Living in Budapest – a Moldovan perspective: Let the city love you back

Our team is committed to reaching out to and giving a voice to foreigners who have moved to Hungary for work, family, or other reasons, and who spend their daily lives here. We want to understand how they feel about living here, what difficulties they face, how they have managed to integrate, and what they think about Hungary and their place of residence. Therefore, we have launched a series in which we interview foreigners living here about their work and experiences in our country.

Ever wondered what it’s like to live in Hungary as an expat? Let us show you what a Moldovan individual has to say about life in Budapest.

Author: Valeria Ciolac

Five years like a lifetime

When I first arrived in Budapest back in 2020, I had no idea that paprika would become such a significant staple in my diet, that thermal baths would be my go-to therapy, or that a simple tram ride along the Danube followed by some shopping on Andrássy Avenue could calm even the most stressful day. It was the start of something new — and yet, I couldn’t have imagined just how much this city would give me. What was meant to be a few years of studies has turned into what feels like an entire lifetime compressed into five years. If time is measured not in hours but in moments that shape you — then I’ve lived many lives here.

I came to study International Relations at Corvinus University. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t speak the language. But I stayed — because this city slowly, persistently, and unexpectedly became home.

A city that teaches you how to feel

Budapest is not a place you merely live in — it’s a place that teaches you how to feel more deeply. It taught me how to listen: to unfamiliar languages and unnamed emotions. It taught me how to look: at crumbling façades that reveal layered histories, at Danube sunsets that shift from golden to violet in minutes, and at Hungarians who at first seem distant, but who, once you’re in, hold you like family.

Budapest, the city that grounds and surprises you

I now live in District II, on the Buda side — a place where city life slows into green hills, where silence has depth, and where birdsong starts your morning better than any alarm clock. It’s peaceful in a way that doesn’t feel isolated — it just holds you gently before the city rush begins.

And when the rush gets too much, Budapest does something no other city can: it lets you dissolve into hot, healing water.

During exam seasons, before deadlines, after hard days — I go to the baths. Rudas, with its octagonal dome and rooftop views, is my favorite for moments when I need clarity. Széchenyi, especially in the winter, offers a kind of fairy-tale decadence. Gellért feels like stepping into a Wes Anderson film, and if you want something more hidden, Veli Bej — intimate, quiet, and deeply historic — is a gem.

The Hungarian cuisine: comfort, culture, and calories I don’t regret

My deepest memories are marked by food. In 2023, I spent Christmas with the family of one of my closest Hungarian friends. That’s when I first tasted Hortobágyi palacsinta, served with a reverence that made me realize this dish is more than a recipe — it’s love folded into a pancake. The father handed me a glass of quince pálinka as if handing down a family secret.

Since then, Hortobágyi palacsinta and pálinka became my comfort duo. Whenever I’m sad, I knock on their door. No explanation needed. They already have the plate warm and the pálinka poured.

That same winter, I must have eaten 10 kilos of bejgli. And I regret none of it.

When I’m not at work: my Budapest rituals

This city has something for every version of yourself. On energetic days, I run through Margaret Island, under the canopy of trees. I cycle along Kopaszi gát, where the city feels quieter and the water always keeps pace with my thoughts. I walk endlessly across the bridges of Budapest, each one offering a new perspective of a city that keeps shifting — like a kaleidoscope.

I picnic in Normafa, read books in Múzeumkert, attend the Opera and Operetta, sing karaoke in Gozsdu Udvar, jump on the trampoline in my backyard, and wander up to the Philosophers’ Garden on Gellért Hill, where the city stretches out below the statues and everything feels briefly in balance. I chase squirrels in Városliget like a child on a sugar rush and order mákos guba at my favorite café — even though I pretend to look at the menu every time. Some days I take tram 2 just to sit in the front and watch the Parliament slide by like it’s part of a movie I somehow live in.