Tag Archives: hungary

Almost thirty years have passed since our last meeting

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Pasaret is a suburb of Budapest on the left – Buda – bank of the Danube River. In September 2026, my wife and I revisited this leafy area for two reasons, one of which I will recount below. I will write about the other in a future essay.

In September 1974, a conference, The Nafplion Colloquium on Research Programmes in Physics and Economics, was held in Napflion, Greece. My father, an economist, was one of the organisers and participants of this conference that celebrated the works of the Hungarian philosopher Imre Lakatos (1922 – February 1974; see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imre_Lakatos ). My mother, my sibling, and I were invited to join the delegates and their partners at the event. Imre’s recently widowed partner, Gillian, was present, as were his friend the historian of mathematics and philosopher Arpad Szabo (1913-2001) and his wife Klari, who lived in Budapest. Although much older than me, I enjoyed their company during the two weeks we spent together in Napflion.

In the early 1980s, I was about to make my second visit to Budapest. Before I went, I contacted Gillian, who had visited Hungary several times and gave me some contacts in the city, including those of Arpad and Klari. After arriving in Budapest, I got in touch with the Szabos, and they invited me for dinner at their flat in the Pasaret district of the city. We got on very well, and each time I visited Budapest, I used to visit them and enjoy their generous hospitality. They spoke superb English, and Klari was an excellent cook.

In 1985, when I was living in Gillingham, Kent, Klari sent me a letter. In it she wrote that she was teaching two young men, teenagers, English. Back then, Hungarians were able to travel outside to Soviet bloc but were only allowed to carry with them an extremely small amount of ‘hard currency’ – about 200 US dollars every five years, if I recall correctly. In view of this and the high cost of living in the UK, she wondered whether I would be able to accommodate the two lads at my home for a month. Although I did not know them from Adam – so to speak – I agreed because I trusted Klari’s judgement. It was quite a risk agreeing to host two people, whom I knew nothing about, but I am glad I did. A and K turned out to be delightful, appreciative guests.

After their stay, I used to visit them in Budapest, usually staying with A’s family and later in his own apartment. A has remained in Hungary, and K is now successfully established in the USA.

Between 1997 and 2026, we did not visit Budapest. I kept in touch with A and K, but lost contact with the Szabos in Pasaret.

In September 2026, we decided to visit the Pasaret district to view something of architectural interest, which I will write about in the near future. As our local bus sped along Pasareti Utca – the main thoroughfare that runs through Pasaret, we passed a house that looked familiar. It reminded me of the house where the Szabos lived, but I was not suren if it was that one. After seeing the architecture we had come to view, I rang our friend A to see if he remembered the Szabo’s address, which was where, many years earlier, he used to attend the private English tuition given by Klari. He supplied the address, and we walked there.

The house, which now bears a plaque commemorating Arpad Szabo, is a small apartment block surrounded by a garden. Two women were standing in it. We mentioned Klari, and one of them, who spoke English, pointed at the correct entrance, telling us that Klari, who was now 104 years old, lived there. I was delighted to discover that she was still alive.

We rang the doorbell several times, but there was no reply. An elderly lady, who lives in the flat below that of Klari, invited us into her flat. She only spoke Hungarian, but was keen to meet us. A retired violinist, we could not get her to understand that we would like to have Klari’s telephone number. We left, happy to know that Klari is still living, but sad not to have met her.

The following day, A came into Budapest to collect us in his car to have lunch with his family in the hills outside Buda. When we told him about our abortive attempt to meet his old teacher Klari, he suggested we drove there, and tried the bell again. This time, we were successful. One of Klari’s daughters let us in, and there in her immaculate flat whose walls are lined with shelves filled with books, stood Klari, looking much as she had sone when we last met her almost 30 years ago. She invited the three of us into a small room, which A remembered as being the one in which his English tuition used to take place.

