Windsprints on the Danube and into the Hills

Buda Hills

I moved from apartment to apartment often in Toronto, which meant there were always new neighbourhoods to discover. Running was the best way to get to know a new hood. Going out for a half hour meant you could run along the streets, explore little side alleys, and hidden corners of the area. When I was living in Cracktown I also discovered the sketchy courtyards of Regent’s Park – a great place to work on my windsprints.
I brought this habit to Budapest. Running along the Danube and seeing the sights, ducking into side streets in Pest or Buda. There is plenty to see. Looking for a challenge, I even tried running up Gellert Hill – a brutal, heart-hammering run with a view of the city at the end.
Being an impatient runner, I like to finish my runs in less than 45 minutes, so no races or half marathons or anything like that. I run, I see stuff, and I eat right away afterwards. But I couldn’t pass an invitation from two colleagues to join a trail running group. The group meets up in the hills and run 10km every Tuesday. I wasn’t even sure if I had ran that far before, but I joined.

I showed up in my usual running gear, which isn’t running gear: a black Cephalic Carnage hoodie and a pair of cross trainers. The rest of the runners wore sturdy trail running shoes. I was handed my headlamp and off we went.

I was hooked. My heavy metal hoodie became a common sight on the trails, showing up every couple of weeks (I was alternating between squash and trail running). It turned out my near-suicidal runs up Gellert prepared me for the rugged Buda Hills.

It’s just nice and pretty up there. You’re not dodging traffic, or Regent Park gangsters. You’re running through the trees breathing fresh air and seeing incredible views of the city. I kept up the trail running until neck problems (from other things) put me out of commission.

The running group with
the clueless metal hoodie-wearing foreigner in the middle.

Trail Running to Trail Walking

The first time I took to the hills for something other than a death-defying run was a picnic with Kata. We packed our food, packed our wine, even packed glasses, but didn’t bother checking the weather. When we reached our desired picnic spot, the storm clouds rolled in and the lightning flashed before we could set up.


Seeking shelter, we rode the Children’s Railway until the rain cleared up and got off at the end of the line. With the ground too soggy for picnicking we settled on a bench at a corner of a small intersection. We ate our soggy crackers and cheese, and drank our wine as cars and dogwalkers awkwardly passed us.

For those less inclined to running or walking up sharp inclines, Budapest’s transit authority runs a few unconventional modes of transportation up into the hills. Along with the Children’s Railway, there’s a chair lift. Mountain bikers without the vigor for the climb up can be seen ascending on the cog train. The transportation options defy conventionality, which is so common you might as well consider it conventional.

Running, walking, or getting stuck in a rainstorm, I have returned to the hills over and over again. Kata and I have hiked the trails and I’ve enjoyed a few BBQs at Normafa with fellow Canadian and head chef, Joe. 

It’s rare that in a major city, you can head for the hills in the early afternoon and be back in time for dinner and drinks in the evening. What’s rarer still is that in Budapest all of this wild nature is only a tram ride away. It’s a nature-loving quality that’s unique to Budapest and something I did not expect.


Chairlift yourself.

Another BBQ at Normafa.

Gellert Hill, the site of many humbling, stumbling runs.


Budapest’s Beautiful Perplexities


Budapest has an easy claim to being one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. But, for a Canadian boy like myself, its beauty is tempered with the little peculiarities that come with leaving in a faraway land.

Bread with f***ing stickers

The biggest that leaps to my mind is sticker on the bread. Yes, it tells you the date it was made, but it’s a sticker on my freakin’ bread.

Ugh, bread stickers.

Bus Drivers driving with two feet

When I discovered a quicker bus route to the office from my home, I quickly made it a daily habit. Unlike the subway, I can look out the window. The caveat? Almost every bus driver in Budapest drives with both feet. The bus jerks to a sudden stop at every streetlight. If you’re not holding on you end up bumping into fellow passengers who are more accustomed to the herky-jerky nuances of the Budapest bus ride.




ROADY BEERS!!!

For the most part, Budapest has no open container laws, meaning that you can have a beer in the park with friends or take a roady beer for a walk. This isn’t exclusively Hungarian, but it is nice to live in a place where people are trusted to be responsible with their alcohol consumption.




No dryers. Small fridges.

Electricity is more expensive here. So, people have adjusted accordingly. You get used to a small fridge that North Americans would scoff at and label a beer fridge. You end up buying only the groceries that you need. Dryers are few and fair between, meaning I’ve had to learn to iron. Ironing sucks.




People selling belts, iPhones, and onions

The first time I stepped into Szell Kalman I was kind of overwhelmed by the peddlers and their wares. I haven't made a purchase, but I know where to go for a belt or a set of ceramic knives in a pinch.


My first time in Szell Kalman ter