Budapest is...

Budapest is zero degrees Celsius on a weekend jaunt with your flatmates. A place where thank you sounds like "curse-a-gnome" and kilted Scottish lads hide in caves to scare the b'jesus out of you as you enter unsuspectingly. Caves under the palace feature some random art work dedicated to 'Homo-consumus'. Christmas markets sell mittens with burrs still in the wool and street vendors say "sorry" to horrified vegetarians who spot a full pig skin with ears and hooves still attached. Where a McBuri is a hash brown and Hungarian Mafiosos drive Benzs with boots full of trays of eggs. Thermal baths warm you up and construction next door to the hostel drills your dehydrated brain. Gothic bars by night turn into breakfast rooms by day. Food is served in gargantuan portions and goulash is a thin soup not a thick stew.
It was oh so sweet and oh so cheap!