Yellow

Easter weekend has come and gone, and though it’s just Tuesday, I’m a little behind on my days. We had a day-off for the Easter Monday tradition, which frees up a full day for Hungarian men to throw water on women in a fertility ritual that pre-dates Christianity altogether. (We stayed inside with movies and Turkish food).

On Saturday we went to the Hungarian National Museum (me, Györgyi and her nephew Máté). I’ve never been to the National Museum. It’s beautiful, and an emblem of many freedom movements for Hungarians, since it is where poet & revolutionary, Petőfi Sándor, recited his famous call-to-revolution poem).

They have a huge Hungarian collection, which I’d like to see on another day when I really have time and energy to explore. On Saturday we were there to see the collection of photographs from this year’s Hungarian Press Photo exhibition.

After the exhibition, we went to the castle district (District I) to walk around. And of course to take the required parliament-in-the-background group photos.

To be completely honest, I’m really not a big fan of the castle district this time of year, or day, or holiday. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen these places in all of their quiet loveliness that I really can’t stand to be there fighting through the crowds. This is, I admit, a curmudgeonly view. But it’s where I am with my love/hate relationship with city tourists.

I was happy to look up and see that the top portion of scaffolding has been removed from Mátyás Templom. Which means that they might be nearing the end of renovations–hopefully by the time my family arrives this summer.

My crusty outlook improved when we went to the back of the castle wall, where there is a walkway overlooking the Buda Hills. There were almost only locals back there, doing what locals do best in the spring sunshine–enjoying it.

We admired the universal language of spring holidays, documented in chalk.

And what’s more Spring than PUPPY!  And the real 2010 Easter Miracle? — That these two gentlemen didn’t get their dog dognapped, by me.

The Castle District is about colors.

And contrasts.

Which are never more apparent than in the eye of an easy, afternoon sun. It makes you wish that window was your window, that bench, your bench.

As the shadows follow you through the narrow alleyways, you imagine the history of afternoons here, and a kind of gentle time passing.

With loving family.

And loyal friends.

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