The capital with the eye of an expat

In search of colour

Standing 22.4 metres (73 ft) underground on the platform for the M4 metro in Kálvin tér in the nation’s capital recently, a strange feeling came over me.

The capital with the eye of an expat

Taking to the streets of Budapest

One of the most inspiring aspects of today’s globalisation is the sheer diversity of our world.

The capital with the eye of an expat

Giving helps

As 2023 draws to a close, I, for one, won’t be sad to see the back of it. I’m feeling a little detached from reality. Skimming through the headlines, my media feed has nothing but bad news. The world seems to be spiralling out ...

The capital with the eye of an expat

Silent witnesses

In conversation with Dorottya Szalay recently, I asked her what I could expect were I to call NANE’s helpline – ‘First of all’, she said, ‘We would believe you.’

The capital with the eye of an expat

Life is too short to lack colour

‘Michael Gambon is dead’, he said. ‘I was there when he first set eyes on E. It was like seeing lightning strike.’

The capital with the eye of an expat

Tard: A stitch in time

In the many road trips I’ve taken around Hungary, the same questions always come to mind. Why isn’t more being done to capitalise on the wealth of talent in the villages? Why is almost everything city-centred?

The capital with the eye of an expat

The Voice of the Martians

György Marx was everything I have never aspired to be: a physicist, an astrophysicist, a science historian, and a professor. Okay, I’d have liked to have been a professor, but not in science subjects. Google tells me that he discovered the lepton numbers and ...

The capital with the eye of an expat

The Albanian Riviera: New builds and daydreamers

I like to think that I can spot potential. In plans. In people. In property. Especially in property. I’m not for a minute suggesting that I know the real estate market and know where to invest to get the best return. I’m clueless in ...

The capital with the eye of an expat

Art is so marmite

Someone once told me that their birthday was on 16 June. Ah, I said, you were born on Bloomsday. They looked at me, cluelessly. In explaining what I meant, I realised that I was innately proud of a man I’d never met and a ...