Hungary is a country that wakes up early and closes up early, as we discovered when an impatient waiter hurried us through one of our best meals in Pecs. It was 9 p.m. and we were the last diners left to enjoy the catfish swimming in a sweet paprika sauce, braised duck legs and shoestring potatoes (it would be an insult to call them French fries).
The next morning, in pursuit of a bus schedule to take us to Sopron in the north, we stumbled upon an indoor farmers market, which swelled during the noon hour with local diners and then emptied out for the shoppers. We took a culinary walk through the market, past vendors selling pickled cabbage, sausages and stuffed peppers. The market, which is open daily, is not a tourist destination, but it was one of our favorite places in town, and not just because we discovered the pleasure of large wads of pickled cabbage stuffed with hot peppers.
In Budapest, on the Pest side of the Danube, chefs cook up an outdoor feast of such Hungarian classics as goulash.
(Jackie Spinner -- The Washington Post)
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In one corner, a man in a thick flannel shirt peeled a crate of turnips, his hands moving quickly with the knife before he dunked the vegetables in a pail of brown water. Nearby, a toothless old woman with a knitted cap sat behind a gigantic blue bowl of stuffed cabbage, her white apron stained with the juices of her wares.
Armed with our tasty but smelly purchases, we boarded the bus to Sopron, a six-hour journey. Sopron is at the center of the western Transdanubia region that borders Austria and Slovenia. Its proximity to Austria meant that I could finally communicate with the locals by pulling out a bit of rusty high school German, which many of the shopkeepers speak so they can communicate with the tourists who invade the town in summer.
Hungary is not a country of English speakers, nor should it be. But if you intend to ask your innkeeper if the post office sells boxes so you can mail your Christmas packages home, be prepared to mime the box, then draw, flap your wings and say "U.S.A.," and be pointed in the right direction so you can repeat your theatrics at the crowded post office.
Sopron is considered one of the most historic cities in Hungary, with 115 monuments and 250 notable buildings, all listed on a registry and marked by signs in Hungarian. The focal point of the town is the Holy Trinity statue, erected in 1700 over the objections of Sopron's large Lutheran population, who took offense at Kollonich's threat: "First I will make the Hungarians slaves, then I will make them beggars, and then I will make them Catholics." He should have made them cooks.
The symbol of Sopron is the Firewatch Tower, built by the Romans in the 1st century. The front of the tower looks out on the town's market center, overpriced pottery shops, and pubs and restaurants geared mostly to the summer tourists. For the first time in our trip, we were hungry in Hungary, and so it was back to the big city of Budapest, where we stumbled on the Amstel River Cafe during our first night on the Pest side.
Hungary is just packed with potential -- delicious meals, historic sites, outdoor jaunts. On our last night in Budapest, as our forks clanked like fighting swords through a shared dish of creme brulee at the restaurant Baraka, I realized the flaw in our plan hatched at the Amstel River Cafe, to go easy on breakfast so we could eat more at lunch.
There is so much to Hungary -- so much history, so much of it untouched and so much to explore -- that it is difficult to moderate yourself. In many places, you feel as if you are the first foreigner to see it, an explorer on a continent that you thought had been discovered. One bite is simply not enough.
Washington Post staff writer Jackie Spinner is a frequent contributor to the Travel section.
