Unsinkable

We're back from Budapest, with laundry churning in the washing machine and (hopefully) Olga on her way back to us today.

Before we left late yesterday morning I had a bit of time to kill, so I went wandering in an area not far from our hotel. I found this time capsule of a video shop -- I don't think it's open anymore. There are still some movies displayed in the window but they all looked pretty faded and about ten years old.

I also played around with Waterlogue and produced a souvenir "watercolor" of the Hungarian parliament building in shadow:

Then we hopped in a taxi and headed to the airport, listening to a retro radio station that played songs like Gazebo's "I Like Chopin" and The Monkees' "Last Train to Clarksville." It was surreal listening as we rode through the rusty industrial landscape of outer Budapest.

I bought some expensive wine in the airport to use up my last Hungarian forints. (I'm thinking we'll save it for our Eurovision-watching party in May!) The flight was unremarkable, but it reminds me that I meant to tell you about a guy we saw at the airport when we were flying to Budapest last Tuesday. He was near us in the passport control line, and he had a ninja throwing star tattooed on his face and carried a backpack printed with pictures of marijuana leaves. The guy was basically a magnet for a strip search by customs. I didn't hang around to see what happened.

Anyway, we're glad to be home. It won't feel real until Olga gets here!

Lenin and the White Cat

Dave and I set out yesterday morning for Memento Park, where some of the most memorable artworks from the former Communist government of Hungary has been exiled. (The little guy above is not an example -- I just happened to photograph him along the way.)

After Communism fell in 1989, the new government debated what to do with all those imposing bronze and granite and limestone artworks commemorating the likes of Lenin, Marx, Engels and the imposing power of the state. (And also the "friendship" between Hungary and Russia, in which Russia always seemed -- and was --dominant.)

Rather than demolish it all, the government built a special park outside the city to house it for historical purposes. I really wanted to visit, because when I was growing up, Hungary was one of those mysterious countries behind the "iron curtain" that I never expected to see first-hand -- and it seemed only fitting to at least touch base with that Hungary of my memory.

Those Communists were a subtle lot, weren't they? All the statues looked like this -- massive, bulky, powerful and a little scary.

Getting to Memento Park was fun because we had to use public transportation. We rode a tram and then a public bus. I always feel like I have a true cultural experience when I'm rubbing elbows with the locals on public transit!

When we got back into town, we went to lunch in a little bistro where I had paprika chicken with dumplings (spaetzle). Outside, this woman was playing tunes like "Alexander's Ragtime Band" and even the theme from Benny Hill on her trumpet. She was really good. We gave her some money.

Dave was feeling tired, so at this point he went back to the hotel, and I went walking. I'd seen lots of things from the bus window the day before that I didn't have a chance to photograph, so this was my chance to catch up.

I visited St. Stephen's Basilica, where I had coffee and a chocolate muffin in the plaza. Then I walked over to Parliament and around that part of town before catching the metro...

...and going to the zoo! I didn't go in. I just wanted to photograph the fabulous Art Nouveau entrance gate, with its elephant guardians and crown of polar bears.

From there I went to Heroes Square, a massive plaza that commemorates the heroic figures in Hungary's history. (I think some of the Communist statuary that I saw at Memento Park used to stand here.)

And then I went on a crazy odyssey to find some great old signs I'd seen from the bus, including this neon owl outside an antiquarian book shop. I walked a really long way, but it felt good.

I also came across lots of campaign posters. Hungarian parliamentary elections are scheduled for April 8. This young guy, who has been dubbed by Politico as one of Hungary's "hipster patriots," clearly has at least one fan -- who, frankly, doesn't seem motivated by politics!

I walked back to the hotel room and met up with Dave, who had happily spent the afternoon napping and watching "Star Trek:Voyager" in German. (!) We went out to our favorite sushi place for dinner once again -- sushi being good for Dave on his gluten-free, mostly vegetarian diet.

Today we're homeward bound!

Sushi with Franz Liszt

We had a good day out and about yesterday. We took one of those hop-on, hop-off bus tours that showed us around town and gave us the lay of the land.

The Hungarians definitely have a thing for ornate architecture. Much of modern Budapest was built in the late 1800s and early 1900s, and the buildings are covered with elaborate Art Nouveau and Art Deco ornamentation, with sculpted figures and golden tile mosaics like this one. It's amazing stuff.

