On The Write Path

One can leave home without leaving home... said the Bard.

In the last two days I visited Hungary, Syria and Lithuania before taking a flight home from Poland.

It started in Buda... or was it Pest?

Yesterday I talked to a lady feeding cats, visited the grandeur that once was Buda... and still is. I crossed the bridge to Margaret Island and watched the musical fountain for what seemed like hours. It must've been only 45 minutes.



We talked about how BudaPest was a blue dot in a sea of red. How people's fears made no sense. How a lack of education and contact with the outside world may be a factor. It sounded familiar.

But today it was Syria and harissa (basbousa) made with coconut, yoghurt and pistachios. I washed it down with coffee. The coffee didn't need sugar.

No photo! Therefore no evidence other than crumbs. It was a short but pleasant visit.

Then, it was off to Lithuania to talk about Vilnius, Šiauliai, and the Hill of Crosses. Jonasz sells sheep cheese and lamb. He was out of curds. But... he knew about donkey milk! He smiled when I mentioned pink soup. Lithuanians seldom smile.



We spoke about some people prefer cash, others plastic. Poland is plastic it seems; Berlin is cash. Tomorrow it would be nice to visit Wrocław before taking my flight from Warszawa. We shall see.

Note: I may not have left town for over a year but thanks to meeeting a Hungarian at an art show last evening and men from Syria and Lithuania at the farmer's market I felt like I had. I've actually been to Budapest and Lithuania. Unfortunately, not Syria.

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