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It took me longer than planned to complete the trilogy. But here's the third and final instalment of my photographs of Parisi Udvar in Budapest, Hungary.
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I previously shared my fortuitous experience visiting the arcade with my parents in May 2012. That piece includes information about the architecture and history of the building.
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mum at christmas
in the arcade [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
In May 2012, I flew to Budapest to meet with my parents, who were travelling through Europe.
We stayed in a small hotel, the Leo Panzió, on Ferenciek tere, near the metro station of the same name, not far from Erzsébet híd (Elizabeth Bridge).
On our first full day exploring the city, we started out slowly, each capturing the street and architecture near our hotel with our cameras.
Soon after venturing out, a fellow approached my dad, seeing the three of us with our cameras in hand and furiously snapping away.
I still don't know if the fellow was homeless or just a random passerby. I didn't speak to him much myself until the end of our 'tour' and, as we followed him into the building, I won't lie: alarm bells were quietly going off in my head for us as three non-Hungarian tourists, including two women, following some random guy into a building.
Maybe it was all my parents' teachings about "stranger danger" coming up from childhood, the knowledge that many tourists are scammed while travelling, or simply being a woman and aware that following strange men into unfamiliar places is not recommended.
Nevertheless, my dad was less cautious. And I will always be thankful for his trust in this fellow and what the fellow showed us that we would otherwise likely never have discovered.
We had been photographing the exterior of what had been known as Brudern-ház (Brudern House). It was rebuilt as the headquarters of the Belvárosi Takarékpénztár (the Downtown Savings Bank) starting in 1909 and contains the Párizsi udvar ('Parisi udvar' according to the signage on the building).
bőrdismű | bortáska [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
Google translates 'Párisi udvar' to 'Parisian courtyard', but 'Párizsi udvar' translates to 'Paris Court' and seems more commonly used. Based on the place and information from Wikipedia, the arcade was modelled on Parisian arcades, specifically, the Passage des Panoramas, and it incorporates Indian, Islamic and Moorish elements.
The building's architect, Henrik Schmahl, died in 1912 while undergoing intestinal surgery before the building's completion. Pál Lipták, the building's construction manager, oversaw the completion of the building.
When we followed the fellow through the fancy entrance with MCMIX written above it, we found ourselves in a mostly vacant, partially derelict but extravagantly beautiful former shopping arcade.
műtárgy-szőnyeg [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
Signage told us the arcade used to house a store selling fine carpets. Another store sold leather goods, and another sold gold jewellery.
However, in May 2012, the arcade housed very little for sale.
arany-ekszer [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
It did, however, house a grand interior replete with lifts, telephone booths, ornate staircases, a magnificent ceiling, mosaic flooring, and classic shopfronts facing into the arcade and onto the street.
There were broken glass panels and some graffiti, but most of the arcade still seemed to be in a relatively good state. Little visible to us appeared to be unsafe.
10472 [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
The blue modern payphones were incongruous in their booths. But time had marched on in Budapest, and time had since continued its forward march beyond the usefulness of public telephones with the prevalence of mobile phones.
Despite still feeling a little nervous about whether we had walked into a trap for tourists, I snapped away in every direction, in thrall with my surroundings.
haris köz [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
After we had seen and photographed our fill and my dad had tipped our impromptu tour guide for his advice, we moved on. But the place stayed in my mind.
So much so that, a couple of years later, watching an episode of Penny Dreadful, I was overcome by déja vu as Vanessa Ives entered a shop in an arcade. It took me mere moments to realise where the scene was filmed.
It was lovely to see the arcade appear lovingly restored and close to the appropriate period (the opening narrative of Penny Dreadful takes place in 1891, and the building was completed in 1913).
Over the years, I've spoken with friends about it and discussed the place and the circumstances of our visit there with my dad.
A while back, I went to seek the building out on Google Street View and discovered the building had been restored and is now a five-star Hyatt hotel.
As much as perhaps that isn't my ideal outcome for its restoration, they've retained much of the arcade's glory in the refurbishment, and I'm pleased to see it's found a new lease on life.
Despite knowing the arcade's name for all this time, I only translated it as part of composing this post. In doing so, I was reminded of the writings of a German philosopher, Walter Benjamin, about Parisian arcades, Arcades Project, which I read about in a book titled Psychogeography that my friend, Phil, gifted me.
untitled #28 [parisi udvar, budapest, hungary, 2012]
I thought it interesting that Henrik Schmahl, a German-born architect living in Hungary, decided to 'import' a Parisian arcade to Budapest.
Hopefully, one day, I'll return to Budapest to lounge in the hotel foyer with a cocktail and admire the work done to restore a gorgeous interior.
Perhaps one day, I'll also have the funds to stay in one of the rooms in the hotel to get the complete experience.
Either way, it was a highly fortuitous and unforgettable experience during our holiday.
I thank whoever that fellow was who saw us and wanted to share his knowledge of his city with us avid photographers. I will forever be grateful that, despite my initial reservations, my dad followed a random man into a seemingly abandoned building. I hope that fellow will understand and forgive my hesitation.
things of stone and wood [itchenor, west sussex, england, 2021]
with friends like these, who needs anemones? [marvels wood, bromley, london, england, 2022]
new lipchis way [itchenor, west sussex, england, 2021]
A marker in Itchenor for the New Lipchis Way, a walking trail linking Liphook and Chichester Harbour.
untitled #27 [camber sands, east sussex, england, 2016]
Despite visiting Camber Sands with friends on such a lovely day with perfect weather, albeit a bit windy, I barely took in my surroundings. I only captured a handful of photographs with my dSLR and my iPhone.