Klari, who is about to celebrate her 104th birthday, is a little frail, but her memory and mind are in an excellent state. She recalled all kinds of small details about me, my parents, other people who had been at Napflion, and my wife, who visited her in 1997. It was a wonderful meeting – One which I had thought would have had the tiniest chance of occurring.

While we were chatting, one of her daughters mentioned that only the evening before, they had been talking about us. Our unannounced, spontaneous visit must have seemed unbelievable. One thing they recalled about our last visit made when our child still wore nappies – diapers – was that my wife changed her in front of the Szabos on their living room floor. Clearly, this had made a great impression on them at the time.

We spent 6 days in Budapest this September, and each one of them was highly enjoyable. Our best experience, which was one we were least expecting, was finding Klari again and spending time with her and her daughters.

Did you know about chimney cakes?

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Until my most recent visit to Budspest, I was unaware of the existence of Kürtőskalács – chimney cake. Somehow, it escaped my notice on numerous earlier visits to Hungary. Yet, chimney cakes have been made since at least as early as the fifteenth century.

Chimney cakes being cooked

Strips of dough are wrapped around a metal cylinder to form a helix. The dough on the cylinder is baked on a rotating spit above a source of heat – traditionally glowing charcoal. It is basted as it iscooked, and then often dipped in sugar or other tasty particles that adhere to its surface.

When baked, the hollow cylindrical cake is removed from the cylinder, and is ready for eating.

Americans and Soviet Russians standing side by side in Budapest

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Szabadság tér – Liberty Square – is close to Budapest’s Parliament building. At one end of this piazza, there is a tall monument surmounted by the 5-pointed star of Communism. The monument also bears a hammer and sickle, as well as bas-reliefs depicting Red Army troops liberating Budapest from the Germans at the end of WW2.

On both sides of the Soviet war memorial, which stands close to the US embassy, there are statues.

One statue depicts President Ronald Reagan, and the other President George W Bush. Both presidents were in power during the period when the Soviet Bloc and the Soviet Union were disintegrating.

Although the Russians were not loved by the Hungarians whom they ruled, it is good to see that the memorial to their soldiers, who sacrificed their lives to free Hungary from Nazi domination, has been maintainedand kept in good condition.

Shoes of shame along the Danube in Budapest

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Crowds of tourists gather along a short stretch of the Pest bank of the Danube near to the Parliament building and the famous Chain Bridge – Lanchìd in Hungarian. They are attracted to this spot by the presence of a line of different kinds of lifesize footwear made of iron. These items are very close to the edge of the bank, inches away from the steep drop down to the water.

The models of footwear commemorate a dreadful tragedy. In the last year of WW2, Hungary was taken over by the Nazi Germans, and the Hungarian fascist militia, the Arrow Cross, wreaked a reign of terror on the population. 23500 people, of whom 20,000 were Jewish, were taken to the Danube, and shot at the water’s edge, their bodies tumbled into the river.

Before they were shot, the victims had to remove their footwear because shoes etc had become scarce in Hungary. The footwear of those who were massacred was stolen and then sold by the militia. The iron footwear along the Danube is a powerfully moving monument to those who were massacred at this spot. It was created in 2005 by sculptor Gyula Pauer.

The monument has become a major tourist attraction. It attracts ‘selfie’ takers and is not treated with the respect that such a memorial deserves. Although I spotted some of the shoes and boots had flowers and candles placed beside them, many of the others were filled with rubble, and even worse, with empty soft drink cans. When I saw the footwear and thought of the horrific events that took place along the riverbank, I shuddered. And I wondered how many of the camera and ‘phone toting visitors understood that the models of footwear were not merely yet another tourist attraction, but markers recording the potential of man’s ability to treat their fellow beings in such an inhuman way.

A synagogue in Budapest then and now

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The Dohány Street Synagogue in central Budapest is now a major tourist attraction, visited by swarms of visitors. It is the largest surviving synagogue in Europe. Highly restored and well-maintained, it is a glorious site, but also a memorial to the awful fate of Hungarian Jewish people in the last year’s of WW2.

