With my boyfriend, we have been staying in different areas of the city. Our fist apartment was located near the Blaha Lujza ter, one of the most contradictory places I ever saw.
One of our favorite things to do was to observe the city through our window! We had a very nice view to the New York Café/Boscolo Hotel, which is probably one of the prettiest buildings in Budapest. During the day, countless tourists would visit the New York Café for a quick breakfast or dinner. Usually, they would wear very nice and formal clothes in order to fit into the luxurious atmosphere of the place. However, New York Café itself did not fit in the atmosphere of Blaha area. As soon as the night would come, more and more drunk people would appear on the streets as well as prostitutes and homeless. Police cars would often pass through the area each night.
For the first couple of months in our apartment, we used to hear a very specific type of scream coming from the street every single night. We didn’t pay too much attention, because anything was possible in our neighborhood. One night the scream got our attention for good. And this was the first time we ever saw her… the “Blaha Woman”.
The “Blaha Woman” was a probably homeless, with a questionable state of mind lady, around 50 years old and with a distorted face. She would make a circle through our block every single night at exactly the same time and always in the same direction. On her way, she would break everything, scream to everyone and scare the hell out of anyone. Despite the fact that she was homeless, she was always wearing something new, like a scarf or a fancy bag. She would pass through all the restaurants and pubs down our street, grabbing drinks and eating food from the outside tables, freaking out the toughest looking guys. Everyone would become “chicken” in front of her. Elegant looking tourists, who were waiting for a taxi near New York Café, would start running, struggling on high heels and expensive clothes when they would see her.
For us, however, she didn’t look like a “danger”. She looked more like the “woman of the street”. When she was walking through the block, everything seemed to belong to her, and she was not afraid of anyone! Sometimes, she would even dance, sing, or appear naked or even take an imaginary shower right on the street. While time was passing,” Blaha Woman” was already a part of our life.
The night when she threw a bottle on a windshield at a passing car was the last time we saw her.