Sobering day

Mosaic by Roth Miksa

The mosaic above seems like the best way to begin today’s post. While we ended our touristy stuff on a pleasant note, it began far more sombre and desperately sad. We went and visited the House of Terror, something that will probably stay with me for the rest of my life.

If anything shows the utter futility of war and conquest better than the House of Terror then I don’t need to see it. The simple fact that the Victors may write the history but they eventually become fodder for the next Victor is painfully clear and omnipresent as you move through this house which was an evil headquarters for both the Nazis and the Communists.

In 1944, during the gruesome domination of the Hungarian Arrow Cross Party, this building, known as the House of Loyalty, was the party headquarters of the Hungarian Nazis. Then between 1945 and 1956, the notorious communist terror organisations, the AVO and its successor, the AVH, took up residence here. 60 Andrassy Boulevard has become the house of terror and dread – from the Guide

From the cut out overhanging roof, it’s instantly obvious that this place is going to be a haunting reminder of bad days gone by. It’s interesting to note that from the air, the word ‘TERROR’ would read the right way round and pinpoint the corner where it all happened. It also reflects down on the top of the building whenever the sun shines through the letters.

Denunciation seems to be the word of the day as we wandered through the rooms, greeted by music and lights, the words of the survivors and stark reminders of the abuses suffered by them.

It is very difficult to put into words how I feel about the House of Terror though I do feel anyone who wasn’t around for World War II or the Communist takeover of Hungary, really, really should visit. I think of people today, like the so-called Islamic State, and I worry. If this museum teaches us anything it’s that we humans NEVER learn from our mistakes. We just keep on going, one atrocity performed after another. And we only believe what we’re told to believe, regardless of the truth.

Mum didn’t last for all of the top floor before feeling sick (memories of growing up in bomb dotted London upsetting her) so I led her back down to the cafe to wait for us. We managed the whole place which ends on a less than upbeat note with a wall showing the Hungarian ‘Victimizers’, some of whom are still alive. Helpfully, there are photographs.

It was good to see so many young people visiting, looking serious and saddened. And, if the point of a museum is to show visitors what the past felt like, then this place certainly achieves that.

The Iron Curtain Memorial outside the House of Terror

The memorial above commemorates the fact that the fall of the iron curtain began in Hungary and ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall.

But the day wasn’t all doom, gloom and inhumanity under the guise of political expediency…and just to prove it, here’s a man with very impressive whiskers.

This is Hapsburg Emperor Franz Joseph, husband of our favourite European royal: Empress Elizabeth or Sisi as we call her in her eponymous cult. This is a painting on glass by the amazing glass and mosaic artist Roth Miksa who lived and worked in 26 Nefelejcs utca from 1913 until 1944 when he died.

Known principally for his stained and painted glass, he was also a very dab hand at mosaic. Born in 1865 and influenced by the Pre-Raphaelites (among others that Mirinda really, really likes) Roth Miksa worked for years creating stained glass windows for churches throughout Hungary as more and more of them were restored to a former glory that may (or may not) have once existed.

We spent a relieved hour wandering the two floors of his house, admiring his furnishings and, most of all, examples of his work. This followed a rather large pasta lunch at the New York Cafe where we once more admired the many light holding sculptures of Mr Tumnus smiling dementedly down on the unsuspecting public. The reason behind his demented smile is easily explained in that he was married to Lilith and had a fling with the Angel of Prostitution…or so I’ve read.

Eventually we headed back to the apartment via a trolley bus! A first for us and jolly good fun…that maybe a bit of an exaggeration. It was, after all, just a bus with an electric top on it.

After a bit of a rest, which included Mirinda trying the Royal Spa, me reading and writing and mum resting her poor knees, Mirinda and I were told to go out and enjoy ourselves. So we did.

We found and had a drink in a Ruinpub, which is a truly amazing thing! We found Szimpla Kert, which was the first of them. They are a ruin that has been transformed into somewhere to drink, eat, meet or to do just about anything. They are really cool places covered with some incredibly original and organic art made from scraps of this, that and the other. They look remarkably post-apocalyptic. Though, apart from anything else, they are a terrific tonic after something like the House of Terror.

After having a drink we wandered out onto the street, eventually re-finding a Christmas market we’d spotted from the Hop-on Hop-off bus…

…then a place selling rectangles of very tasty pizza which we ate sitting on small rickety chairs at the beginning of Fashion Street which has the most amazing Christmas decorations.

It was then back to the apartment and a fast asleep mum and desperately needed toilet.