Nearing the end of our short backpacking trip, we were absolutely exhausted from constantly hopping one country to the next every other day. While I only heard amazing things about Budapest, I was a little apprehensive. The train ticket from Krakow, Poland to Budapest, Hungary was the most expensive and I was terribly afraid it wouldn’t be worth it. What is Budapest known for anyways? All I knew entering Hungary was that I needed to check out a couple of bridges, take a hot bath, and visit a ruin pub. What I left with was a new sense of self and a regained appreciation for the small things in the world that make this beautiful planet just a little bit brighter and more wonderful.

We arrived after a long night in a very hot train, and I was in no mood to be walking around. But, such is not the life style of a broke backpacker. So, with all the energy I could muster, I trudged along trying to figure out the metro system and find our AirBnB. It was hot. I was tired. I had barely any money. Because Krakow, Poland was so incredibly cheap, I didn’t think I’d need much money in the following Eastern European countries. I was incorrect in that assumption. Krakow was as cheap as it got for us, which left me feeling wary about buying anything in Budapest. In an effort to save money, we barely took public transportation, only did free things like tours by foot, and free-loaded out of our AirBnB’s place (which was stocked with only cereal). After visiting all of the touristy buildings, I really felt at a loss. Budapest was beautiful and amazing and so full of history and culture, but I was just so tired. Hungary was our seventh country, and the trip was starting to feel like a history lesson on steroids. I think somewhere in the sleepless nights and long days on foot, I forgot the real reason why I was wandering around Europe: to just experience everything, not to squeeze every little thing our guide books told us to visit. I suppose it has something to do with my personality. I’m borderline Type A. I’m a fan of general order, schedules, and efficiency. I like things to happen the way I perceived or planned them to, but it usually leads me to over-planning and overwhelming myself.

The sun was about to set, and it had been a long day. After a short 20 minutes nap somewhere on the Pest side of the city, we decided that we should probably head back to the AirBnB to get ready to go to a hot bath. I remember thinking hard about which hot bath we should visit, how we would get there with little money (since we still needed to pay for entry), and what time we could make it back to meet up with some friends. While walking back to the Buda side of things, I slowed down a little bit to take in the view from the Chain Bridge and for once I stopped in my tracks. All my concerns had disappeared and all I could think was that the sunset was insanely gorgeous. The sky had hints of pink and orange and it complimented the teal waters of the Danube so well. I had to stop and take a breath because I realized that nothing on this earthly planet mattered in that moment. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t decide on a hot bath to visit or that my feet had blisters or that I was running low on money. It didn’t matter how sucky I felt because nothing could ever take away from just how absolutely gorgeous the sunset was from the bridge. And suddenly I was laughing with my roommate because how could we ever complain about our travels, whether it be the people, the transportation, or each other, when the most amazing things are free, unadulterated, and just so mind-blowingly stunning. It reminded me of that quote by Jo Walton:

There’s a sunrise and sunset every single day, and they’re absolutely free. Don’t miss so many of them.

And then I was a bit sad, because no matter how many pictures I took or how long I gazed at the sunset, any memory of it would pale in comparison to how it looked that day. But, then I realized that that’s not the important thing. Our memories will always be skewed to the way we perceived them and it’s important to perceive things with our feelings and emotions rather than what we actually see. Looking at my photos of that day, I could see how any other person would only cast a quick glance at them and see them as just another sunset, but for me there’s a lot of feelings in those pictures. It’s a reminder that the best things aren’t things. They’re fleeting thoughts and emotions, unique and individual, that softly remind us to look up more often: to think less and to feel more. 

Thanks for reading!

Cheers