This is Not the Golden Age- Olof Palme House and Párizsi Udvar

I occasionally (as in, frequently) have questionable ideas, and one of these was jogging to the polling station a couple of weekends ago, keeping my fingers crossed that the chilly weather would allow me to be fairly presentable, both visually and odour-wise. I either succeeded, or the ladies in the electoral commission have by now…

Fickle Snow- A Morning in Városliget

Not only does snow have a smell, but it also has a very particular way of filtering light as it sneaks into the apartment on winter mornings. In all honestly, calling it light might be an overstatement, it is more a state of darkness that is incomplete, an undecided darkness, a confused darkness, a darkness…

Summer’s End in Városliget

The other day it dawned on me that the Budapest exploration project faded a little into the background with the advent of summer. It’s the season I enjoy the most, but also the one I find borderline tiring in its relentless excitement: the travels, the long days when you feel compelled to stay out with…