We numbered nine. And together we represented five different nations - Germany, Holland, Hungary, the United States of America, the United Kingdom - each with its own character, culture and individuality.
|the vineyard where we gathered for a picnic on the slopes above Lake Balaton|
It had been Horst's idea. But then it was his vineyard. How splendid it would be that we should all, on Easter Monday, repair to the vine-clad slopes over and above the Lake Balaton to enjoy an 'alfresco' luncheon 'en plein-air' [if we may be permitted to borrow from other absent languages]. So it was that we assembled, in something of an easterly breeze, so to speak, outside of his wonderfully romantic boros-pince, wine cellar, amongst the blossom of the wild cherries and where, basking on sun-warmed stones, lizards slept the afternoon away.
|the exterior of the boros-pince which is built, at the rear, into the hillside|
|a contented lizard dreams away the April afternoon|
Was there ever such a picnic? Dutch and Hungarian cheeses, the blackest of olives, patés, kolbász, salads, delicious tasting breads, all of which were accompanied with Horst's own 2010 Olaszrizling and then, treat of treats, perfection indeed, an icy clear, pale pink Rosé. And such laughter, merriment and joy, with stories and tales in abundance, as the April sun slowly sank over the distant waters of the lake and a far away clock chimed the passing of the hours.
|inside the cellar, Horst draws off more wine from the barrel|
Such small wine cellars are not uncommon in Hungary. Built into the hillside they provide a store for the wine and a simple kitchen where, by tradition, food may be prepared for those who work the land. Horst's is no exception but, adding to the simple charm, he has chosen to decorate the walls with a collection of rustic plates gathered from his travels in neighbouring countries.
|just some of the many plates which decorate the walls|
However, dusk settles quickly at this time of year and all too soon the company divided, each to go his/her separate way. For us, though, the day was not yet done for the evening promised time with more friends, artist, musician and scholar, Jan, and his delightful Hungarian wife, Judit, just returned home to their village house from an Easter retreat.
|late afternoon showing posts in place to support the vines|
But that is another story!