So, um, did I say I was going to do another travelogue later that day? What I meant was, later that year. Yeah. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
So here’s the deal…I’ve had houseguests, flu, health scares, training for my new job, bad dates, and loads of other excuses to deal with. Also, I’ve got about six drafts of blog posts on subjects other than travel percolating in my dashboard. Also also, I’ve done more traveling and have more travel freewrites than I originally planned for.
What I’m trying to say is that I’m going to continue doing travelogues as a regular thing but intersperse them with regular posts. Or as regular as I ever get. Anyway…without further ado, Budapest, Hungary.
Asian white folks? Goulash. Spicy pork. Grilled shark. South African mathematicians. Franz Lizt. Staged piety.
Today’s title comes from here:
…the famously familar piece written by Beethoven for his Hungarian paramour. (That is, if you ask Hungarians.)