Breezy on the Balaton  

We might not have appreciated the small Hungarian beach village with its gravel sidewalks and dirt roads, or my grandmother’s private little home on the shores of the lake. But those were the textures and smells of my young life, and I’m still on the lookout for the summer scent of fresh-mowed grass

Trigger: Cool breeze and overcast sky on a summer day

Location: Lake Balaton in Balatonszeplak, Hungary

Come summer, most children in the ’80s went to day camp or sleepaway camp. However, every few years, my mother, younger brother, and I would fly from Baltimore, Maryland to Hungary for a family visit. The trip was a minimum of nine hours, as there were no direct flights: We’d take the red-eye from Baltimore to Heathrow Airport in London, and after a short layover, we’d board the plane to Ferihegy Airport in Hungary.

My grandmother, Nagymama, and several other relatives from my mother’s side remained in Hungary after the Holocaust and the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. None of them were frum.

We’d usually arrive in Hungary in the early evening, where Uncle Tomi, my mother’s brother, would be waiting for us at the airport. He and my mother would immediately launch into a conversation in rapid Hungarian, catching up on each other’s lives the whole drive home. Once we arrived at Nagymama’s beautiful antique-filled apartment in Budapest, there were hugs and kisses all around before my brother and I grabbed a quick bite and went to bed.

A day or two later, after we gained our bearings, we would pack up our pots, pans, and enough kosher food for several weeks. Then we’d all board the train to Lake Balaton.