A young skater in the streets of the Castle District area, in Budapest. It began to snow again that night.

Hungarians are very shy people and it takes them some days to open up a little. Well, I’m a Brazilian and it takes me about 8 seconds to do the same. It’s not a fair comparison but it does make one of the funniest interactions you’ll ever see.

I was standing at the window of my hotel in Paris watching the snow fall in the early morning. I saw this man walking on the pavement and thought it was a good opportunity to take a picture. He didn’t know wether he would hold the umbrella right or blow some warm air to his hands. It was cold.

The branches are intentionally in focus. 

This is the real Monalisa painted by Leonardo DaVinci. The moment had come for me to see the real deal. This is it. And even though it’s all true, it’s a very mystique figure (her eyes do follow you anywhere you go in front of her), what impressed me was the number of people managing to squeeze in to take a single shot of this lady.

Thanks to the glass in front of her, I took mine. Mona Lisa admired by the public.

The statue of Attila Jozsef, a hungarian poet.

I fell in love with statues every time I saw one in this trip.

It’s a crazy, bizarre little thing to be obsessed about but it’s true. Every time I walked by a statue, I wanted to spend some time just looking at it, touching it, imagining the world moving in very fast speed while the statues remained intact in time. 

I wrote the name of a few statues down so I could search more about it. And it’s a funny thing because in Brazil we do have statues but not nearly as many as Europe. Sometimes I would not even be looking for one and bam. There it was, staring at me.

As soon as I have my own house, with my own garden, I’m building a statue there.