First Day of Spring

On which it is settled that there is a quiet daffodil crisis unfolding in Budapest (there are much less than in other years, and logically, they're more expensive), but the trees on Gellért hill are blooming slightly ahead of schedule.

The Várkert Bazár is pretty in theory, but still flawed in practice. There are just too many undefined ideas lurking around for their own good and some of the work is plain shoddy. It does have free wi-fi though.

It is very worth crossing into Buda for a coffee-yes, I am a horrible Pest-dependent creature but it suddenly struck me that Kelet kávézó is actually only three tram stops away from my usual hood. Well, provided trams are running, for there is a frenzy of "rebuild everything!now" all around the city which is generally expressed by moving or altogether annihilating tram stops where you least expect it.

One Day in Istanbul

Spending one day in Istanbul and then trying to draw any conclusion from it is like studying a drop of water and then drawing conclusions on the ocean's flora and fauna. So I won't attempt anything and just let the pictures do the talking.

The Island when it's not THE island- The (Snowless) Winter Edition

I spent the whole winter waiting patiently. It will come, yes it will. The snow. There'll be one snow that lasts for more than a day, covers more than a centimetre of ground. And then we will go to take the "Sziget in winter" white, fluffy shots. Well, that snow didn't come, so we had no choice but to trudge onto the island on a rather muddy February day. Let's say that the feeling of nothing was particularly intense. A nothing occasionally interrupted by a wallet sized dog, an islet of snowdrops, the roar of a largish Emirates jet. Which is of course very much nothing compared to how the main stage roars on a lovely summer's night. The good thing is, that summer's night is now less than half a year away.

And on the up side, I got to try my hand at sophisticated pictures of nothing (that fetch millions at auctions if not taken by me). A few more snowless winters and I'll be the mistress of abstract mudtracks.