Return to Budapest

“The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. A parable.”

Nietzche

Saturday

It rained overnight. Every time I woke, the sound of rain put me back to sleep. Something so simple, so common, holds so much value when it is taken away.

Breakfast at Beňovský Bistro & Market and then we are on the road.

Not an eventful trip.

The Pies beat Carlton in Pendlebury’s 400th game.

We drop the whip off and head into Budapest and there is a sense of finality about the drive from the airport. Most people want a trip to last forever, but most of the time I find something to get excited about when a holiday concludes.

Not this time. I realise that returning to Dubai is tinged with dread. The relentless heat, the absence of anything other than sand. No rain, no trees, just oppressive, unrelenting heat. And sand.

Shell takes a nap and I read my book.

It is time for dinner. Our reservation looks average but it takes us near the wine bar we love. MyWine.

Two whites and two reds before we head for dinner at LR Italian.

We ordered a LeVolte Toscana but they are sold out. Our waiter lets us know he has an alternative, a 2011 Montepulciano D’abruzzo.

For starters, we order bruschetta and mussels. For mains, tagliatelle with duck ragù and duck leg with potatoes.

The food is excellent, and the wine is outstanding.

It is a cool night, a slight breeze. A perfect European summer evening. Dubai seems an eternity away.

We stroll home.

Tomorrow is our last night in Budapest.

“A person’s destiny often ends before his death.”

Milan Kundera