Category Archives: BLOG

The essence of being

Extended

The failing virtue

measured by the

rising vice.

Both in place

according to the

guilt complex.

And so a mind

made redundant seeks

to balance

the equation.

In search of

spirituality

it shakes its

heathen flag

against the

grey sky of

an early morn.

Beyond the traffic’s

tempest

there floats to

reason, alms:

the supplication

necessary

through the toxic

fumes.

In search again

in search as

always.

Enlightened I

shall carry

opposites – as questions –

in a gently tightened

fist;

ready to pulse,

to fizz,

to judge.

Ready to open –

extended…

The palm.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Eternity

That death may liberate me

into the brief eternity.

When spiritually inclined,

I’ll fade

And, fundamentally, then

I’m dead:

And all my life before will cease,

and nothing more will exist to me.

At least this, and nothing more.

Nothing else it is I’m looking for.

The rotten truth

the freedom set,

my bones to ashes

will be met,

and cycle, circles,

nowt profound…

Just life itself

in the round and round.

Earth to self and sun

and stars.

What suffering now

Will, no one cares:

But, alas this lesson

yet to learn

for those who hope

in others yearn.

A life once got

ever anon.

A moment spent

too soon is gone.

 

But maybe memory is all.

In cellular derived

and growth

so up again from

ashes drawn.

Up again to

life once more!

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Colourful

On a cold grey balcony
on a cold grey afternoon
sitting snuggly, on
the edge of chill –
with a new grey
cardigan
and a cup of earl grey tea,
a breeze for a second
took my attention from reading.
The tea’s paper tag
‘black tea’ it announced
fluttered in this breeze
on a white window.
The air still and colourless
but grey at its depth –
white and black
all shift to grey –
as I sat back,
reading my book of
short stories.
The briefest of moments
just then captured me
and the slightest of breezes
moved me to think
moved my environment,
The fine hairs on my cheeks;
I felt its freshness
its message.
I was alive.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Along the Way

Along the highways
and the byways
the highroads
and the low,
chasing ill-begotten
dreams
along the swampy
seams of my soul.
Forever searching
feeling lost
the future set
at any cost.
Along the pathways
banks and shores,
I was what now I’ll never know.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

This City

I smell the streets –
They smell me.
We rub up against each other –
Knowingly.
In the shade
The stink still falters,
While in the heat its perfume alters.

The dead, the dying,
The unmoving few
In doorways drink, that’s
Nothing new.
The swank, the silly
The squandered dreams,
Chase behind- unknowingly
on these social seams.
The pretty, the wealthy,
They speak without clue
Of injustice and poverty
– As if they really knew!
The diet of greed
Has led us astray
Each one of us guilty
For it being this way.
Tomorrow again I’ll stalk
Shadows and dreams.
I’ll count myself lucky as ever
As if I know what that means.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Good Marketing

Good Marketing

Set away within the framework interior of the Lehel market building this Fancy* little Cafe has its general appeal. Below on the market floor, the raw meat, and fresh fruit and veg vies for purchase on the punters’ purse strings while on this floor in the environs, cheap clothes and shoes make promises in price that I know from experience they will not keep.

Never mind because if you’ve found yourself with time, maybe with shopping bags weighing you down, this little cafe offers hope in terms of well made coffee.

A polished affair of wood and brass inside, there are also the obligatory metal seats outside and whereas they may not offer the same luxuriant feel they are perched at the railing, overlooking the activities below.

Coffee is freshly ground here and can be bought by the bag as well as enjoyed in brew. Other beverages are also on offer, teas etc., and there are the compulsory marlenkas (layered cakes) on the counter. Sometimes there’s more, sometimes less, but it is a place to pass a while, the atmosphere within the shell of Lehel market building, abounding.

*http://www.fancycafe.hu/

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Pass the Word

Pass the Word

First impressions of Code 7: trendy but determined. This place wants to appeal and in an area around the 3rd district where old town and high-rise clash, and where Spar and büfés often times win the day, it is a chance, methinks, to capitalise on the migratory office staff who work in the district.

It seems to take itself seriously: the breakfast menu is cheap between 7 and 9 am to draw the early birds. About time! Oft times, Pest-side, it has been impossible to find a cooked breakfast before ten.

Well, on entering I firstly noted the friendliness; a smile can so often cushion the blow even in a bad establishment, something the Hungarian service industry is slowly coming to grips with – and I don’t mean 5 star hotels and the like. I mean down on the ground basic joints.

I ordered ham and eggs, and a coffee, and sat to think. The music was on but unintrusive, and, while, not my taste: it was funky not irritating.

Waiting no more than five minutes when a white plate arrived, two yellow eyes peeping up at me, a promise of the ham hidden beneath. Apart from this, two lumps of something similar to potato sat perched on the presentation – fresh bread-rolls as it turned out.

To put it simply – delicious. Well cooked, nothing burnt! – smooth. As they say, the way to a man’s heart… I’m happy. I’ll be back.

Worth Noting: Ham & Eggs at 490huf, with a long coffee and a sparkling water came in at 990huf.

A steal!

Downside: Not exactly townside but if you are in the area give it a shot.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

A blast from the present

A blast from the present

Well, where there is a doc there is medicine, unless you’re computer burdened and can only associate d-o-c with Word. God help us but I think I’m becoming such. Not my fault except, of course, it is. I’ve chosen the medium to continue.

And so I shall.

On Paulay Ede utca leading from Nagmező to Liszt Ferenc tér there is a place by the name of Cafe Zsivágó, and it has all the pretensions to the old world, the old style, the cafes of central Europe as I would have imagined them 100 years ago. It certainly has all the grandeur with the front section reaching to a high ceiling, the paintings along the wall marking the level which is continued by the gallery which runs from behind the counter area to the back of the establishment. A neat little poke of a room hides inside an archway to the left, and upstairs there are available perchings to allow the full experience of watching – intently if you so wish.

