Metro Politics

The Hungarian election came and went this past weekend. Fidesz, the incumbent ruling party, bullied its ways into power with its supermajority intact. It won despite entering the election with, according to some estimates, a 25 per cent approval rating.

I’m not going to get too deep into Hungarian politics, mostly because I have tried and failed in eight blog drafts, which lay crumpled in my computer’s recycle bin. It’s tough for a non-Hungarian, unable to read the local news or watch evening news, I rely reports from foreign sources and scuttlebutt from Hungarian friends  – all of which are helpful, but not completely reliable on their own.

When I sat to write this draft, I thought about what I have seen myself and what I know for certain.

Since my arrival to Hungary, construction is everywhere. A large public square near my apartment has constantly been closed with maze-like fenced detours. Some workers look as if they are simply rearranging bricks on the sidewalks. Others working in a heavily-used pedestrian underpass are hidden from sight behind partitions and there was not a lot of work noises coming from behind that partition.

Then there is Budapest’s fourth subway line, which has been under construction for, depending on who you ask, ten to twenty years. It has been held up as an object of infrastructure mismanagement and outright graft. All the signs are there: workers leaning on shovels every time I pass by, opaque government contracts, and construction that never ends.

This has changed. Roads and public squares and pedestrian underpasses have been miraculously completed in the weeks leading up to last weekend’s vote, culminating in the opening of Budapest's fourth subway line.

There are problems, of course. It is a relatively short line, the stops are close together (like five-minute walk close together), and its opening on the weekend before the election has clearly timed to coincide with the election.

Despite all of that, the completed subway is impressive to behold. Its high ceilings mean you do not feel like you are underground. Its tiled mosaics, curious lighting features, exposed concrete beams and buttresses, outdoor water features are attractive, without feeling excessive.

The Budapest transit authority allowed riders on the shiny new subway for free on its inaugural weekend. The whole city it seemed came out to check out this once mythical fourth subway line, including myself and a few friends.

Is it a monument to mismanagement and graft? Possibly, and it would not be surprising. Was its recent opening a feckless political maneuver conveniently timed to grab votes? Of course! But, I think we can all agree that despite all of this, at least it is very easy on the eyes.

The trippy mosaic at Szent Gellért tér

The escalator from heaven at Rákóczy tér. 

You can skip stones at Rákóczy tér. Good? Bad? Fun! 

These guys agree, it's a metro with a lot of room to breathe

A few of the stations, like Fővám tér, have high ceilings with criss-crossing concrete beams.

Posters Of Hungary

The Hungarian National Museum

Last Saturday was the Ides of March, which is important if you are Julius Caesar, or if you are Hungarian. For the latter, March 15 is the anniversary of the Revolution of 1848. I wrote about that here so I will not get into the specifics, but to commemorate the occasion there are marches, speeches, and free admission for a few museums.

Despite living around the corner from the Hungarian National Museum, I have never visited it. I took advantage of the fact of the free admission and dropped in for a visit.

The museum's collection is dedicated to the general history of Hungary with archaeological relics and artifacts – a whole lot of goodies stretching from the Hungary's settlement by the Magyars in 895 to the fall of communism. 

Going through the museum is quite a treat. One thing did stand out in particular: they have an amazing collection of old advertising and propaganda posters from the pre-World War I days and onward into the 1920s.

Most of the labels were in Hungarian, so they are a little out of context for me, but I thought they were very interesting. Behold, my not-so-good museum photography skills:

Tungsram is an old, but huge Hungarian light bulb company.

Translation: 'West'

'The horror of modern war'
It's tough to see, I know, but those are people that
Skeletor is loading into the cannon

'Republic!'

'Scoundrels! Is this what you wanted?'

'Red soldiers advance'

Old timey cigarette advertising

Water... Step... Bankruptcy.... 

Hockey Night in Prague

Like so many Canadians of my generation, my first brush with European hockey was in hockey card sets in my younger years.

O-Pee-Chee had its special Red Army set, filled with long polysyllabic names and those cool CCCP jerseys. When the Berlin Wall came down, we were treated to more strange unpronounceable names in the card sets and on the hockey broadcasts – the French announcers on Radio Canada had real trouble with the Slavic names.

As the years went by, Swedes, Slovaks, Finns, and Czechs all became a part of the game in Canada. Everyone became accustomed to the names, even those tongue-tied French announcers. No matter what any facemask-hating hockey commentator might say, and no matter how long it took Noreth America to notice, there has been good hockey in Europe for decades.

That sentiment took Teak and I to seek hockey in Prague.

Lev Praha is one of the Russian Kontinental Hockey League’s recent expansion teams in Central Europe (Zagrab is another new one, Bratislava’s first season was last year). Watching Lev Praha play some good old hockey was going to be our original plan, but they were on a road trip into the vast wastes of Russia, and road trips in the KHL can last as long as a month because of the distances between franchises. We settled on watching Sparta Praha, a 113-year-old team in the Czech Extraliga, the Czech Republic’s national hockey league. Sparta is first in the league, and we bought tickets for a home game against the Pirates of Chomutov, the league’s last place team.

.

It was a blow-out, 9-0, but it was damn good hockey. Not as physical as we’re accustomed to in the North American game and its smaller rink. They move the puck fast and set up great plays, despite the big ice, plus there was almost a fight – on two occasions. Good hockey.

Back in Toronto – my apologies for comparing, but I can’t help it – if I wanted to catch a professional hockey game, like the Maple Leafs of Toronto, I would be shelling out $100 per ticket. If I wanted to drink a beer (and sometimes you need several watching the Leafs), that would be $12 a pop. I couldn't tell what a hot dog would cost and I'm afraid to find out.

A better Toronto option would be watching the Leafs’ minor league team, the Marlies, who consistently play good hockey. Cheap seats are about $15 a ticket. Beers, unless you’re sneaking in travelers, aren’t cheap though.

In Prague, we spent about $10 for good seats. We had little time between the game and our arrival in Prague to do anything more than check into the hotel and rush to the arena. This meant we ate eat at the arena, something I usually avoid. We managed to get a decent sausage with a slice of rye for $3. Then there were the beers: $2 a pop.

Sorry, Toronto.

What made the game special were the fans. This is a 113-year-old hockey club, so there is probably a lot of heritage. Sparta Praha’s following is incredibly enthusiastic. The standing booster section was at the end, with banners, flags and, thankfully, no vuvuzelas.

Everyone in the arena chanted, well, chants that everyone in the arena seemed to know and wore the team’s swag. Everyone save for the two foreigners – although Teak bought and wore a Sparta jersey. There was a real energy in the place. For every goal scored – and remember there were nine unanswered goals – the crowded erupted as if every one mattered as much as a sudden death overtime goal.

There were families with young children, young couples smooching between plays, drunken high schoolers double-fisting beers, and old guys who looked like they were around for the club’s first game – oh, and the two aforementioned foreigners.

After the final buzzer and the handshakes, the entire Sparta Praha team stayed on the ice for a while and saluted the fans, who were all on their feet and singing what I am guessing was the team song (my Czech isn’t so good).

I went from a casual hockey fan to a Sparta fan right there.

"Dobrý den venku! Jsme na vzduchu,
 Je to Hockey Night večer..."
--Stompin' Tom in Czech

A near fight,
which is as close to a fight you will get in European Hockey.

The team came out and sang a song, it could have been the Hockey Song

Teak looking like a real Czech hockey fan in his new jersey.