With age comes wisdom...aye right!
This week I learned that if you want to become US President you must be at least 35 years old.
To become a senator, you must be 30. To join Congress, 25.
Incredibly, these are the ages when a person is adjudged to be mentally sound and mature enough to handle the pressures of these positions.
You couldn’t make it up! Love him or loathe him, “mentally sound and mature” are not words I would ever associate with President Donald Trump.
Maybe there should be a maximum age to hold office, too, here and in the US. The younger generation certainly couldn’t do any worse than those we have in power.
Our cheery airport taxi driver was merely trying to make polite conversation, bless him.
“Szia Donald úr, Üdvözlünk Budapest. Is ez az els alkalom Magyarországon?”
Eh? Run that by me again, please! Much to my relief, he did so, but this time in English: “Welcome to Budapest, Mr Donald. Is this your first time in Hungary?”
Well it was, and hopefully it won’t be my last time. Because Budapest was brilliant.
So much so, my wife and I agreed we would return in a heartbeat if ever given the chance.
I had my doubts when I initially booked the trip. As romantic holiday destinations go, Budapest didn’t seem to figure in the same league as Paris, Rome, Vienna or Prague.
Thinking it would be cold, dirty and austere, still trying to shake off its communist hangover... How wrong could I be?
Budapest was a revelation. A traveller’s delight!
Cosmopolitan, clean, modern and cool, relaxed to the point it almost felt bohemian.
The autumn sun shone, the views were as spectacular as they were magical, especially those looking to and from the UNESCO world heritage site of the Buda Castle Quarter and the neo-gothic turrets and terraces of Fisherman’s Bastion, the Danube glittering day and night.
As for its bars and restaurants?
Well, they too were absolutely fantastic.
But there was, for a short time, a pest in Budapest! And his initially low-key arrival