My Spring Semester as a Medical Exchange Student in Budapest

I landed in Budapest on a chilly March morning with my stethoscope tucked between lecture notes and a stubborn fear that I’d never learn to say “köszönöm” without blushing. Two weeks later, the cherry trees in City Park began to flirt with pink, the Danube thawed into a silky ribbon, and I could order coffee without pointing. Progress looks small from the outside. It feels enormous from within.

Why Budapest, Why Now

I’m a medical student from Spain, and Budapest called to me for three reasons: Semmelweis University’s reputation, an exchange slot that fit my curriculum, and the promise that I could afford to live decently on a student budget. I imagined libraries with creaky floors, meals that didn’t require a small loan, and anatomy discussions that would stretch me. I got all of that, plus ruin bars with peeling frescoes and strangers who’ve become study partners, dance buddies, and on-call translators.

The Paperwork Nobody Mentions (But You’ll Need It)

As an EU citizen, I didn’t need a student visa for Hungary. That surprised some friends back home, but free movement really is a gift. Still, there’s administration to handle once you arrive:

• Registration: I had to register my EU residence within 90 days. The process felt like a scavenger hunt: passport, university enrollment letter, proof of accommodation (my rental contract), and a passport photo. After a morning at the immigration office and a nod from a polite official, I got my EU registration certificate and later the small address card (lakcímkártya) that landlords and banks love to see.
• Health coverage: I brought my European Health Insurance Card (EHIC), which public clinics accept. Some classmates applied for a TAJ number (Hungarian social insurance) through the university. I didn’t need it for a short exchange, but I keep copies of my EHIC and ID in my backpack, just in case.

For non-EU classmates, the path looked different: most applied for a D-type student visa before arrival and then converted it to a residence permit for studies once in Budapest. They needed a proof of admission, accommodation, sufficient funds, and health insurance. The university’s international office was the lifeline—if you’re reading this from outside the EU, contact them early and follow their checklist like it’s your final exam.

Finding a Place to Live Without Losing Your Mind

I tried dorms (“kollegium”), but ended up in a shared flat in the 7th district—close to campus and the tram, a few streets from the ruin bars for better or worse. Rent for a room in a shared apartment in central Budapest is still kinder than Madrid or Barcelona, though prices are creeping up. I pay what feels reasonable for the location, and we split utilities.

Tips that saved me:

• Always ask for a written contract in English (or Spanish) and Hungarian.
• Expect a deposit—the “kaució” is typically two months’ rent.
• If you need an address card, make sure the contract has the exact address and your name. Your landlord will likely need to sign a form for your registration.

Groceries are cheaper than at home if you stick to markets and discount chains. The Central Market Hall is a postcard—touristy, yes, but I still go for paprika and a Saturday langos (fried dough with sour cream and cheese) when I feel brave. Lidl for basics, Spar for quick runs, and mom-and-pop “ABC” tiendas for late-night milk.

Getting Around: BKK, Bikes, and the Danube

Budapest’s public transport is punctual and sprawling. I bought a student monthly pass through BKK for a fraction of what my Spanish city charges. It’s valid on metros, trams, and buses—validate and keep it handy because inspectors are real. The M1 metro (the little yellow line) is the oldest on the continent and makes you feel like a character in an old film. Tram 2 runs alongside the Danube with castle views that ruin your productivity.

In spring, the city sprouts bicycles. I joined MOL Bubi, the bike-share program, and ride to classes on good days. The ring roads can be chaotic, but there are more bike lanes than I expected. Pro tip: the wind coming off the river will humble your hairstyle and your punctuality.

The Classroom: Cadavers, Case Sheets, and New Ways to Learn

Semmelweis’s teaching style is more structured than I’m used to. Our anatomy labs are precise; the professors expect you to speak up and speak correctly. The first time I had to present a case in English with Hungarian lab results on the slide, I accidentally mixed up “liver” and “spleen” while trying to pronounce “lép” under the fluorescent lights. My attending didn’t flinch, just corrected me gently and moved on. Kindness can be clinical and still generous.

Clinical rotations started sooner than I anticipated. The wards are busy, and patient privacy rules are strict. I carry a small notebook with Hungarian medical terms: “kórház” (hospital), “orvos” (doctor), “beteg” (patient). I don’t use them perfectly, but effort opens doors. When a nurse heard me mutter “Elnézést” in the corridor, she broke into a grin and slowed down enough for me to catch up—physically and linguistically.

Hungarian: The Mountain I Keep Climbing

Hungarian looks like it was designed by a linguist having fun. The vowels (ő! ű!) do gymnastics my mouth is still learning, and “sz” is an “s,” while “s” is a “sh.” I practice on the 4-6 tram, mouthing words as Buda slides by. My favorite word so far: “Egészségedre!”—cheers, and literally, “to your health.” As a med student, it feels right.

