Category Archives: Travel

Living in a fruit salad

Posted in Food, Fun, Life, Travel by

“Catherine, it’s so delicious. Oh, it’s so sweet! Finom, ez finom!”

This is Anna the fruit pusher (aka Zsolt’s mother) trying to convince me to eat a piece of the orange coloured melon she’s just sliced. The table is covered with fruit – melon, apple, pear, peach . . . this morning there were raspberries, now finished off, and a few weeks earlier there were cherries too.

Hungary in the summer has a never ending parade of fruit. Organic, locally grown (aka the backyard), sweet, juicy, fruit.

 But I’m no fan of melons, with the exception of watermelons.

“Oh de jo,” she says, meaning ‘how good’ and looking earnestly at my face. You know, there’s something about her lovely blue eyes and absolutely eager expression that almost temps me to try the melon piece. But that would open flood gates. First comes one piece, then suddenly a slice, and then, of course, a whole half of the melon she’s trying to have finished.

“Lots of vitamins,” Zsolt reminds me. That’s the ultimate argument around here: lot’s of vitamins.

So I say to Zsolt, “how come your Dad isn’t eating fruit?” Laszlo is finishing off an ice cream (I also don’t want an ice cream; it’s too sweet for this hot weather. And I do not want a melon. Instead, as all this transpires, I’m slicing into peach after peach – recently picked from Zsolt’s grandmother’s peach tree in Pecs.)

“We’re all thinking of you,” replies Zsolt. “You’re the one who got sick.”

And it’s so freaking true too. For years I was saying his family eats too much bread, too much sugar – actually, I think too much anything is probably too much. And then I go and get the cancer. So there’s egg on my face. But nevertheless, I’m not eating an ice cream when fruit will do just as well; mind you, I’m also not eating that melon.

“Jo borat, finom.” I comment – nice peach, tasty. And the conversation is deflected into peaches. Ground has been held, no melon has passed my lips.

Next up in the fruit parade will Hungarian-grown watermelons. I’m looking forward to this stage of the summer, because unlike those other melons – watermelons are wonderful.

Now Anna has turned toward her husband, Laszlo, and is trying to sell him the melon. He’s not budging either, though his ice cream is nearly finished. I feel like he and I are allies in our dislike toward melons (just ignore that I tried to throw him under the wheels in an effort to deflect attention from myself – we’re allies now. It’s all okay.)

This is a fruit salad summer. Lots of vitamins. Lots of juice. Lots of natural sugar. I’m not sure if so much fruit is or isn’t cancer fighting (I’d say all those raspberries were probably quite helpful), but they are certainly delicious.

Anyhow, no melon for me, thanks very much. But I’ll certainly have another peach.

Spiritual thrill ride with a Balatoni storm

Posted in Bumpboobs, Life, Travel, Writing by

Here we are on the porch in Balaton, sitting underneath the awning and watching the rain. There, on the table, are my indulgences: a cup of steaming tea and an unwrapped bar of dark chocolate (70% coco, if you’re curious). Everywhere – here at the table, there in the garden, beyond through the houses, up in the grey sky, and down along the cloudy water – is a sense of calm and peace and tranquillity. Except for last night.

Last night, after a successful stewing of goulash over the fire pit (and after eating that tasty goulash), a storm kicked up that put me in the mood for some night-time wonder. Zsolt and I (wise or unwise) headed to the lake side and watched the lightening streak across the far off northern shore. And ten meters away, on our southern shoreline, the water crashed into the rocks – while Balaton might be shallow (shallow, but very wide) there’s no way I’d have been enticed into that water.

The storm was, in short, magnificent.

I love to be overpowered by nature, made to feel small – and yet, and yet totally plugged in. Like I took my personal plug and inserted it into the storm’s crazy energy socket. You know what I mean? It’s a feeling of awe and wonder and fascination.  Almost spiritual.

Sometimes it’s good to be reminded that we are small, and the world is big. I cannot exactly say why, but that is my sense. It’s a beautiful thing (and very fitting for the gothic horror novel I’m currently reading, The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins).

