Fog Moves in Mysterious Ways

I like to take proverbs (and mostly anything) with a pinch of salt, but it's dawned on me recently that I quite agree with the Romanian one stating that you know a good day by its morning. Which in my case, in utter conflict with everything my younger self believed in, is an early morning. Possibly a disgracefully early one, which in winter involves freezing on pitch dark streets and then warming your numb limbs in the empty office to the pleasant hum of the dispenser warming the first tea water of the day.

I had planned this morning to be the same, but, as every so often, fate mercilessly intervened, setting my whole day on an awkward trajectory that culminated with an hour long wait to reach a stammering call center assistant, or, pardon my rudeness, service professional, who most likely judged me by the stupidity of the issue with which I was ruining his day. (Infernally stupid would be a mild way to put it, so I valiantly accept his assumption.)

Before I ramble into further nonsense, let me return to the reason of this veering off orbit: as I peacefully approached Andrássy avenue, I noticed something odd. I couldn't see a damn thing, although, according to my wise weather app, the sun should have risen. Well of course, fog again! I had waited for this fog, on other days, days for which I had no grand designs, besides shooting the fog. And were they splendid days- of unfiltered, uninterrupted, undisturbed sunshine. And no fog. But now it was all around me, thick like insolent candy cotton. So I decided to go wherever it would call me. 

April Random #2

How on earth did we make it to May already- complaining about time flying by fast is a sure sign of getting old, I guess, but this April seems to have been particularly good at happening really intensely. We hardly had any daffodils and tulips around, and then out of the blue it was flowers everywhere, cherry trees in full bloom, then suddenly the lilac joined in and now most trees already have their summer leaves ready.

Mornings were still chilly, but often allowed for spectacular cloud action and the afternoons were warm enough for dinners al fresco and the first Pántlika burger of the season. Sunsets weren’t half bad either, and there are very few things quite as enjoyable as idling around town in the evening when it’s warm and you don’t really need a sweater anymore.

End of April also means it’s time for the Budapest book festival, which means I buy at least one book too many for my own good, but more often than not a  small library of them.

Then there’s the list of things I still have not done in Budapest, so to tick one off the list, I ventured into the Agricultural Museum in Vajdahunyad castle. It was quite, erm, interesting, as a Brit would say. Almost literary. Like a page from a horror novel where the heroine gets stuck in a labyrinth of half successful taxidermy and never resurfaces to see the light of day. Mercifully I did, but I will think long and hard before venturing in there again. The stained glass windows are lovely though.