Post-haste

_{I should have asked where this guy was going - it might have been a more effective way to send my mail}

On almost every trip Amynah and have taken in Europe so far, we've made a point of sending postcards to our families. On this trip, we decided to broaden our epistilatory ambitions, and so brought along a list of about twenty addresses of friends and family to whom we intended to send New Year's Greetings.

We only sent a couple from Vienna, and so in Budapest we decided to send about a dozen. Unfortunately, after carefully addressing and composing each one and affixing sufficient postage, we were unable to locate a working postbox (how a box could be out of order is a riddle I will leave to any Magyars in my readership to answer). We were forced to board our train to Prague with a pocketful of posties.

I am a bit of a postal fundamentalist - I firmly believe that postcards lose a little bit of their magic when not sent from, and bearing the stamps of, their country of origin. And so, rather than re-stamp the postcards we already had from the Czech Republic or France, I took them back here. I have since entrusted them to a Hungarian in my French class, with instructions to mail them (I even supplied a pre-paid envelope) to his family so that they might post them for me. If this strikes you as crazy, you're not alone - Gabor wouldn't even make eye contact with me in class after I explained my plan.

On the postcard front: if you - whether you be a friend, acquaintance or random passerby of this corner of the 'net - want one from Strasbourg or our next trip, wherever it may be, let me know and I'll add you to our address list.

_{Note:Actual travel stories and photos will come soon. My Mom gave me a nice journal for Christmas, in which I kept a travel diary. Unfortunately, I also promised her I would send her the results, and am now having to transcribe 60 pages of my handwriting, the illegible nature of which was done no favours by being battered by the rough charms of Eastern European trains).}