After we finished our morning snack and exhausted our internet time, the rain had not ceased, but the day was slipping away, so we covered up, and set out on an adventure. I don't think we necessarily had a destination, we just found a direction we hadn't been and off we slushed. One of the places we stumbled upon was this second rate mall, the stores included a used bookstore, a travel agency, a briefcase store, and a few other nameless boutiques that were closed anyway, that was about it. We browsed in the book shop for a few minutes then realized there was nothing exciting about this place and headed back into the main corridor that lead to the exit when we looked up and realized how extraordinary it truly really was.
There are so many wonderful treasures in the most unexpected places in Europe. We ventured on, doing a little more shopping, I picked up the token tourist memorabilia for my family; the baseball caps, lighters, magnates, etc, all things that you can expect as a stocking stuffer from me. The rain was still unrelenting, but we pushed on, a finding historic looking building which we attempted to enter, but it was locked up tight. This was getting silly, we were soaked, that was when I saw a beacon of luminescent loveliness, otherwise known as "the perfect cafe". Ashlee was less thrilled than I at the prospect of claiming that window table for three overlooking the main thoroughfare, I guess she wasn't in a cafe mood. Actually Ashlee was a bit angsty that whole day, I think the rain was damping her mood (excuse the pun, my father must have suddenly possessed my body temporarily). It was true there was no patio seating, but it was raining, so the point was moot. As I pulled the glass door open, an overwhelming smell of pastries, presumably made on the premises, ensconced me. The furniture was pristine eggshell white...everywhere, from the comfortable Ikea armchairs to the velvet loveseats, each partnered with an classic marble top round cafe table or coffee table. Attractive, fashionable people were sprawled about comfortably, involved spirited conversation, the occasional cosy embrace, and few with stoic visages starring out the window clearly with their thoughts elsewhere. Was this my version of Heaven?! Was I dead and gone, if so, this seemed a suitable place to spend all eternity! When I think I have found a candidate for the perfect cafe designation, it best to order something truly indulgent, as this is the most accurate measure of it's perfection. "Are you ready to order?" "One cream brullet, a single espresso, and a cup if hot water on the side, please". (I can't trust Europeans to make a proper Americano, who cares that they bloody invented it!) Even in the grandest cafe on the planet, I couldn't risk there being ignorant barrista having power to sully the perfect cafe's reputation in my eyes.
I had procured a fashion magazine at some point during the day, and I gleefully sipped my Man.D-made Americano and cracked into my cream brullet and snapped of a square of dark chocolate which accompanies my beverage with the sheer contentment as the rain continued to coat streets outside and tickle the plate glass window at my side. I lazed in my perfectly proportioned armchair with my friends, my magazine and my treats, thinking that life doesn't get any better than this.
I was in no hurry to to go, after spending an hour in the greatest cafe on the planet, but Ashlee and Mylo were eager to do and see more. We continued in search of something exciting, a museum maybe or other weather friendly activities. We looked at some more buildings, bought a few more things, but ultimately we gave-up and decided to just find a pub and throw back a few pints. We found a nice spot and actually sat in an interesting window cubbie, it was open to the outside, but was covered and enclosed by an awning and plastic tarp. So it was sort of enclosed only offered a severely obstructed view of the walking street out front. Our waitress was friendly, as there were few customers she joined in our conversation intermittently, focusing most of her attention on Mylo. After a few rounds, we ordered the special, soup and a sandwich of some kind, and called it dinner. Ashlee and I were taking a late flight to Brussels in a few hours, while Mylo would spend another day in Budapest before flying back to the United States. We tried to enjoy the remainder of our time together, laughing, and reminiscing, talking about the future, bitching about relationships, knowing that we would most likely never all be together again. Knowing that it seemed fairly accurate to say that our paths would not cross again without considerable effort, we didn't make any promises to reunite. It wasn't sad, it was life, and we each had one to get back to, which was a nice feeling. Ashlee had her sweet job and new flat in France, Janie had already taken the train back to Italy, Lana and Fedelio were still sleeping under the stars at the rock festival before heading back to Spain, Mylo had job lined up in South Carolina and a girl he had meet just before he left that he seemed increasing more motivated to get back to, and I was in love, a word that hasn't been in my vocabulary in a very long time. It was destined to fall apart on the basis of my inability to stay in one place for a convenient length of time, but for that moment, I still had faith in the prospects of having it all. That might be what I have missed most in the nearly two years that have passed since that day. Making the most of everyday and sucking every nanosecond of excitement out of each daily discovery, and trusting that he would be there when I was done gallivanting around Europe.
Later that night we returned to the hostel for the last time, I felt a wee bit tipsy but completely satisfied with the time in the land of the natural hot spring water fountains, killer Carpathian valley allergies, the fabulous fudlare, the menicing mosquitos and spiders, the two Arizonias, the Octagon, the dictators, the random squators, the Turkish bathhouses, the silly students, the cabbies and their smoking breaks, the cold cherry soup, the disappearing hostel, the Beaver, the goulash, the slow sticky train rides, the chained cow, the old fashion school bell, the bicycle traffic, the gypsy market, and the endless expanse of paprika and sunflowers stretching as far as the eye can see. I can't imagine the summer of 2007 without all of those elements.
-Fin-
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