Dave and I keep saying sarcastic things like, "But the buildings are all so plain. I wish they'd try harder."

We rode the bus into Pest and got off at Deak Ferenc Square, a major transportation hub. From there we walked toward the Franz Liszt Academy of Music, which Dave wanted to visit. We passed this little square on the way, where a grandfather (I think) was pushing his granddaughter on a swing. The big colorful mural shows Kazinczy Utca, the street that runs through this neighborhood.

Lots of people -- and their dogs -- were out and about. (I actually took this from the bus, hence the elevated viewpoint.)

I peered into the open doorway of what looked like a large apartment building and saw this fountain standing in a quiet courtyard, ivy growing out of its basin.

The Academy of Music turned out to be an amazing building, recently remodeled to the standards of the period when it was constructed. (Late 1800s, I think?) Another teacher at the school where we work was educated here, and she urged us to visit and take the tour. It was well worth it.

While we were inside the concert hall, a couple of guys were doing maintenance on the chandeliers. That must be a full-time job, keeping all those light bulbs burning!

We were also treated to a brief concert by a student pianist, who played Mozart and Chopin.

We left the music hall and went to Starbucks for a coffee. As I was waiting in line to order, I paused literally two seconds to take this picture, and two old ladies went around me. "Excuse me!" I said, shooting them a dirty look and resuming my place in front of them. (Making friends with the locals again -- but what can I say? I have a British sense of the orderliness of a queue.)

Finally, we finished the day with a boat cruise on the Danube, from which I got this view of the Fisherman's Bastion and Matyas Church (on the hilltop at left) and the Calvinist Church at right. Our hotel, the Art'Otel, is the beige blocky building in the left foreground. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but we love it and it's in a great location.

For dinner we had -- of all things -- excellent sushi at a Japanese restaurant. Ah, globalization!

Barefoot in Budapest

We made it to Budapest just fine. And this is the view from our hotel room! How spectacular is that?! It's the Hungarian parliament building, completed in 1904, which our taxi driver told us is the second-largest parliament in Europe. I have no idea whether that's true or not, but it sounds good to me.

When I booked our hotel I specifically intended to face the river and this view, and I was alarmed to find upon check-in that I had booked a "castle view" room, which it turns out is on the other side of the building. Fortunately the hotel moved us with no problem! I guess I thought this was the castle. Just FYI, in case you come to Budapest, it's not.

There's lots of interesting and ornate architecture and we were blessed yesterday with sunshine, which I feel like I haven't seen in weeks! The temperatures are comfortable -- no jacket required. Dave and I have finally been released from the chilly grip of our London spring.

After we checked in to our hotel we set out to find lunch. We ate at a sidewalk cafe across from this high-spirited beauty salon. I ordered goulash soup -- because one of the few things I know about Hungary is that it's the home of goulash -- but it turns out goulash and goulash soup are not quite the same thing. It was basically meat soup with root vegetables. Not bad!

My stepmother used to make Hungarian goulash with noodles and ground beef and tomato. I have no idea where she got the recipe or whether it's at all authentic, but I'll try some actual goulash at some point and we'll find out!

After lunch we walked to the funicular that carries passengers up the steep hillside to the castle. We're on the Buda side of the river, across from Pest. Here are some of the rooftops of Buda.

We walked around the royal palace, which is now a museum and has been extensively rebuilt several times after being destroyed in a succession of wars, including World War II. From there we went into the old town.

We passed the incredibly colorful Matyas Church, and walked up onto the turreted viewing terrace known as the Fisherman's Bastion, which overlooks the city.

We kept seeing this young couple, out for the day to take their wedding photos. The woman carried her shoes the whole time. We called her the "Barefoot Bride."

From the Fisherman's Bastion we walked back down the steps of the steep hill and back to our hotel. Last night we ate at the hotel -- Wiener schnitzel for me, and a crazy dessert made from lime sherbet and vodka! And then I went out to take one last shot of Parliament:

Those lights don't stay on all night. I woke up in the early morning and looked out, and most of them had been switched off. So we are being energy-conscious here in Hungary!

Plugged In

I noticed this unusual piece of street art while (of course) walking Olga yesterday morning. Someone stenciled electrical outlets onto this wall along Finchley Road. Kind of funny, isn't it? I think there's a phone booth nearby -- I wonder if the wire from the plugs originally ran to the booth?

