Budapest is more than a split.

Leaving Vienna on a morning train to Budapest, my travelling companion and I congratulate ourselves on our smooth on boarding and our mastery, finally, of the Eurail App that governs all our trips. It is a short trip to the capital of Hungary, and we are looking forward to seeing the countryside. The trip begins smoothly, however half an hour outside Vienna we are advised that there is an accident on the track which will delay our forward journey for perhaps an hour.

Subsequent advisories continue for several hours until about the time we are due to arrive in Budapest, we are advised that our train will be returning to Vienna and that we will be bused to a station past the blockage from where our journey will continue. We are glad there is a plan. On the ground, it all seems a bit fluid but trusting the process (and having no real choice) we duly return to Vienna.

Hundreds of displaced travelers now cue for busses which take some time to arrive and cause undignified scrums for seats whenever they appear. This is a take no prisoners situation and eventually having heaved our bags into the luggage hold of a bus, we are successful in making our way on board. There were moments when I could see our bags departing without us which did contribute to me demonstrating some most un old lady like behavior. Needs must!

The bus journey between Vienna and a Hungarian village an hour down the freeway, is an opportunity to see countryside. What is striking about said countryside are the huge numbers of wind towers covering it and the acreage devoted to solar farms. And discount shopping centres plonked in the middle of nowhere seemingly and complimented by enormous Ferris wheels and other fun park attractions. Capitalism with bells on.

Eventually we are retrained however the previous reserved seat ticketing arrangements no longer apply and in this aspect of the scrum, we dip out. It is a long journey standing up before we finally reach Budapest Keleti station. Having become a train station connoisseur during the course of my travels, I must admit that this particular station is underwhelming. It's been a long day already and this entrance into Budapest is doing little to reassure me that all will be well. It feels both abandoned and neglected.

The taxi rank is however signposted and having easily accessed it, and feeling that we are making progress, we are now advised that the cabs at the rank will only take cash, of which we have none. Fortunately, my travelling companion discovers forgotten euros, and we secure a ride having negotiated what seems a reasonable fee. We have no idea of course but trust this man who having taken us on board, proceeds to drive at breakneck speed down wide cavernous streets, enclosed by pastel coloured, dusty, dirty, sometimes derelict and generally enormous, buildings. The cab driver, perhaps to make up for his initial disinclination to take our fare, now gives us a guided tour of the city's tourist attractions. His pride is obvious, if a little contrived. Eventually having given us a cook's tour of the city including taking us to the wrong hotel, he deposits us safely.

The lobby of the hotel has the largest chandelier I have ever seen and smells of wealth and privilege.

Given the small segment of the city already seen, I feel a disconnect, however having an ongoing dialogue with myself about the meanings of both wealth and privilege in my life, at this moment, after this day, I have no arguments. Welcome to Budapest.