Private Cities III (after Italo Calvino)

Erlangen is a street with bavarian shops. They sell good shoes and good clothes that are too expensive to buy but nice to look at. The restaurants are Turkish, and Turkish-pretending-to-be-Italian.
On top of the street there is a square named after a brave man. What this brave man has to with Erlangen and its inhabitants is a mistery...
The sky is always blue, the river runs transparent and the air is fresh. So fresh one could eat it with a spoon, like ice-cream.
On the theatre good looking young man and women work frantically. They always have a smile and speak many languages. In Erlangen one might find oneself speaking up to five different languages in one day: English, German, Spanish, Portuguese, French... It's a sort of Babel land, but a happy one.
One spends days in dark rooms playing with figurines. In the night, performances happen. The public laughs and cheers generously. Everybody smokes. Blond women feed their babies. They wish they'd have dark hair on their arms...
Salad and beer fill up the tables. There is no meat, just shy saussages on the breakfast table.

The beds in Erlangen are crispy white but the body lotions don't work.
Train tracks run inside the bedrooms.

Private Cities II (after Italo Calvino)

One enters in the city of Budapest through old gates. The wide avenues invite you to long walks that will undoubtly lead you to the Danube. There you can stop and look at great Baroque buildings perched into the water. Fifteen golden and green bridges connect Buda to Pest, each one more impressive than the other. They are all dedicated to Sissy of Austria, her children and grandchildren. Buda is hilly and green, with mountains and luxurious valleys, Pest flat and yellow, with big parks, big houses, and fast traffic. Yellow trams swiftly travel the city, leaving no trace of their silent passage. In opposition, cars and buses make noise day and night.
Parks filled with statues remember the traveller of the past glories of this nation. Bronze horses are depicted with Viking-like ornaments and stone warriors look fierce and brave.
A thousand hot water springs fill the city's air of vapour. They can emerge at any given place, at any given time. Some are tamed, so grandiose bath houses were built around them. But others are wild, and spring from unexpected places. Immediately passers by take their clothes off and plunge into the warm bath, assuming a known expression of peaceful bliss in their faces.
The people are proud, walking straight in their old styled clothes. Most women have bright red hair: this fashion suits some better than others... Their language is melodic, but completely ununderstandable. The signs in the street make you think you never before learned how to read. Nevertheless, Budapestians are great mime players, and one can communicate for hours with them, through gestures and face expressions. Beware and do not pronounce the words: Mongol, Turk, Habsburg or Communist as they are considered severe insults.