We arrived in Budapest only to find that there was no Budapest at all. At least the Budapest that we performed in during the last century was no longer there. And we had a night of rememberances (it happens so rarely)... And not only Hungary... We remembered other stories, of Yugoslavia, of Budva, of Belgrade, and Zagreb… We didn't have www.derevo.org then as we do now. And the fairy tale element of those trips seemd alive.

News of old times.

Budva.

Yugoslavia. The seashore. A white withered castle. No shadows. +40C. DEREVO improvises at night not wanting to go into the Hotel. We sleep on the hot stone floor. We go swimming in the morning. Dima Tyulpanov decided to wash his tuba, too. He placed it in water not far from the shore and fell asleep at the sand. He wakes up and sees someone washing another tuba. "Great, - thought Dima, - this is such a musical town". He slept for another hour, woke up and saw another handsome man with moustache holding a tuba above the water. "Such a good town Budva, - decides Dima, - very creative. They even have established a place for tuba washing. By the way, what a smart person I am! Musician heart, no less…"

When Dima finally woke up in the evening, he dragged himself into water, only to find that there was no tuba. The Tuba had been stolen. The keeper said that yes, he saw various people playing the tuba, and then along came the owner, who took it out of the water and carried the tuba away. And Lena Yarovaya from the neighboring island saw the shine of metal, blue water, wet golden body and thought that a war may not yet come...