Below Vácz (Waitzen) the river flows between St. Andreas island on the
right and the low land on the left, with no special features to take
the eye or hold the interest until Budapest itself comes in sight.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Throughout Hungary the visitor is struck by the duality of
nomenclature in places, streets, etc., (the Donau becomes the Duna
in Magyar) and it has seemed best to avoid any confusion as much as
possible, by giving first the national name of a place and then in
parenthesis the Germanized name imposed since the period of Austrian
domination.
CHAPTER IX
THE HUNGARIAN CAPITAL
“Buda and Pesth,
Where Hope soared high or dwindled in despair
As Cross and Crescent alternating flew,
An ancient race has quickened with new life.”
_From the Magyar_
The immediate approach to Budapest by river is distinctly and
remarkably impressive. Ahead on the right are seen the heights of the
Gellert Hill and of the nearer one on which the royal palace stands,
while as we pass under the Margaret Bridge we get a striking view of
what is surely one of the most beautiful groups of Parliament buildings
in the world. Coming down-stream to Vienna it is only after we have
got a certain degree of intimacy with it that we begin to do justice
to its fascination. Budapest captures from the outset. Nor are first
impressions of delight diminished on fuller acquaintance--for the place
grows on us.
And apart from all other natural and civic beauties, those portions of
the city along the Danube banks by themselves offer the most varied
attractions. We may sit outside an hotel in the morning and see the
wonderful effect of light and shade on the splendid royal palace,
rising above terraced gardens on the hill on the further side of the
river, on the massy Gellert Hill (or Blocksberg) to the left, and over
the many buildings at the foot of the Castle Hill, while away to the
right rises the beautiful spire of St. Matthias’ church. We may wander
along the quayside and inspect closely the long barges with their tiny
houses, their high-perched steersman’s shelter, their little “gardens”
of flowers; we may see the long roofed-in barges with high, curved,
carven prows, that look like the foreparts of some ancient galleys;
we may watch a throng of busy men, half naked and a rich brown with
exposure, bringing up great measures of grain from the barges to be
put in sacks, weighed, and loaded on wagons on the quayside; we may
idly scan the incessant little paddle steamers fussing to and fro with
passengers who prefer this method of crossing the river to making use
of one of the various handsome bridges that span the Danube.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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