Very often in life we experience losses. We loose many things: Time, chances, keys, even bits of life itself. Today I’ve lost a friend: Maybe the rain pouring down here is just the sky weeping for him. Our friendship was born as a consequence of funny question that he placed during a meeting in Faversham. He looked like a boy and a boy he was, even at 51.
Moray Aitken was a mean man, but he died and he’s now become light. Thanks for all the affection you’ve given to me and for your precious advices about how to live, eat and travel light on this river that’s life. Time can be eternal when it’s lived with attention.
Our days in Obuda (an area in Budapest) have been endless. With many happy encounters: The Wiking marina who hosted us, George and his good things, the daily visits of James and Stephan, the two travellers.
Also, we could attend to a music festival where I felt the Balkans coming. Great talent, musical and crazy life. Two youngsters perform traditional dances from Puszta, the great plain between Hungary and Serbia where you can still see a world made of horses, nature and a wide sky. (more…)