By now, undoubtedly, it is fall. Meteorological, seasonal, visible. We saw the first traces when we found chestnuts on Margit Sziget, and soon thereafter, leaves started to cover the pavements. Leaves from trees we hadn’t even noticed yet because they were hidden behind fences and walls, away from the street, so as not to ruin the urban outlook of Budapest. When my brother visited last weekend, autumn showed his colder shoulder, with bright sunshine, making it impossible to dress right. We spent these days sightseeing. Freezing in the aisles of Ecseri Fleamarket on the city’s outskirts, and enjoying the sun outside, where the stands were empty because it was Friday. Ecseri is probably best and most impressive on the weekends, but the glimpses we saw, the old clothing, street signs, military relicts, toys, lamps, furniture, post cards, cameras, watches, were impressive to ravel through. Not to forget the 20-minute bus ride. It’s hard to believe that you’re still in Budapest when you see the small houses, the fields and factories.
We saw more of the Soviet memory in the House of Terror – where first the Nazis took camp and were executed a few years later when the Soviets arrived and took over the mansion. Right there in Andrassy Utca where I found a paperclip, this beautiful wide road. It gives me shivers to believe how many people died in the basement of this house. It gives me shivers to think about the city in ruins after the war and during the 1956 revolution.
When we were bathing at Szechenyi afterwards, all this seemed so unreal. A people that spend their time reminiscing and playing chess in a body-tempered pool surrounded by cheerful yellow and white squiggles, how did they get through this? How did they bring up the anger to revolt?
What I like about autumn is its smell. The air smells chilly, and fresh, and just somewhat different from September. It’s not downright cold, just chilly, and although it’s only October, I had a lot of forralt bor – hot wine – already. Yesterday the sky was grey, anticipating the rain I woke up to this morning, but it was nice out. It wasn’t too cold and I walked to Astoria. Oddly enough, the circle in which I move around the city appears to become smaller, but I blame it on the shortcuts I find through the mess of streets downtown. Later, Denis and Tim took me to the Corvinus Campus in Buda, to a flower exhibition. Under the sturdy clouded skies, the discolored trees in the arboretum seemed almost to be fluorescent, and the leaves glowed in the most beautiful shades from dark green over yellow to bright pink and red. Gellért hill is not a green spot on the other side of the river anymore. It’s bursting with color. It’s fall.
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