The first time I visited this place of worship was in the early 1980s, when Hungary was still part of the Soviet bloc, under control of the Russians. Unlike today, 2026, then there was no queue of tourists waiting to see the building.

To enter it back on the early 1980s, one simply went to the watchman and asked permission see the interior.

On the afternoon when I went there, I was not the only person in the watchman’s small office. There was a German and an two Americans – a couple.

The watchman asked us where we were from. The German answered first, and the caretaker said:

“Come back this evening when the service is being held”.

The German left, and the man turned to us. When he heard that we were not German but British and American, he admitted us to the interior of the great synagogue.

The place was not in a good condition. It looked as if it was falling to pieces and needed a great deal if care and attention.

The three of us looked around the ill-lit synagogue without saying anything. Then, as we walked towards its exit, the American said in all seriousness:

“Back home, the Fire Department would not approve of this place. It contravenes all fire regulations.”

And that is all he could say about a building whose existence is a reminder of a community that was all but wiped out a few years before we visited the synagogue.

It always amazes me how differently people see the same thing. For me, the synagogue was a moving experience; for the American it was poor example of health and safety; and for todayourists, it is yet another ‘must see’ item to tick off one’s Budapest ‘bucket list’.

An elegant Polish club in London’s South Kensington

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Recently. I had lunch with some friends at an elegant Polish club in London’s South Kensington.

Immediately opposite the Imperial College Business School, one of the terraced houses on Exhibition Road (number 55) is the home of Ognisko, the Polish Hearth Club. The word ‘ogniszko., which means ‘hearth’, is related to the Latin word ‘ignis’ and the Sanskrit word ‘agni’, and both mean ‘fire’.

The building can be recognised by the plaque affixed to it, which commemorates the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. Contained in a house constructed in about 1870, the club was founded in 1939. Its website, www.ogniskopolskie.org.uk , explained that the organisation is:

“… a Members’ Club and an important part of Polish Social and Cultural life in London … Founded with the combined initiative of the British and Polish Governments, it was inaugurated by HRH The Duke of Kent in 1940 … It became the hub of Polish social and cultural life, with a good restaurant, meeting rooms, a theatre and a ballroom. It was supported by Officers, along with their families and friends together with a prospering theatrical and literary community. Leading figures in Polish cultural society, along with senior Military figures were frequently to be seen in the Club. After the War it continued to meet the needs of the Polish community, their friends and supporters, as it still does today…”

As for its early history, the website related:

“In order to have a centre where the Free Poles would feel at home a house was rented for £300 p.a. in December 1939 from Sir Frank Newnes who held the leasehold on 55 Prince’s Gate. The Polish House was in effect the intellectual hub for Poles arriving in London whether as civilians, enlisted, diplomats or politicians.”

In 1978, the Club bought the freehold of its home from the University of London. The restaurant, which I have visited several times, serves Polish food in an elegant dining room. We ate our lunch on a covered, air-conditioned terrace, part of the garden behind the clubhouse. The club provides an enjoyable Polish ‘fine dining’ experience. However, although the food is good, it is much better at the less pretentious Café Maja, part of POSK (the Polish Cultural Centre) in Hammersmith.

At the entrance, there is a bust of the composer Chopin. Near it, on the walls of the lobby, there are paintings and photographs.  And in the basement, there are several beautiful old framed posters, each one advertising a tourist destination in Poland.

If you want to experience the elegance of pre-WW2 Poland, a visit to Ognisko will not disappoint.

An unusual novel by an author from Hungary

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“WAR AND WAR” is a novel by the Hungarian writer Laszlo Krasznahorkai (born 1954). It was first published in 1999. It is one of the most unusual books I  have read. Not only is the subject matter often almost incomprehensible but also the style is peculiar.

The novel consists of many sections that vary in length from a few lines to several pages. Each section, apart from at the very end of the book, is one long sentence divided up into sub-sentences usually by commas, but sometimes by semi-colons.  At first, I found it difficult to read, but after a few pages, the unusual punctuation and the immensely long sentences ceased to bother me. The text flows along in a very readable way.

