What can one expect visiting a city last seen a long time ago? A sudden recall? A strange feeling of uncovering something already known? All I could recall was a set of photographs taken by my father. He managed to capture impressive urban landscapes and a very small, almost unrecognizable girl’s figure in a foreground. There I was, with the glorious Budapest behind my back.
Looking at the city which seems to reflect its gorgeous history in a present, one can’t help but wonder – are we what we’ve experienced or rather what we’re becoming right now? Is a continuous process of development measured by time or by milestones on a path?
For someone who has always been fascinated by the patterns, the view from above conveys the same message – here I am, standing soundly between my past and future, playing the game of life.
And before the plain landed, for a short moment, another city unveiled a few of its secrets.
So, I came back home with the Hungarian translation of The Little Prince and sweet memories of a cold cherry soup.