Above and over my right shoulder laughter comes, descending. In that little corner, separated from the greater part of upstairs, a couple, almost hidden, have taken up residence. Indeed a cosy affair. Not the place for the boys and the beer I imagine. A bit too sedate. Hot chocolates and laptops are the order of the day, the latter clashing with my fin de siècle illusions. Bloody Mac!

Ah, but a taste of my hot chocolate and all doubt dissipates. Express divinity personified! And even as I write this I salivate for more. Jesus, and I was going to buy a beer. Sometimes the universe chooses for you and here it surely has.

Now I’m still not about to sing the praises of the place in terms of service. I was sitting upstairs and never approached. However, it could be the policy. And sitting down here with a bit of fresh air, courtesy of an open window, coupled with smoke from the shop assistants of the surrounding outlets who somehow need to congregate right there, I am rather content. The music has run from Louis Armstrong to something a lot more classical. This is what I’d expect – not the bleeding WIFI brigade, though I am not a stranger to this myself and so will not here set myself up the hypocrite – but it’s akin to a Chinese takeaway inside the Acropolis – but I guess this is not meant to be old, just old-fashioned, or old-school, or something, and I’m occasionally glancing at my mobile on the table. The illusion is there – the boundaries are yours.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

Whiling away the time

The Clock

Hickery Dickery Dock

Martin went into the clock

The clock struck one

So he had a soup

Hickory Dickory Dock

(A not so traditional children’s rhyme)

This Buda pub, just up the street from the back entrance to Déli train station, on Nagyengyed utca is a comfortable place to find oneself. There isn’t anything too surprising about the prices considering that it advertises itself as a restaurant/pub. The draught beer is all above 500huf. The bottled beer has one under. Guinness, and this is what first attracted me to this place some years ago, has now passed the 1000huf mark. In fact, it’s a little bit more still. But never mind, I wouldn’t recommend it. When I asked for a pint I was told there wouldn’t be any till November; it was a draw* I was unwilling to wait for. Instead I opted for Dreher Bak in the bottle, a potent affair, and perused the menu.

There is a wide selection of the usual Hungarian fare. Meat, in different styles with the usual trimmings. I won’t here elucidate. I was hungry but had not intended to run too high a bill so after flirting with the main courses all in the 1800huf to 2200huf range – steak higher, of course; salads surprisingly not that much lower – I chose a soup. It wasn’t necessary to splash out. I would be heading home in a while and to plenty of food in the fridge. As it was another soup would be waiting for me – thankfully different. What I chose at the Clock was a veal ragout with sour cream. Nice? Yes! Very nice? Hmmm, yes. The best ever? Take it easy!!! I may have to turn into Johnny Depp in “Once Upon A Time In Mexico” if that were to ever happen. In truth, to sum up the dining experience: it was pleasant, efficient, quick as was necessary, and the staff, at least my waitress ‘for today’ was comfortably friendly. By that I mean she didn’t have to try – no fake smile cracking her frown – she was a natural. On good days, on bad, I’m sure she’d have her moods but she struck me, as first, professional.

The place itself is all indoors so forget it if you want the garden-terrace ambiance. Down the street there is a pizzeria place, good as I’ve heard – the verdict is forthcoming, and they have that outdoor appeal. Here it’s enclosed in a typical Irish-y pub feel, the theme here being clocks, the big one looming above, on entering, on the ceiling; the shelves all around covered with them, pictures, wallpaper, real old devices.

The Clock is not short of clocks so if you have a funky phobia, forget it, but if you’re a little malicious and like to set alarm clocks in appliance shops, this may have that quirky appeal, though I haven’t test-driven any of the clocks here on offer so don’t take my word on their functioning.

To the front and left of the entrance runs the bar with a smattering of tables off into the corner while to the right another cluster of tables and chairs. It’s all cosy without being cramped. It is nice. I would recommend it so, if you have the time, and if you don’t, try out The Clock.

*In this case draw means “the draw on the pint” meaning how much has been taken from the keg that particular day.

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

For a song

Rigó Jancsi’s Cukrászda in the 12th district came as a surprise. That a colleague of mine had posted or “checked himself in” there on Facebook was how it came to my attention. You see it’s easy to miss; a poke in all ways, the 4 tables inside overly optimistic given the real floor space, not that the passage way from door and along the L counter is impeded, and I got to see why. Like 2 or 3 others I sat with cake and coffee, but what surprised me was the entertainment in the form of the constant flow of people in and out – and where there are people characters emerge.

Like the Yanks who spoke fluent, at least to my ears, Hungarian but conversed among themselves in English. A reminder of this country’s history of emigration.

But apart from the people the place itself is also worth noting, the business I mean.  Some call the interior retro, I call it old-fashioned. It hasn’t changed much in all the years so it isn’t like it’s tried to look this way. It is original. Not many these days.

The staff is all friendly, engaging people – the banter flows, smiles flashes, and all in the name of top service.

However, people, furnishings, staff and all, it was the prices that took me aback. This is the 12th district so I expected to be drawing blood for little luxuries but at 280huf for a cup of coffee and cake I was more than pleasantly surprised. I was almost suspicious. Something had to give. In truth, it didn’t. The illusion come reality remained with me right out the door and onto this page.

With its selection of pogácsa, cakes and other pastries at prices that would shock the farmer’s daughter   this has become a surprising new favourite, which must be put into perspective considering my history as a beer drinker rather than a cake-eater.

Thumbs up – expectations high.

I hope the next visit will not disappoint!

…it didn’t!!!

(Ad infinitum???)

 

©TheHairyTeacher2013

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