Glossing over the past without much care

I tried going on a date with a guy in his forties today. Needless to say it did not go well. While I stood there waiting for him I saw loads of old people around, and got a horrible preminition. Obviously I've got nothing against age, per se, otherwise I wouldn't have been there, but when he showed up he did not look good. His skin was almost translucent, and his nose had that thing where you could see lots of red veins. I knew it was a lost cause, but didn't have the heart to say so immediately. I thought I'd give it a chance, he might be a nice guy, and perhaps we could be friends.

Sadly it was not to be. He was from the old Buda part of town, and didn't know Pest at all, so that he didn't even have any suggestions of where we should go. His energy levels were really low, and he wasn't going to inspire me, which was what I was sorely needing at present. We went to find a restaurant for lunch, though he said he'd already eaten. I made the best of it and tried some local dishes, which were more than adequate. When I took him to the tram he asked if we'd meet again. I had to tell him that I didn't think it would be best. He seemed a little surprised.

He represented the split between Buda and Pest so well. The older, more sedentary sit on the westbank, generally better off than their Pest counterparts, often older, and feeling that their part of town is better. The younger people live in Pest, with its newer vibe, which is increasingly what the tourists want to see, but is also being stepped upon by foreign companies and cultures. The Danube is dividing more than just land.

When I got home I pondered what to do with the rest of my day, and asked an online contat for the best place to buy a new computer monitor, so that I could work on my laptop while watching films. He recommended a place in the West End mall, which, incidentally, was the place I'd gone on the first day to sort out my T-Mobile internet. I got the tram there, and walked quickly to the shop. Discovering a screen would set me back around £100, and a cable another £10, I left slightly disappointed, and wandered round the mall.

It was just like any number of shopping centres back in the UK: soulless yet flashy, and full of eager faces. I saw all the gloss and glitz, and evident new money in the place, and bemoaned the fact that Hungarians were obviously choosing to spend their money here rather than updating their beautiful capital, which is so clearly in need of an injection of funds. It's so sad, yet so common nowadays that people choose to live moment to moment, with selfish material fashionable objects, rather than taking care of what is and always will be: their lands and houses: their homes: their environment.

Despondency clung around me like an ill-fitting cloak as I headed home. The door to my floor refused to open again, causing me to struggle for five minutes with the key, fearing it would snap and all would be lost. When I finally got into the flat I sent an email to my landlord telling him all about it, but appreciating there was little he could do, it being a communal door.

The English guy who'd stalked me on twitter came up on msn, and started talking to me. He's a terrific guy, and everso helpful, having a lot of compassion for the plight of Brits in Budapest. He lives here with his wife, and, I soon discovered, four dogs - I asked if it was possible to borrow one on occasion. All my problems were solved, as he kindly offered to bring me over an old computer monitor on the Tuesday evening, when his wife would check my T-Mobile contract, and see if it would be possible to relieve me of it. Along with information on a nearby Lidl, a promise to bring over a whole load of films on his harddrive, and advice on other internet providers, he put me in touch with his young sister-in-law, who would show me around the town. Good things come to those who wait....