Absinthe, shawarma, and somersaults: A very Budapest New Years tale
There’s something about New Year’s in Budapest—a city that wears its scars like a badge of honour. The past is etched into every street, every corner, every ruin. And on one particular frigid New Year’s Day, I found myself chasing ghosts and stumbling into magic. It started innocently enough. We’d warmed our bones with a…