Györgyi had her wisdom tooth pulled on Friday afternoon. I say “extracted” but she doesn’t like it. I never had to have my wisdom teeth pulled. But from what I can tell, she handles it really well. So we pretty much had a lazy weekend. I made chicken meatball soup, which turned out to be really yummy. And on Saturday I woke up bright-eyed at 5:30 a.m ready to start the day. Because of the tooth pull, Györgyi couldn’t run, so Barnabás and I went out early. He has become such a spoiled brat recently. The entire last 2 kilometers, I was literally dragging him back by his neck.  Honestly I think he didn’t want to be running that early. When we got back to the apartment, he ate his 1/2 milk bone and then went right back to his bed. He was snoring before he even hit the pillow. Tough life.

Györgyi was awake too and we felt like getting out and doing something since the weather was so pretty. Cool air but bright, warm sunshine. We decided to get the car washed, since it looked like it had survived a Bolivian mudslide, and then try to find a coffee. It being Saturday and all, we weren’t going to MAKE our OWN coffee. But, unfortunately, many places in Budapest, just like everywhere in Europe where people don’t wake up until 8 a.m (i.e–midday) on Saturdays, there aren’t a lot of places open that early. In America, coffee houses are like crack dens. Dozens of people piling in and out at a 4, 5 a.m, red eyes pooled with shame, arms twitching. But here, a decent cappuccino is really only accessible at about 8.

So we drove up to Szentendre, a little artsy neighborhood just 20 minutes outside of Budapest. I needed some more pictures of B and the light and people-free streets were perfect that morning.

It’s just about the season for regional tourists to make their way here, as we would go to Prague (like we did this time last year) or other nearby countries/cities to visit. But the early morning, even in the city, is always the best time to take pictures of buildings and cobblestones and rooftops. Not only is it quiet and quaint, it’s closer to that old charm than when it’s clogged with tours.

The only other person on the street was a man walking his Puli. Pulis are loyal, adoring Hungarian herding dogs. But they honestly look like mops walking down the street. This little lady’s name was Coco.

She ate a little trash, smiled at Barnabás, then moved along.

We finally got a coffee and muffin back in the city. By that time is was almost 9 and Barnabás was ready for his 3rd nap of the day. The rest of the weekend was filled with walks, catching up on Seasons 5/6 of Lost, and slowing down a bit. I think in my old age, I’m really starting to appreciate this time of the year, and how nice it is to take the time. (to do anything at all).