Winter Fairytale – 1

The moment we decided we were going to Slovenia, we searched for pictures of how the country looks in the winters. Everyone knows the beauty of the Yugoslavian remnants in the summer; to visit them in the dead of European winters was adventurous, some told us, and really, really stupid, assured others.

Warmed by Wine, or Water

My friend and I woke up late. While most of our days in Hungary had been peppered with incessant activity (my beloved walking tour being one such activity), our agenda for this afternoon consisted only of things we may previously have imagined ourselves doing in another life – perhaps one in which we were genteel, rather wealthy, and used the word ‘summer’ as a verb.

An Ode to Wine

I drink her when she’s pretty,

Glowing ruby, smooth, she’s deathly bloody,

In my home or in a new and starry city.

Slice of Serenity

When we reached the station, we were greeted with oppressive heat and isolation to match it. Our shuttle was nowhere on the horizon, even though it was scheduled to arrive soon. We parked ourselves onto a grassy knoll nearby, feeling a little nervous about our decision.

The City of Pretty

My friend and I woke up at an ungodly hour to catch the first train out. We had packed our staple out-and-about lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, bananas, and huge red strawberries.

Lazy Lager

The large, glass-walled cafe was the first thing we saw as the ferry pulled onto the shore. It had snowed the previous night and the ground was covered in barely-there crystals, melting fast under the noon heat. We had tickets to go up the observation tower next to the cafe, but found ourselves edging closer…

Lazy Lager

The large, glass-walled cafe was the first thing we saw as the ferry pulled onto the shore. It had snowed the previous night and the ground was covered in barely-there crystals, melting fast under the noon heat.