EIGHT YEARS LATER - A PILGRIMAGE
Earlier in the year I had itchy feet and wanted to go away for a break. Not necessarily for an exhibition. Just to get away. But where? I looked up at a photo of my Mother taken during our last little holiday before she left us. "That's it! Budapest!" We had walked a great deal on those few days but I had very little recollection of what we had seen. Budapest it would be.....Budapest it was. The plane was full of Hungarians. On our approach, we suddenly swooped up into the air again, many of us banged our head on the seats in front and ooohhhs and ahhhss were heard in the plane. The captain announced that there was a severe storm in Budapest. We were to fly to Bratislava, refuel and return when the storm had cleared. I felt sorry for the Hungarians as the announcement was only made in English and French. When we landed, there was a scramble to leave the aircraft, only to be told that no-one could get off. So I lost a half day. When we finally arrived in Budapest, the