Doorways

Early in the morning we set out to find some breakfast before the day became too hot. I wish I had a picture of the bakery we found. We ate knots of pastry dough filled with farmers' cheese and raisins and crescents filled with poppy seeds and swirls of hazelnut and cinnemon and we saved the long twists covered in pumpkin seeds and cheese and salt for later. As we made our way back home we passed a doorway that was open and filled with puppets hung up like rows of drycleaning waiting for the woman at the sewing machine to attend them. When she saw us, she pulled open the gate and let the marionettes down from their hangers. I know she wanted to make the children smile, but it was so overwhelming to suddenly have a small geisha flirting with you in Hungarian and a small turn of the century gentleman growing bored of you, crossing his legs and sitting on the puppeteer's bare foot. It was just one of those moments when your mind is trying to tread water but you are floating away. It is one of my favorite moments from the trip. We walked home and went to bed.