There are a few early bloomers, but most trees are still staunchly bare despite the greening lawns at their feet. Despite the lack of buds, the spring air is fresh and the city streets lined with half open jackets and scarves pulled loose. We are in Budapest for spring break this week.
The flight here was more brutal than usual, perhaps due to the sleep deficiency we carried with us from a long night of partying to celebrate a 40th birthday. After my nap this afternoon, however, I am ready to hit the streets below fanning down to the Danube and across into Pest. My mission: go and find a ticket office and buy seats for two for the theater tonight. Already my head hurts from my broken Hungarian. And now a two-hour stint sitting sans translator in a theater. It is good for my brain, I hope.
Already we have nibbled on cakes and biscuits at the Ruszwurm Cafe (I think L. was the only Hungarian not behind the cake cabinet). I have had my token cappuccino at my favorite coffee place near the Mammut shopping center. I had creamed celery soup for dinner. We attended a family birthday party where we held babies, ate meat stuffed with salami, and I retired for a ten minute nap that lasted an hour and a half. The beggar on the street was too drunk to hold out his hand as I passed by on my way to read. I reread a few chapters from "The Things They Carried" by O'Brien in the afternoon sun in Millenaris Park, where the young people also dress aggresively in black and talk loudly. I ate salami and loved it.
And it is only Monday.