Welcome to Narnia — Budapest but Make It Quiet
photo by Melì
Budapest has been hit by snow and harsh sub-zero temperatures that are here to stay for at least another week. Letting aside the usual concerns about icy roads and tricky logistics, I allow myself to simply enjoy this nostalgic winter wonderland and switch my worries off for a moment.
I love how the snow brightens up the city and casts its pure reflection on angles we don’t usually look at. Sidewalks disappear, roads grow narrower, and as we search for new reference points, we’re forced to truly look around — discovering tiny details of the city we might otherwise pass by.
A city as old and as gritty as Budapest rarely gets the chance to feel untouched and peaceful. But when suddenly more than ten centimeters of snow fall, under that calming white blanket everything becomes quieter, softer, and strangely kinder. And speaking of quiet: for anyone, like myself, who loves the city but is sensitive to noise, these days are priceless — the snow muffles urban sounds to a perfectly gentle level.
Grabbing the moment with both hands, I purposefully switched off my mind — my worries about the current state of the world at large, as well as my own endless single-mum to-do list — and decided to have a really good afternoon.
photo by Melì
So, in these moments of Narnia, I couldn’t wait to pick up my kids from school and rush to one of my favourite places in the city. Can you guess? It has something to do with writing. :)
For our little snowy adventure, we wandered around the Szabó Ervin Library and its cosy surroundings near Kálvin tér, Budapest, Hungary — and oh boy, did we have fun. We admired the beautiful contrast of snow-covered dark branches against magnificent façades, while making snow angels and throwing snowballs at each other.
In the middle of it all, I also allowed myself to drift down memory lane and remember what winters were like when I was little. I spent my early childhood in Budapest, and I remember times when you could barely walk properly because the snow was so deep.
I recall standing almost immobilised by my thick layers of sweaters and ski pants, in the middle of our garden, waist-deep in snow, while my poor Granny smiled at me from the doorstep. Granny was the most magical presence in my life, and looking back, I so deeply appreciate how she stood in the cold for long, long minutes, patiently watching my endless production of snow angels and lopsided snowmen.
photo by Melì
I can still see it so clearly: mesmerised by the orange glow of the streetlight reflected on the untouched white surface, I watched the dancing snowflakes and silently begged the snow not to stop. I wanted that moment to last forever. I absolutely love that I can still feel that childish longing — such a powerful reminder of what it means to feel alive.
I still love snow, and it’s such a joy to show my children a glimpse of what the city looked like back then.
Wherever you are from in the world, if you are in Budapest right now, this snow may be entirely new to you — something to marvel at, to rejoice in. Or perhaps it simply makes you feel unexpectedly at home. Maybe you even hate it — and I won’t lie, it is cold and wet and slows you down when you don’t want it to.
And maybe, if you’re like me — living between worlds and cultures, following the news with a quiet knot in your stomach most days — this sudden snowfall offers at least a momentary distraction.
Either way, there is something quietly valuable in allowing yourself to absorb this slowing-down moment — to breathe, to recalibrate, and to ask what helps us feel well, stay anchored in our values, and turn these cold winter days into something warmer: a shared, human, cozy experience.
Over to you
What do you think about this snow? I know many of you have never seen anything like this before – and some of you may have never seen snow at all, coming from warmer places. How do you like it?
What’s your experience of this snowy Budapest, and what do you love most about the city when it’s covered in white?
photo by Melì
