Butchers of memory

But not in a bad way.

Arrival in Budapest has been difficult in some ways, jubilant in others and covered in such a layer of memory I had trouble finding myself in the present.
There is a lot of poverty, a lot of filth (how can Nyugati ter continue to smell like piss after all these years?) In fact, how did I love it so much then and can't remember that love now?
There are a lot of homeless people and people who beg.
But given a few days I've also seen places that sparkle with new life, and service levels have improved markedly. People return my smile, this makes me very happy.
Still no one asks how I am, and bus drivers look at me strangely when I say thank you when I get off, but I can live with that.

I went through all my old treasure boxes, all the old diaries, letters and keepsakes. I will be posting much of it home if I can afford to, but it was wild, revisiting those very old times. Love letters, how fucking wonderful are they!? And a lot of the time, how very juvenile. But it all mostly made me smile.

Seeing Balint again was actually pretty perfect. It seems enough time has passed for us to be genuine friends. I had forgotten how tall he was, and he said I had shrunk, but our humour is the same and we spent a lot of that first day laughing. Today I spoke to Bakos and slowly I will contact the whole old crew and hopefully get together soon. As much as I couldn't bear to live here, I miss these guys.

Which brings me to the butcher: I spent this morning walking the streets and reaquainting myself. On the way home I stopped at the Hunyadi teri market and went to the butcher where B and I used to shop weekly. Those guys were wonderful. And they're still there. Feri served me and I feel like he recognised me, but I was so overcome with this feeling of the pull of the past that i didn't know how to ask him if he remembered me. I will have to go again.

Time with mum has been intense and in the first day very very drunk (me), and accepting (her). Since then I've kept the beer consumption to less than 8 pints, but it's going well. Hungary pisses me off for not letting her have an easier life.
Speaking of life, Pista is still kicking on, in a very old-man kind of way but I am grateful he waited so I could squeeze him again.

Yesterday we spent some blissful hours in the Varosliget, me in the full sun sucking in as much summer as I can hold, mum in the shade, complaining about the heat. The way it has always been :)
We drank Edelweiss beer with lemon slices from plastic cups and it was wonderful. And then J called and it was good to think that there is more to look forward to at home than just vegemite toast.

I have now met Beni, my godson, who has more energy than I've ever seen in a tiny package like that. He really is quite perfect. And being able to spend time with Jutka again, in her calm and rational aura - I bloody adore that woman!

So, I'm off to the gym now and a swim - somehow I can't get my running mojo back in this heat so I need to do something to move and not drown in a sea of lard and beer calories.

I'm not going to write about H&M. I can't believe how much i love a bargain! It's shameful really. The first thing I bought though when I arrived here was a bright yellow Calzedonia bikini. I'm already getting lots of wear out of it.

Paul and I have been to parliament house together, so there is no danger of my madness diminishing.

yesterday morning was good coffee and sweet, crunchy muesli.
Our trip into the city centre was rain splashed but very very successful. I am now the proud owner of arguably the best looking handbag this side of the Isar :)
And there was H & M, Promod, Zara... all manner of drool making retail heaven bits. There was also a wonderful Japanese lunch, followed later by coffee and a sort of sweet langos that was just delectable.
After buying enough cheese for a lifetime we hoofed it home and I went for a (rather lackluster) run while Mari had a nap.
We feasted on cheese, Dinkelbrot (seriously seriously amazing bread) and wine. And then we practically ran to the movies where we saw a great new German film called Closed Season. I am always so gratified when film festivals are sellouts, and the cinema was absolutely crammed. Afterwards the director, a couple of the actors and the producer stood at the screen and gave a bit of an interview, and I enjoyed it even though I only understood when they said Ja and such.

On the metro yesterday Mari and I were talking about cats and how they make a home and we said both at the same time 'it's not a home if it doesn't have books and cats'. Much giggling.

Today I am left mostly to my own devices so I'm just waiting for the memory of breakfast to settle and then I am off for a swim, then the Lenbachhaus and then possibly another film. Tonight it's dinner with Andreas and Steffi and then a late late train to Budapest and my Ma.

