At a casual glance, Budapest seems like the archetypical big city – highways, graffiti, a mix of old and new buildings all of which seemed in need of maintenance. Trucks and busses competed with cars for space on the too-narrow city streets. Public transit cut its swath through the middle of everything.
Slowly, however, I began to see an oddity. Beneath the city dirt, the older buildings showed their beautiful construction. They were testaments to artistry and craftsmanship. It was the newer buildings, the modern, sterile, unadorned and uninspired monoliths that were dilapidated and falling apart.
The reason for this soon became clear. Casual conversation with everyone I met quickly turned to the same discussion: distain for all things from the communist era. It was almost as if the people there were waiting for an opening to loose a little venom at their former communist overlords.
As it turned out, based on chats with cabbys, guides, and local vendors, the buildings constructed under communism were so shoddy that most were unsafe to inhabit, but no one wanted to waste any money tearing them down. The locals seemed to take a perverse pleasure in watching them fall apart.
A few contemporary structures are starting to dot the landscape as businesses rediscover Hungary, and the economy revitalizes.