I never really mention it much on here that I grew up in Hungary. I guess usually there’s not much reason to talk about it, unless I visit, which is about twice a year. It’s usually the typical affair of a long weekend with family, not much to share.

When D joins me however, I really make an effort to visit new places with him. This year saw us watch the August 20th celebrations in the capital Budapest, then heading down to Lake Balaton for a couple of days for quaint lakeside Hungarian delights and a spot of wine tasting. But more on that later.

The 20th of August is the National Founding Day in Hungary, marked by a long weekend, massive fireworks, drinking and general revelry across the country, and most of all in Budapest.

This time of the year the whole city is decked out, to last lamp post, tram and bus, with proud flying flags.

The rich watch the fireworks from boats on the river. The rest of the 1.2 million city observes it squashed up and stuck together in a great solidified mass of sweat and cigarette smoke, from the banks of the Danube or from one of its many bridges. Neither of those options are too pleasant.

I have my (kind of) secret place to watch this spectacle from though. A wide grassy slope that each year I share with no more than a hundred other peeps who are also in the know.

Stretching out on the turf, cracking beers open, waiting for night to fall until the pops and booms begin. Then halfway through the show a blood-red Moon rises above the rooftops.

It doesn’t get better, or more local than this.