If I’m ever reincarnated as a person less wrapped up in books and more bent on commerce, I’d happily return, after a day’s pen-pushing, to one of District II’s neoclassical mansions. As it is, I just have to waft precariously past them as I’m hoiked up Janoshegy on a chairlift.
As a UKer more familiar with spending weekends going “up town” (despite being far away, I’m always keen to perserve the linguistic anomalies of Hullish), down the pub and perhaps for a quick redemptive sortie around the local park, I’m dead keen on Euro-style leisure habits. Weekends are much more wholesome here, some shops close after lunch on a Saturday and many head for the hills for outdoor pursuits. Though in downtown Pest its just a bit parky, at the top of the hill there were four inches of snow and Budapestis togged up in ski suits jogging, kids toting wooden sledges and (as it was Valentine’s Day) a fair few bashful teenage couples grabbing at oneanother’s be-mittened hands.