We were in Budapest a couple weeks ago to renew my long-term residence permit and had some time to kill before the Immigration Office opened.  We decided to visit the Hopp Ferenc Museum of Asian Art to view its temporary (until April 17, 2016) In Search of Prince Genji - Japan in Words and Images Exhibition.  The Tale of the Genji by Murasaki Shikibu was required reading in college for my Asian History major. The book was written in the 11^th century.  This portrait of courtly life in medieval Japan is widely celebrated as the world's first novel. The Tale of Genji is a very long romance, running to fifty-four chapters and describing the court life of Heian Japan, from the tenth century into the eleventh. The centrepiece of the exhibition was a 54 panel screen of pictures of scenes from each of the 54 chapters. Its origin is unknown, but it is thought that the scenes have been deliberately painted out of order to make people think more deeply and better remember the text. A well-translated booklet in English can be borrowed that describes the displays in more detail while summarising the chapters.  Even though it is a classic, I had no idea what in impact the book has made on Japanese culture, art and life. Some of the most interesting pieces were a beautiful vase painted with butterflies and a small carving of a fisherman with net.  Becoming aware of differences in logic between Japanese culture and my own was perhaps the most interesting. For example, the aim of memory card game in the West would be to remember where the matching card is. The Japanese version is to remember how poems continue. There was also an interactive game involving cute little scent boxes. The rules of the game were complicated, but visitors could at least try their noses. Out of about 20 scents I sadly only identified 3. The scents were unusual, including such items as a chimney, wood fire and fresh uncut grass...There is a side exhibition of large black and white photos by Hungarian Zoltán Gaál of places mentioned in the book. I was unimpressed, and the photos were out of focus. However, one, of statues of babies with bibs tied on them attracted my notice. There was no information about any of the photos so I stepped out and asked one of the museum guards. You should have seen the huge smile that broke across her face as she accompanied me back to the room and gladly explained the significance and tale of these bibs.

Knowing that I would probably face a long wait at the Immigration Office, we sought out some lunch and stumbled upon Made in Pasta at Oktogon 4 where the Diszkont Illatszer used to stand for years. A slice of pizza here is 390 Huf, about 100 Huf more than most pizza slice outlets, but I still wanted to give it a try. I was attracted to the design of the place. The staff, especially the woman on duty, was very polite, friendly and keen. The menu offers a good selection of pasta and sauces, sandwiches, pizza and calzone.  Kata and I both had very tasty slices of pizza, on which the woman added a handful of fresh garden rocket for free.

The Immigration Office on Harmat u. was not packed, so I had high hopes that I would get out of there fairly quickly. These were soon dashed by a family of Arabs and a Chinese family that occupied 2 of the 3 staff (10 desks) on duty for several hours. The woman working the info desk, as well as the rest of the staff was patient and friendly. I also noticed that a play area and a diaper changing area had been added. I was very disappointed to discover that the entire trip had been in vain. Although I got my new permit, it had been unnecessary. A couple months ago I had to get a new permit because the other one was in an expiring passport. I was told at the time that the permit would only be extended until the expiry date of the original one and that I would have to reapply as usual in the New Year. It turns out, my permit had been renewed for another 5 years, but the Immigration officer did not pick up on this either. I only knew about it when one of his colleagues kindly phoned me and told me to cancel my renewal request because I already had a valid permit. She also contacted the tax office to hopefully start a refund of my 10000 Huf application fee.

On the way home for dinner with friends Nori and Bandi, I noticed that the tiny olive oil shop Mediterranica (Wesselényi u. 54) on the corner which Nori recommended was still open at 18:40. Most Hungarian shop owners would just roll their eyes and hope for a customer to go away, but Marko was enthusiastic to chat for awhile about his passion for olives. Kata and I were just in Monachil, Spain again before Christmas to help our friends the de Bogatas and Lengyels get in their olive crop and press the oil, so the subject was fresh in my mind.  Marko is extremely well-informed and impassioned about his subject and wares, which include the top 5-10 olive oils in the world, truffles, and sea salts and cheeses from Croatia. I learned a tremendous amount in 20 minutes, too much to remember. One of the first shocks was that while we picked the fully black olives for oil in Spain, Marko said that it is best to pick the green ones which are packed with polyphenols important for the flavour and health impacts of the oil. The polyphenols in black olives are minimal compared to green olives. But at the risk of being called a heathen, I found the taste of these olive oils too peppery for my taste and still prefer the milder varieties such as we had at our friends.  Once our current stock runs out, we will definitely go back for a proper tasting at his olive oil bar and make a purchase.