It
tried to rain today. Really it did. It's been brutally
hot since Tuesday (probably before Tuesday too, but I
wasn't here to notice it) and even I can tell that the TV
weather people are talking heat wave and drought. They've
also been saying a cold front was about to come through
any day now. So today it tried to rain.
Marti made a wonderful meal of cold
cherry soup, salad, noodles, and chicken paprikash. She
set the table outside in the garden all nicely for a
picnic. As soon as we sat down to our soup raindrops
began to fall. Just a few fat drops. We tried to tough it
out, figuring it was just that - a few drops Then it
started to pour. We dashed back indoors with our lunch
and ate in the kitchen. As soon as we finished the soup
the rain was gone. The sky was clear and dry as if we had
imagined the whole thing.
On the way home tonight the #19
tram went only as far as the Chain Bridge. Everyone had
to get off. I have no idea why as I didn't understand the
announcement. That wasn't so bad though. On summer
weekends the Chain Bridge is closed to traffic. It turns
into a pedestrian area with theme festivals for each
weekend. This week's is French Culture (gee, must be
because tomorrow is Bastille Day). I strolled across the
bridge right down the middle of the road. Food stalls
hawked Hungarian food and the only evidence of French
culture was a series of posters about the Tour de France.
At the end of the bridge was giant video screen showing
highlights of the Tour de France, not easily viewable in
the bright sunlight.
Across the bridge on the Pest side
was a bad rock band playing American rock n' roll
standards (it's got to be that rock and roll music, if
you want to dance with me), a boys choir barely making
themselves heard, and tons and tons and tons of tourists.
As far as I could tell none of them were French. I don't
know what I expected: pastries, cream sauces, discussions
of deconstructionism, live performances of
Moliere...?
One of the tourist trap restaurants
along Vaci ut had a chalkboard menu in English listing
Hungarian goulash and Deák Ferenc Flaming Sword. I
was tempted to go in and order the Deák Ferenc
Flaming Sword just to see what it is, but given that
there were no prices on the menu I figured it would be
too expensive.
The whole Danube embankment was
filled with young couples kissing, old couples walking
hand in hand, tourists photographing each other by the
Danube, and a few children chasing each other with wooden
swords (hmm, Deák Ferenc flaming swords?). Pigeons
drank out of the fountains and hopped around on the
pavement wherever the pedestrian traffic wasn't too
thick. As I walked toward Deák tér, some of
the pigeons started to look familiar, like I recognized
them from previous visits. Yikes!
I picked up a lemon Fanta in the
metro station and cooled off with it while I waited for
the HEV train back to Csillaghegy.
