MAKERS
My partner and I needed to be in Budapest recently, so we quickly hunkered down to some prospective Airbnb-ing. Pretty soon an apartment appeared on screen that made my eyes pop out on stalks. Think ‘Versailles’ meets ‘Vanderbilt’ – gilded mirrors, ormolu everywhere, cherubs à gogo – and you’ll get the idea. We couldn’t resist. There was even a grand piano, which, bedazzled as I was by the chandeliers and putti, I hadn’t even clocked. What a delightful surprise when we arrived: a Bösendorfer, with a case of inlaid mother-of-pearl to match the general visual opulence. Result!
The apartment has a view of the Danube (or Duna, to give it its proper name while flowing through Hungary) so naturally the first tune on it had to be that waltz of Johann Strauss the Younger. Alas and alack, the sound wasn’t quite as opulent as the case. It was a sad untuneable old beast, with loose dampers, wobbly keys, and general mechanical decrepitude. When I WhatsApped a few bars of my jangly waltz to a friend, she remarked that it reminded her of one of those comedy sound effects from The Goon Show. (She’s a retro kinda gal.)
No matter. We had – a feast for the eyes – than what it was .