It's comforting to be in a place so familiar, but yet also bursting with novelty. I love Munich a lot, and it's mostly for the people I always come to see.
Yesterday Mari had a seminar so we had a hurried breakfast together, and then I stayed, grazing on that amazing German brit and tomatoes bursting with the taste of summer on my tongue. I continued reading Bill Bryson (I figure more high brow stuff can wait until I'm more rested) in the sun in my bathers in this green-blessed terrace above the world.
Andreas came just before noon and there too is the comfort of the familiar. The best thing was that when I met his wife Steffi for the first time at their incredible apartment, that sense of familiar did not disappear. We made a very comfortable trio over a sumptuous lunch with more excellent coffee (but I have never seen a more space age coffee machine) and views over Munich. The city couldn't quite decide her mood yesterday - cloudy, sunny, stormy, windy..we had it all.
After lunch we hopped in the much-loved Q7 and Andreas managed to park into a space that was perhaps designed for half a Seicento and he did it with ease. Okay, with the help of a parking camera, but it was still pretty impressive.
We went for a walk through the Englischer Garten, where despite the clouds there was a very real summer festival feeling. My first pint of Augustiner was just divine.
On the long walk through the city toward my second pint we stopped in at the Theatiner Kirche - my favorite in the whole world, the Asamkirche which is a favorite of Steffi's and then Andreas and I hiked to the top of the 316 steps in the tower of the Alter Peter church. The views took my breath away more than the climb. A dearly loved city view under a dark blue and sometimes grey skyline, it was just beautiful.

Later at home, when I started to feel that my body was still on Perth time Mari and I had a simple dinner fit for kings and talked like we always do. And at the end of the day, this is why I'm here. It's a holiday for my soul. Just before bed I met her lovely man Walter, who is phenomenally sprightly for a 65 year old, but he is intelligent and considered, and I can see their connection.

Today promises less squirrel communion as the weather is a bit blowy to be out on the terrace, but there will be coffee (any minute now), and shopping (for my birthday) and a film or two at the Munich FilmFest. What perfect timing!

And here is a lesson in why I love Australia, and my iPhone: I bought Mari a Dinosaur Designs resin necklace back in April from the GPO and she loves it but it's too short. So I emailed the company back in Australia on Sunday and today received an email listing three different options of how we can exchange for a longer strand. One of the options was to check the warehouse in Sydney, and do a postal exchange. The lady wrote that it would be really helpful to see the necklace so she could check the stock. And I coolly whipped out my iPhone, took a photo and emailed it in about three seconds. How easy is that?! Welcome to the twenty first century Banana :)

You-rope

Finally, arrival. I will never again travel unless I can afford a decent airline with a less circuitous route. 44 hours was pushing it, even for this accepting banana.
China Southern is not an airline I would like to fly again. And I don't want to go to Beijing again. And certainly not to Guangzhou. But I will have to, to get home to Perth.
I have copious notes written on the reasons I was anxious to start this trip, and when I have more time (right now I want to be biting the beautiful Munich summer air) I will type them in.... but it has a lot to do with home, and how secure I feel in the knowledge that I have found mine. That old thing about belonging again, you know?
Mari and I had a great chat on the way back from the airport yesterday about precisely that, and how we need it very much because we come from such tiny families ourselves. The chat was so great in fact that with all the thunder and lightning plus our general lack of concentration on the road we almost ended up in Dachau!
But we got home, and after a luxurious shower I popped half a pill and sank smiling into the land of nod.
At 6am the sun was tickling my feet and I got up and helped prepare breakfast, then sat outside on the balcony with a mug of Paul and a Bill Bryson book on my kindle. I did the breakfast dishes after Mari left listening to Punjabi Bhangra music and shaking my butt in the hope that feeling would return. I am relishing every new sound, smell and taste. Summer tomatoes in Europe - there is nothing like them! Explosions of sunshine in my mouth.
Now I've checked the football scores (we won), sent some emails and updated Facebook and am ready to hit the town when Andreas arrives to pick me up.
Squirrels and bees and birds ... what a glorious day!