It is nearly four months since I last blogged, my Blogger home page informs me. After all those years, I know why I stopped. Work had become so complicated and every day was filled with things that I would never in a million years put on my blog for the world to see. Yet here I am a few months later feeling like I might have a few things to say again.
I left work early today to go and get a parking permit from the local council offices. An hours waiting, followed by a long walk found me at the Alexandria bookshop on Andrassy, the massive new one with a cafe that illicits sighs of wonder at the golden ceiling. Looking for books about other cities, I couldn't find what I was looking for. This is my third year in Budapest, and the time has come to move on. In June, I will move some-where new, I just feel like it is all out in the ether enough to be able to say it on here.
It is incredibly difficult and very exciting being in the phase of looking for new chances and challenges in any number of places. I find that now, as ever, I am drawn back to Paris. Perhaps I have unfinished business with this city, maybe I just want a job I can enjoy and Sundays in the City of Lights. It is possible that Paris is drawing me back in, but there are other places to think about too. What about home? Seven years stand between me and England, time that has made me feel more British than I ever did when I was living there.
One thing is clear, things have to change. Walking home from Alexandria, I passed a small Jewish bookshop that has opened on Klauzal Ter. Gazing past all the tempting, homely books on Jewish cooking I saw this book. Something inside me burst and I could feel myself deflate as I found myself in the midst of a waiting game once again.
