I’ve always been of two minds about goodbyes. On one hand, it is what it is, so you might as well move on. Spilled milk, and all. On the other hand, as you may have noticed, I’m a big proponent of commemorating/celebrating things. Firsts, lasts, name days, birthdays, Wednesdays, whatever. I’m especially fond of commemorating the end of eras, big and small. Progress just isn’t progress unless you throw a mean party for it. Or write a blog about it. Or have a good, long, pathetic cry over it. You know the type of cry I’m talking about? Where, once the movers are gone, you sit on the floor, hum a few lines of “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and just fling the floodgates wide open. Theoretically, I mean.
So that’s my stance on goodbyes. I’ve been going back and forth on the topic all month. Jet Plane Gate was over a week ago, and my emotional side still doesn’t want to let go of what we built in Budapest. The rational side says Get over it. You live in Munich now. There is a lot to see, learn, and do, so don’t waste your time wallowing. No one likes a wallower. (My rational side can be SO German sometimes.) Fine then. I’ll move on, and with minimal end-of-an-era commemoration. (I already got a bit weepy here anyway.)
Very simply, here are some of my favorite photos of Budapest itself. For more information about most of these sights, check out the introduction to Hungary/Budapest post.
The lead photo you see here may not look too exciting, but it was taken from a special place. Just hours before I left for Munich, I took one last walk around Roosevelt Ter and across the Chain Bridge, pausing at the center vantage point. I was immediately reminded of our very very first trip to Budapest (the one with the Tokaji wine, before the direct flight mentioned here, and pre-goulash). It had been essentially a reconassiance mission—in and out, just to see what accepting that job offer might really mean for us. My husband (then fiancée) and I walked to this spot on our first evening. From there, we could see Gresham Palace, the Parliament, and the Castle. Standing in the glow of it all, while the Danube rushed along below us, we looked at each other and said simply, “Yeah. We can live here.”
Standing there this time, I looked out at gray skies while the icy wind threated to blow me right off the bridge. The city was somber. It looked far less inviting than I had remembered, but I didn’t really care. I wasn’t judging this time. Bright or dull, warm or cold, I knew wholeheartedly that we had made the right decision on that first night. Budapest was for us a fantastic city, a memorable era.
Now, I’ve said goodbye, I’ve commemorated, and I am embracing our new life in Munich. Done. It is what it is, simple as that. But… Oh babe, I hate to go.
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This city has a way of getting under your skin. I’ve known a lot of people who’ve come and gone, and a few who’ve come back. No one ever really says goodbye to it.
Amy,
I hope that you continue to blog about Germany. Maybe someday you will be as fond of where you are now, as you were of Budapest. It is always hard to finish one chapter, but also rewarding to start another one. I felt the same way when I moved to Denver (I cried for a week after I arrived….yes, I realize it was only Denver, but still…). Take your time “mourning” Budapest, and eventually Germany will grow on you! Good luck, and I can’t wait to hear more!