"You should never curse anything that is falling from the skies."
I've recently read that in a book. I couldn't agree more, and yet Peter is telling me that I constantly complain about the weather...

Go East... where the skies are blue

Back from a very relaxing weekend in Hungary. Where the sun was shining, birds were singing and the rivers were getting dangerously full.

They call it "little Danube"

In that street is the house where Sándor Petőfi lived when he was in town. We like to call him "the Hungarian Botev", and respectively Botev is "the Bulgarian Petőfi"

 

 The place where Peter's father goes fishing. He is one of those passionate fishermen that don't miss a day. And if it's freezing outside, he just makes a hole in the ice.