Never Too Early for Some Morning Mist


Should you decide that having woken up with the sun on a Sunday morning (or what you assume to be the sun, hidden by a thick veil of golden-yellow mist) you might as well go out for a walk, and some pictures while you’re at it, you will learn some important facts about Budapest mornings, as follows.

1) It’s never too early for a British stag party to be looking for a bar that serves ’beer not only coffee’. Apparently, we’re being unreasonable continentals who drink coffee in the mornings, for mysterious reasons which eschew the understanding of our brexiting frenemies.

2) It’s never too early for someone to be out on the small promontory at the foot of Margit bridge taking pictures, possibly with a very loud drone that will buzz into your proximity and scare the living daylights out of you. On the up side, the drone owner’s mildly bored friend served as the perfect prop for a faintly Caspar David Friedrichian composition.

3) It’s never too early for the Danube’s seagulls to be incredibly loud and fractious and stare you down with obvious, if unexplained, hatred. They also seem to take the drones personally, the first of their quirks I perfectly understand and share. I am also rooting for them on the day when they will decide to take final and bloody revenge against the robots.

4) It’s never too early for someone to have an incredibly strident conversation over the phone, which reverberates through the entire HÉV stop. Pacing up and down the platform, so everyone would enjoy perfect coverage and sound quality, she involved us all in the minutiae of her commute, which involved excruciating five-minute waiting times and buses that were not perfectly synchronized, so her Sunday morning was ruined by being a quarter of an hour late to somewhere irrelevant.

5) It’s never too early for a large group of Chinese tourists (no clueless racial profiling here, they had a guide leading them with a king sized Chinese flag, looking fairly martial in the morning fuzz) to completely block the Chain Bridge and look deeply offended when one points out that the initial purpose of the structure is to allow the much suffering inhabitants of the city to cross from one side of the Danube to the other. How dare we, really.

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