Essentially, the novel concerns a provincial librarian who has discovered a mysterious manuscript in the archives of a small town in Hungary. The contents of this document are often esoteric and obscure. Yet, the librarian feels that it is of such great importance that it should be made available to the world  and preserved for prosperity. To do this, the librarian leaves Hungary, and travels to New York City, where he buys a computer and transcribed the words of the document onto a website he has paid for.

So far so good. Things are not so simple as I have described. The novel describes the weird and often apparently meaningless contents of the documents and the effect that they have on the librarian and people he encounters in New York.

At times, I  found it almost impossible to follow the story. However, it has been written in such a clever way that one needs to continue reading because of the desire to know how the story will end, even if on the way there is difficult literary terrain to traverse.

If you decide to read this novel, you will need to be both patient and persistent. It is worth the effort.

Exploring some unknowns in London’s fashionable Mayfair

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I HAVE NO IDEA how many commercial art galleries there are in Central London. Today (the 14th of May 2024), we visited an art gallery, whose existence was previously unknown to us, and there we saw an exhibition of works by an artist, who was also new to us. The gallery is Carl Kostyal in Savile Row. Its discreet entrance is sandwiched between two fashionable tailors’ stores. Half Hungarian and half Swedish, Carl Kostyál opened his gallery in Savile Row in 2010. Three years later, he opened another gallery in Stockholm.

The artist, whose work is being exhibited, is Leo Park, who was born in Sweden in 1980. His exhibition in Savile Row is called “Beyond Pleasure”. It consists mostly of large paintings, but also a wall covered with a mosaic of small sketches, The beautifully executed artworks are eye-catching, and reminded me a little of the works of some of the pre-WW2 Surrealists. The paintings and sketches are of imagined forms that immediately made me think of human bodies. The images are clearly meant to evoke such thoughts, but looked at objectively, they are all shapes that do not exist in nature. The paintings and drawings are all displayed in the beautifully restored rooms of the 18th century building that houses the gallery.

The show ends on the 2nd of June 2024, and is well worth visiting.

A socialist and a vegetarian by the seashore on the Isle of Wight

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A DISTINCTIVE BUILDING stands opposite the Art Deco Winter Garden (built by 1936) high above the seashore of Ventnor on the south side of the Isle of Wight. With a tower overlooking the sea, the edifice facing the Art Deco structure was which was built in 1846 by the Reverend Richard John Shutte (1800-1860), who had once been a canon at St Paul’s Cathedral. It was named St Augustine Villa (see photograph below), and now houses a hotel and restaurant.

Several Russians opposed to the Imperial Romanov regime, including the writer Ivan Turgenev(1818-1883) visited Ventnor during the 19th century. Amongst these was Alexander Herzen (1812-1870), who was the ‘father’ of Russian Socialism’. In 1852, he and his family began living in England for several years. During this sojourn, he made some visits to the Isle of Wight. In September 1855, Herzen stayed in Augustine Villa, which he had rented. However, he was not alone as the commemorative plaque on the Villa notes. He stayed there with Malwida von Meysenbug (1816-1903).

Now, I had already heard of Herzen. I became familiar with his name when watching a trilogy of plays by Tom Stoppard about 19th century Russian Socialism. However, I had never come across Malwida von Meysenbug until I saw that plaque in Ventnor. A writer, she was born in Kassel (Germany) and was a friend of both Friedrich Nietzsche and Richard Wagner.  By the time that Herzen and Malwida had their holiday in Augustine Villa, she was living with Herzen’s family and helping to look after his children. Alexander’s wife Natalia had died in 1852, and he had hired Malwida to educate his children.

