Bundled heavily while strolling down the enormous Andrásy út Boulevard, this tiny blue contraption catches my eye. It is midday and everyone is at work. I peer inside where no one sits, but see a young man blowing in his hands and rubbing them together fiercely to ward off the Budapest winter chill. His white breath parting from his lips, he anxiously inserts his key into the ignition and prays the engine turns over. Judging by the thick layer of snow atop the roof where others are still bare, it seems his prayers have been unanswered and that today getting to work has been done on foot.
Further down the road, the snow starts to fall again. I look up to the sky and wonder how its possible to live many months out of the year in such restrictive weather. I am reminded by these youngsters that the only restrictions we ever truly face are those caused by our own lack of imagination.
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