I don't know why I feel like I should apologize for the appallingly filthy conditions in that photo. After all, it's not my wall.

Here's a close-up. Those definitely look like British-style iPhone plugs!

So the courier for the "luxury pet hotel" showed up as planned yesterday and spirited Olga away to Enfield. She got all excited, thinking she was going for a walk, and when we walked her to the van she seemed skeptical but she got in as directed. The courier reassured us that the dogs have quarters with under-floor heating and lots of space to run around outside, and she was even permitted to take her Kong and her pink blanket with her. And still, still, I feel guilty.

It's absurd, really.

I spent the afternoon reading, finishing "The Immortalists" by Chloe Benjamin, which was certainly compelling. I really enjoyed it, and best of all, now I don't have to carry that book with me to Budapest!

Dog Paws and Nibbly Mice

We're at the time of year when it becomes a battle to keep the floor clean. There's just so much mud out there.

I take my shoes off at the door, to avoid tracking it inside, and when Dave remembers, he does the same.

And yet this is how the floor looked Saturday afternoon. You don't have to be Sherlock Homes to figure out who the canine culprit was.

I got down on my hands and knees and cleaned all the floors. (Yes, we do have a mop, but it's actually easier for me to just sponge the high-traffic areas.) The telltale pawprints are now gone. For the time being.

Then I took Olga to Hampstead Heath where she got extra muddy but had an awful lot of fun. She got bathed when she got home so we avoided further floor messiness.

I couldn't resist running the photo through Waterlogue just to see what would happen. It's a bit too subtle, isn't it?

(I promise I won't do this with every single picture I take.)

So, have I mentioned we're going to Budapest tomorrow? (Provided the courier from Olga's "pet hotel" in Enfield shows up to collect her today, as planned.) I think I wrote about it when we planned the trip several weeks ago, but yeah, the departure date is finally almost here. I know -- it snuck up on me, too!

Yesterday evening we watched three mice cavorting on the peanut-filled bird feeder outside. I've only ever seen one at a time before, so that seems like an ominous sign. The peanut feeder hangs on the wooden fence next to the patio, and they can easily climb up there via the neighbor's shrubbery. Now I'm debating whether we should move the feeder elsewhere in the garden to discourage the mice, or is it OK to allow them to eat there -- in the hope that it will keep them outdoors?

Mrs. Kravitz told me last week that she found mice in her house, and she was quite upset about it. And you probably remember I heard one chewing on our dog-food bag in the foyer. I've moved the food and I plan to get a plastic bin for it, and we've pretty much mouse-proofed everything else, so I haven't seen or heard them again.

We may have a little neighborhood infestation going on.

Where are those foxes when we need them?!

Waterlogue

My blog pal Vivian recently mentioned an app called "Waterlogue" that renders photos as watercolor paintings. I was intrigued enough to buy it ($3.99) and experiment with it a bit.

Above is a view of a house that I photographed while walking Olga yesterday morning. I liked the yellow-on-yellow theme, and I must say, the Waterlogue version looks even better than the original picture:

Don't you think? Somehow it clarifies the color and reduces the visual clutter of the photo.

It was very easy to convert -- it takes about two seconds, and you can watch it happen.

Vivian (who is a watercolor painter herself) pointed out -- and rightly so -- that an app can never make the sorts of intentional decisions that an artist would, about what to depict and how. But having said that, the finished product is pretty darn amazing.

Of course I had to try it on a picture of Olga, lying on the bed with her favorite pink blanket.

I got the wildflower garden planted yesterday. It was a comedy of errors -- I scattered two packets of seeds from Homebase, and all the while a pigeon was sitting on the fence above the garden eyeing it greedily. I walked over the seeds after scattering them -- as the host of our favorite gardening TV show suggested we do, to push the seeds into the soil -- but our soil is so clayey that it stuck to my shoes in big blobs, and I suspect that half the seeds are now buried in the treads of my footwear. (I did my best to put the blobs back!) And finally, I scattered seed compost on top, which looks like awfully inviting digging material for the squirrels.

So between squirrels, my shoes and that pigeon -- not to mention other unmentioned hazards -- I'm not sure what's going to survive out there!