place, and we walk in, admiring the cakes. Ah, the woman behind the counter is apologetically telling us that they have no water and are closing for the day. Five minutes’ later, we anxiously peer through the door at Conditorei Sluka, wondering what our fate could be. All good, we finally hit the jackpot and are quickly seated with menus. Their website describes it as a 'coffee house for sophisticated customers'. In that case, I think we will fit in very well here.
It's coming to the end of the day and much of the cake has already been eaten. We order three portions of the house cake, which is chocolate, chocolate mousse and more chocolate, and a Punschkrapfen, plus two hot chocolates, a Fiaker (Mocca, cream and rum) and Mozart Kaffee (Mocca, cream and chocolate liqueur). The cake is divine; light, chocolatey, creamy ... What's more, the children can't finish theirs, so I get to.
Afterwards, we stroll the streets, taking our time to soak up the atmosphere, stopping in tourist tat shops to satisfy the children and a sweet shop to buy them an enormous lolly – because that’s exactly what children need after cake and hot chocolate of course.
Continuing the food theme, we remember we missed lunch. Aside from cake and lollies, no-one’s eaten much and everyone’s hungry, so we head to Gasthaus Reinthaler for some hearty Viennese cuisine. We immediately love the friendly, laidback atmosphere. Drinks poured, cards out, food ordered, we relax among the chattering locals. Bhavin and I start with a goulash soup, which is bursting with flavour and quickly devoured. Main courses are Wiener schnitzel, cordon bleu, frankfurters with sauerkraut and rosti potatoes, and veggie burgers for Saskia. Yummy!
Having pounded the streets in the past couple of days, first whizzing around Budapest and now Vienna in our bid to see as much as possible, we decide to give the children a treat the following day before we set off on the next sleeper for Brussels. "Where are we going?" we're asked as we set off. "Somewhere fun," we reply. That doesn't cut it, and I also didn't realise how far it was to walk there. They are trying to guess and complain at the same time. "I bet you're taking us to a museum," says one. "No, I think they're just saying it to get us to walk miles again," says the other.
Just as they're about to plant themselves on the street in protest, we arrive at the entrance. Both girls squeal with joy. We've arrived at Prater, a very large amusement park, one of the oldest in the world. It's huge, there are rides everywhere, so much to choose from.
As somebody for whom a log flume is more than enough excitement, this place holds no appeal, but I watch as the other three fearlessly climb on and off Volare, Dizzy Mouse, Tornado, Wild Mouse, culminating in the Prater Tower, a flying swing ride that takes you to ... 117m. Gulp. I felt dizzy and panicky from the ground, unable to even look up. The girls loved it.
We've barely scratched the surface of either Budapest or Vienna. We knew our flying city visits would be too short, and we are leaving Austria's capital with similar feelings to how we left Istanbul, Bucharest and Budapest: we need to come back. Time to prepare for the last-leg sleeper to Brussels and the Eurostar to the UK. We're not looking forward to tonight's journey, but that's another story ...