Nostalgia

Last weekend, I spent a day in the city, where I grew up...

 It is always an interesting, kind of ambivalent feeling, because as a teenager I hated living there. 

Our family (my father and my mother as well) were from a different city, and I always felt an outsider there. Now, looking back, the feeling might have been more about me (as a grewn up, living elsewhere I still often feel as an outsider), than with the city.

Whenever I go back (which is not often, though), I see the beauty of the city, I love many parts of it, I love walking around there, and wonder, how would it feel to live in a particular part or another, especially the banks of either river, that runs together at the center of the city.

I gone there to take a lacemaking lesson, which was a great opportunity to take out my lacemaking stuff, which I have not used in quite a few months.

While Norbert went over to see the aviation museum, which holds one of the small aircafts my father designed and built. 

After that we walked around and saw stuff, like a duck's butt...

And a part of the Tisza-banks where I've never been... or at least I do not remember. When I was small we often walked a lot around with my father, so it could be that we did walk around this part as well, but as a teenager I did not.

Seeing the rowers made my hear beat a little bit faster, because as a young teen I was also a rower (would you have thought that of me?), and so many times I rowed upriver like that.

The rosegarden is gorgeous, as every spring and early summer, but I just cannot forgive where it is. 

Back, when I was living there, there was a publing pool and strand there, yes, in the middle of the city, I learned to swimm there, and that place witnessed of many events of my teenage years. Then instead of spending money on renovating it, they simply bulldosed it down. So, however beautiful that park and the roses, I always feel bitter.

There is a synagogue, which holds exhibitions, and the sculpture that I already shown you a few years ago... It is actually a WWI memento, but everybody calls it "the Naked Butt" and you can see why.

There are two bridge in the city just for walkers, one across the smaller river (now, with the low water levels it looks hardly a creek, but when the spring rains run down from the far away mountains, it can get prety high) Zagyva. Back then I loved that bridge, and I was so sorry to see in the last few years to see it closed down, but this year, it was renovated and reopened. Hurray.

The other one is across the bigger river, Tisza, which did not existed, when I lived there.

Last year, there was a point, when it seemd, I might just have to go there more often, for a job, and I was actually happy about that.... Unfortunately then nothing came out of it, and I was sorry for that.

(Photos: Norbert Varga @Bodeszphoto)