Malwida was much more than a mere governess as the UCL academic Sarah J Young explained in her excellent, highly informative article (http://sarahjyoung.com/site/2011/11/10/in-herzens-footsteps-a-visit-to-ventnor/). In this essay, Dr Young gives excerpts from Malwida’s published “Memoirs”. The following is particularly interesting:

“We spent happy days in beautiful Ventnor. In the evenings we were usually with the Pulszkys, who were spending the summer there. Therese’s mother, an educated and intelligent Viennese lady, had come to visit them, and this made for many a pleasant hour with her keen humor and wit. The Kossuths were also there, and he was much more pleasant in a more intimate setting than he had been at the formal gatherings in London. At the time, our thoughts were preoccupied by the war Russia had started with Turkey. Herzen, more so than the others, was very excited. He prophesied the Russian defeat and wished for it, since he believed it would lead to the downfall of autocracy.”

The Kossuths, were members of the family of the Hungarian revolutionary Louis Kossuth, whom Herzen was extremely excited to have met during his stay in Ventnor. Another exiled Hungarian revolutionary, Ferenc Pulszky (1814-1897) was also staying with his family in Ventnor at the same time as the Herzens and the Kossuths. Pulsky’s wife, Theresa, and Malwida spent time drawing together in Ventnor, and made several competent sketches of Ventnor and its surroundings,

Dr Young also quoted Herzen, who noted in his diaries that Malwida:

“… spent all her time in the water …”

From what Dr Young and others have discovered during their research, Malwida was out of the sea long enough to create works of art depicting the seaside resort.

Herzen liked Ventnor but had some reservations as he wrote in a letter (quoted from Dr Young’s article):

“For three days the weather has been like June – and I’m bathing recklessly in the sea. But before that there were four days of storms, rain and bitter cold … If it were not so boring, I would live here, but there are no resources at all. And getting to Ryde is expensive … “

Many years have passed since Herzen and Von Meysenbug holidayed in Ventnor. Slightly less time has elapsed since the future Mahatma Gandhi visited Ventnor in 1890 and 1891. According to one source (www.bonchurchvillage.co.uk/post/bonchurch-gandhi), Gandhi:

“… had wanted to study medicine but his father had objected, and his studies were in law.   He was a prominent member of the London Vegetarian Society, and that may have led to his staying at Shelton’s Vegetarian Hotel at 25 Madeira Road in Ventnor, in January 1890 and again in May 1891, on the second occasion addressing a Vegetarian meeting in Ventnor.”

In his autobiography, Gandhi wrote of the following experience in Ventnor:

“My cowardice was on a par with my reserve. It was customary in families like the one in which I was staying at Ventnor for the daughter of the landlady to take out guests for a walk. My landlady’s daughter took me one day to the lovely hills round Ventnor. I was no slow walker, but my companion walked even faster, dragging me after her and chattering away all the while. I responded to her chatter sometimes with a whispered ‘yes’ or ‘no’, or at the most ‘yes, how beautiful!’ She was flying like a bird whilst I was wondering when I should get back home. We thus reached the top of a hill. How to get down again was the question. In spite of her high-heeled boots this sprightly young lady of twenty-five darted down the hill like an arrow. I was shamefacedly struggling to get down. She stood at the foot smiling and cheering me and offering to come and drag me. How could I be so chicken hearted? With the greatest difficulty, and crawling at intervals, I somehow managed to scramble to the bottom. She loudly laughed ‘bravo’ and shamed me all the more, as well she might.”

I do not think that Gandhi made any other visits to Ventnor or elsewhere on the Isle of Wight.

Today, Ventnor is still delightful and although much has been modernised since the Victorian era, it still retains an almost unspoilt old-world charm. I fancy that were it possible for Herzen and Malwida and their revolutionary friends to return today, they would find much in Ventnor that they would easily recognise.

Seeing the plaque on Augustine Villa made me curious about Herzen’s stay in Ventnor and the identity of Malwida von Meysenbug. By reading up about it, I learned of other noteworthy visitors to the town, and as I did so my interest in Ventnor has increased considerably.

PS: a list of some more of the famous visitors to Ventnor can be found at /www.ventnortowncouncil.gov.uk/about-ventnor/famous-residents/