I joined a tandem language group on Tuesday nights, bribed with pastries and patience. We swap Spanish for Hungarian phrases and laugh at the ones that make us blush. After class, we wander to a ruin bar—crumbling walls, mismatched lamps, a courtyard that smells faintly of damp stone and spring. Szimpla Kert’s Sunday farmers’ market is my newest ritual: sour cherries, fermented vegetables, a guy selling hand-drawn maps of the city as if we’ve just discovered it.

Ruin Bars, Safety Nets, and Saying Yes

People warn you about the ruin bars like they’re a trap, but I’ve found them to be living rooms for the curious. Instant-Fogas is sprawling and loud; I prefer smaller spots where you can actually talk. Beers are affordable, and a fröccs (wine spritzer) is gentle enough for a weeknight. Bring cash for some places, though most take cards now.

I expected to meet Erasmus students easily; I didn’t expect to meet a retired pharmacist who teaches chess at the community center on Thursdays or a PhD student who argues that paprika is a philosophy, not a spice. The city nudges you into these unexpected friendships if you give it time.

On nights when the world feels large, I walk the river from Liberty Bridge to Margaret Island and count the runners. Spring here is soft around the edges: magnolias, little dogs in sweaters, couples with powdered sugar on their lips from kürtőskalács (chimney cake).

The Cost of Living: What My Wallet Actually Feels

Budapest is still kind to students, especially if you avoid the most touristy corners. My monthly budget covers rent, transport, groceries, the occasional thermal bath, and the kind of coffee that makes you write too many notes. A medical student’s nightlife is… measured. But when I do go out, the bill doesn’t make my eyes water.

Some numbers will vary, but for my circle:

• Rooms in shared flats in the center cost less than in Madrid or Barcelona at similar convenience.
• The student transport pass is significantly cheaper than Western Europe.
• Groceries and market produce are friendly to a student budget; imported goods can spike.
• Nights out can be as cheap or expensive as you make them—local spots are better value than the glossy places on the river.

Healthcare: Studying It, Needing It

I haven’t needed more than a GP visit (cursed spring pollen), but the system worked. I booked through a clinic that accepts the EHIC, paid a small fee, and got reimbursed later. Pharmacies—“gyógyszertár”—are everywhere, marked by green crosses. Pharmacists are patient and practical. I learned quickly to bring the Hungarian or Latin name of medications; brand names vary more than you think.

Holidays and Small Moments

March 15 is a national holiday here, commemorating the 1848 Revolution. On my way to the library that week, I saw children with little tricolor ribbons pinned to their coats and older couples standing quietly at statues. I didn’t understand every speech, but I understood the feeling.

The baths are at their best in spring. Rudas at sunset feels like a secret—the dome, the echo of voices, steam rising as the city lights come up. We talked about finals between dips, floating in water that has witnessed more than we have.

What I’ve Learned (So Far)

• Ask for help early—at the international office, in class, in a shop when you’re mangling a word. Most people are kinder than your anxiety predicts.
• Admin days are exhausting. Block a morning, bring snacks, and double-check your documents.
• Learn the basics of Hungarian. Not because you must, but because it turns strangers into neighbors.
• Explore beyond District VII. Walk Buda’s hills, sit under the plane trees on Margaret Island, and take the suburban railway to Szentendre when you need a breather.
• Find your people. ESN events are a start, but so are study groups, language exchanges, and volunteering. Medicine can be isolating; don’t let it be.

If You’re Considering the Same Path

• Visa and residency: EU students like me don’t need a visa but do need to register and get an address card. Non-EU friends needed a D-type student visa and then a residence permit; start early and keep every receipt, contract, and letter.
• Housing: Beware of scams. View places in person when possible, and never transfer a deposit before you’ve signed a contract and seen the keys. Ask for your landlord’s tax number on the lease—it’s normal.
• Budget: Set a monthly cap and track it the first two months. The city is affordable, but little pleasures add up.
• Health: Bring your EHIC or insurance docs, and a small pharmacy kit for allergies and colds. Spring is beautiful and sneezy.
• Academics: The workload is real. Plan your study blocks around the city’s rhythms: quieter mornings, bustling afternoons, libraries that fill up fast. The Metropolitan Ervin Szabó Library is gorgeous but can distract you if you’re weak for chandeliers.

I came here to learn medicine and found myself learning how to live in a language that wasn’t mine, in a city that rewards curiosity and patience. The magnolias outside my window are halfway to bloom, which feels like a good description of me right now—reaching, not quite there, still beautiful.

If you’re on the fence, come. Bring your humility, your documents in a folder, and a willingness to mispronounce “köszönöm” until it finally lands on your tongue like something you earned.

Best wishes from Budapest,