when i travel i become a complete night owl. for example right now it's nearly 1 am and i'm wide away having just finished working in my travel journal. in the light of the early evening i sat out on the balcony and wrote everything i could remember about my day.
about attending the hungarian festival of folk art up on castle hill.

about wandering the cobbled paths snaking over the castle grounds. booth after booth of master craftspeople from craft unions, craft schools, and guilds all over the carpathian basin.
hungary of course, but also special guests from lithuania, latvia, and estonia. oh eastern europe where have you been all my life?

the festival towered over the banks of the blue danube. i kept going over to the palace walls and gazing off into the distance. at the water and bridges. at the city sprawled over the hills.

i kept wanting to slap someone or myself and say, "can you believe this?! isn't it awesome?" because you know, really really...it WAS.
every crafty second of it.
there were lace makers, embroiders, woodworkers, felters. so so many craftspeople. and there were workshops where they eagerly taught their skills to anyone who was interested in learning and trying.
i felt my journey to budapest deepening
growing richer.

this sweet man patiently showed me how to use the 2 handmade whistles i bought from him. i'm going to be sort of annoying to be around for awhile LA friends. just sayin'
i really want you to come to budapest. it's so magnificent. some of you need no encouragement, but some of you might be nervous or timid. it's YOU i want to encourage. i will send you a special badge of courage to sew onto your shirt.
don't be afraid of getting lost, or not knowing the language. it's okay to be lost. someone will set you back on the right track. someone else will hear you struggle with words and will jump in to help. you will feel brave, wonderous, alive.
you might be rescued.
today a stout white-haired hungarian woman put a lightening-fast steel grip on my upper arm and yanked me back from the tram tracks! I had absent-mindedly started to cross with a tram 20 feet away. i must have been thinking about cream cakes.

there was strudel. every kind you can imagine and some you can't.
dough rolled onto hot irons and turned over the coals. then taken out and rolled in cinnamon & sugar and other things.
and beer. lots of beer. i want!

and of course i was ravenous and needed a big half circle of sausage and scoop of mustard to go with. each succulent bite better than the last. i stood up at a tall table to eat.
i kept roaming. bought some great gifts and a few things for myself. the prices were unbelievable and the quality impeccable.

found this drawstring bag the perfect size for my travel journal. those are my whistles on top.

i meandered down the hill. jumped on a bus that magically landed me at the exact right bridge to catch the tramline home. and this time i didn't stray onto the tracks. my sister arrives in the morning! i'm leaving the apartment extra early to walk to get hot fresh strudel that comes highly recommended. will have coffee & strudel all set up on the balcony table when carol arrives!