Anyhow, after deciding the storm was a little too intense for safety standards, Zsolt and I retreated from the beach and I scribbled everything down in my journal. Now there’s probably a touch of Mr Collins’ voice in this description (because I absorb other people’s styles like a sponge), but I think it might actually fit the scenario.

Here is the Balaton storm, painted through words and jotted down in my journal, in the epistolary format of Mr Collins.

“We stood at the lakeside as my sweet Balaton turned into a churning mass of storm – wind gusting at near hurricane speeds against our faces (and bodies, and trees, and huts, and shore) as lightening cracked and crawled along the northern shoreline behind the Badacsony hills. Amazing! It’s awesome to witness a developing storm – awesome with the incredible power and force. Loved every second (despite being scared the waves would suck us up into the froth). It was an experience, inside and out. Awesome, absolutely Awesome.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a great storm. (blame it on the UK fizz and permanently mild weather)

There’s no particular reason I’m sharing this with you today, except that beautiful things ought to be shared. And last night was truly spectacular.  Sometimes we need to feel small. Sometimes we need to be awed. Sometimes we (I) need to plug into a higher power, whatever that may be.

Budapest: a great night out

Posted in Fun, Life, Travel by

Before myMonday post, I’d just like to say that Friday night was fantastic. FANTASTIC. We began at this hole-in-the-wall Slovakian restaurant behind the Hungarian Parliament and ate some truly delicious food. It was jammed packed with flavour. Cami ordered something off of the menu that no one recognized, which translated to her plate – it was like a pork pancake, combining potatoes, meat, cheese, sour cream and gravy.

After the food we stuck around the restaurant and had some drinks (couldn’t get a tea, settled for a milky coffee instead) and some friends came by to meet up.

I love meeting up with Zsolt’s friends in Hungary. These are people who I’ve known as long as I’ve known Zsolt – actually, I met them before I met Zsolt (exclusively) and there hasn’t been an instance where we haven’t had fun together.  Therefore, we were a happy table of laughter and good times. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, because last summer all plans of a Hungarian visit were cancelled (duh) and last Christmas I was lucky enough to fly home to Canada.

Turns out that one of them – you know who you are – reads my blog frequently and uses it to improve her English. Wonderful, eh? I’d like to say a big “Hello, Szia!” if she’s reading this today.  Maybe that’s a good idea for me as well. Can anyone recommend some easy Hungarian blog to follow? There must be a million to choose from. It might be a good learning experience for me as well.

And after the restaurant we headed out in search of a nightclub. Honestly, this was my favourite part of the evening. Trolling around Budapest, passing the hen parties in the Octagon, stopping at every fast-food joint available (complete with bouncers at the door, things must get crazy in Budapest if even McDonalds needs a boncer), and just having a laugh. It was great.

Eventually we ended up at this club called Instant, which was really cool and I’d definitely recommend it, but their main disco was closed for the evening, so we ditched Instant (because Friday was set with a mission to DANCE/TÁNCOL) and caught a tram across town.

(By this point I was nearing a state of sleep-walker, but we hadn’t even started dancing yet, so there was no way I was going to call it a night).

Eventually we settled at this outdoor disco on (I think) Margaret Island. It was huge, the night was warm, the music was loud.  Tick off my box to ‘go dancing’ because finally, finally, finally I had my chance for fun. Geez, eh. Things have come a long way, and I’m so thankful my body has recovered so well.

It was a fantastic night. Fantastic. So to preface tomorrow’s post (authors are allowed to do this, we can preface anything with an explanation if we want, because it’s our story to tell), Friday night was wonderful – everything I’d hoped for and more.

Have a lovely Sunday.

OH MY GOODNESS. It’s father’s day.

Ok, PS. Today is father’s day, and I’ve yet to call my Dad. However, it was in my plans, and I will do it right now. Dad, you are awesome, as you know, and I’m lucky to be your daughter (and I don’t even mind that people constantly say I look so much like you, even though you’re totally a man.) Have a wonderful day, and I hope a garr bites your line – that’d probably be the very best father’s day gift you could receive. Fingers crossed. 😉