And some of those iPhone photos were taken while I sat in the car with my mind elsewhere.
Specifically: on the outcome of the Brexit referendum, which had taken place the previous day.
untitled #23 [camber sands, east sussex, england, 2016]
I'd stayed up into the wee hours keeping an eye on updates but had finally succumbed to sleep before the result was confirmed.
I woke up a couple of hours later and checked the news on my phone. Seeing the headlines, I tossed my phone on the bed in disgust, went to the bathroom, and then returned to a fitful sleep, brought on by my disappointment and disbelief.
untitled #26 [camber sands, east sussex, england, 2016]
My mood hadn't lifted over breakfast. It wasn't helped by our B&B hosts being unashamedly pleased with the outcome. Phil and I both struggled to contain our frustrations out of politeness to our otherwise welcoming hostess.
untitled #21 [camber sands, east sussex, england, 2016]
Even now, my disappointment over the decision for Britain to exit the European Union is still present. It's reinforced every time the current Conservative government takes the Overton Window further and further to the right.
The political situation in the UK, US and Australia had already been heading that way for at least two years. But I feel Brexit was the beginning of an even more accentuated move away from common sense toward the politics of Drumpf and beyond.
And it doesn't seem to be swinging back anytime soon, unfortunately.
untitled #22 [camber sands, east sussex, england, 2016]
...and a shed in the back [minera, wales, united kingdom, 2021]
I took these photos in October last year when I was in Minera, Wales, cat-sitting Meg and Mog for friends.
In a few days, I'll be cat-sitting Meg and Mog again, but it will be in a village a short distance south of Bedford.
When I went to Minera, it was because Meg and Mog's mothers were house-hunting for a new home within a more manageable commuting distance from London. They had previously been neighbours living at the other end of my street.
I'm hoping to head back to north Wales sometime this summer. But with my health issues making travel nerve-wracking at the moment, Cotton End will be a chance to test the waters, the effectiveness of my new meds and, hopefully, get my mojo back.
untitled #51 [minera, wales, united kingdom, 2021]
Cotton End is a shorter journey from my home than Bromley, where I stayed last weekend to cat-sit Sammy, Lily and Poppy. While I was there, I chose not to venture out much. Literally, two supermarket runs less than ten minutes walk from the house.
Unfortunately, the mercury is set to soar this coming week. That will make going out less appealing for me. But I hope to get out at least a little with my camera.
If possible, I'll also meet up with a friend and her mother who live in Bedford. But it will depend on their schedule and health.
ballroom blitz [bletchley park mansion, bletchley, buckinghamshire, england, 2022]
The ballroom at Bletchley Park.
untitled #22 [bletchley park mansion, bletchley, buckinghamshire, england, 2022]
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untitled #23 [bletchley park mansion, bletchley, buckinghamshire, england, 2022]
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untitled #9 [bosham, west sussex, england, 2021]
Tonight was the calm, creative and productive evening I had hoped to have last night.
Something I desperately needed after an unexpectedly stressful and emotional 24+ hours.
Tonight was an evening spent editing photos, sharing work here with you and listening to my illuminations playlist followed by Dubstar's latest album, Two.
For much of the evening, I've enjoyed the company of a brimstone moth who you can see on my Instagram, chilling on my desk. S/he's nestled in a crook of the hutch on my desk as I type this.
I guess if I don't have cat-sitting therapy this month, then at least I have the calming company of a pretty moth. Though initially, s/he had the 'zoomies' around my monitor :P
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And here's the final season's grievings image for 2021!
I hope you've enjoyed these again this year.
Let me know in the comments if you think I should continue sharing these in December 2022, or if you've had enough of this curated series!
locked out
So today, continuing the theme for the year, the result for the PCR test I took yesterday came back positive for Covid-19.
Because, of course.
Though, hilariously, because of everything else that's already happened this year, somehow, this is the least upsetting or disappointing piece of news I've received in the past seven to eight months.
It just seems like another piece of the puzzle that is my 2021.
Thank Science, I'd already had one dose of the vaccine, so the worst of it already seems to have passed.
No thanks to all the English football fans on the Tube on Sunday shouting 'It's coming home!' at the top of their lungs. While wearing masks around their necks instead of over their massive gobs.
Even with all my obsessive hand-sanitising, masking and not touching a damned thing while commuting, I'm sure that's where I caught it. And based on my symptoms, I'd lay bets it was the much more contagious (but, thankfully, less deadly) Delta strain.
Amusingly, today, as I completed the NHS Test and Trace documentation after receiving my results, I realised I have, in fact, lost my sense of smell. Though not my sense of taste.
To confirm this, I:
sniffed heavily of my dried thyme (which has been my go-to for checking for covid previously),
stuck my nose into a large jar of peanut butter, and
sniffed rosemary and oregano in their bottles.
All registered a complete blank for scent.
Despite not having showered since leaving the flat at 11:30 yesterday to go for the PCR test, further confirmation has been provided by my apparent lack of body odour at 19:00 the next day. Anyone who knows me and knows how I sweat in 26-degree heat (yesterday's temperature), especially after walking for more than 90 minutes, knows this is a physical impossibility. My sense of smell has definitely left the building.
And, I guess, so has my shock and indignation at anything 2021 has left to throw at me.
double-crossed [yan yean cemetery, yan yean, victoria, australia]
lean into it
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