13 july 2005

The buildings in Budapest are Moorish rather than pastel-colored like those in Prague, with reds, oranges and yellows that call to mind the Mediterranean rather than Easter candy.

The Danube in Budapest is wider and milkier than the Vlatava in Prague, and the bridges that span it have four lanes of traffic or six instead of two or none. The Danube is channelized for its whole journey through the city, hemmed in by stone and concrete stairways that set it apart from the ribbons of highway on both sides. The Vlatava has cafes on its banks.

I'm standing on a long white bridge over the Danube right now, watching and feeling a storm blowing in from the east. Behind me the sky is blue but ahead it is gray, and the gray is gradually swallowing the mountains in the distance and then it will swallow the castles on the hills of Buda and then it will swallow the apartments and the tourboats and the unfortunate Marriott of Pest, but I'm not going to stick around for that. Already the wind is blowing my pages and the drops are smearing my words.