Arriving by train in Hungary, I was immediately struck by the city’s beauty—old, regal, and layered with the deep influences of Eastern Europe. When the Muslims ruled here, they built extraordinary thermal spas, and they are every bit as incredible as you’ve heard. Then came World War II and nearly fifty years of Russian occupation—and yes, it shows. Elegant architecture from a lost era stands shoulder to shoulder with stark Soviet blocks. The contrast is impossible to ignore.

One night, to my absolute delight, I attended a five-string quartet concert in an old church. It’s a moment I’ll never forget—the music, the space, the way it brought tears to my eyes. That night sealed my love for this stunning city.

Oh—and the tarragon soup. Hands down the best soup I’ve ever had.