Entering Hungary

I had a strange David Sedaris moment of the train from Zagreb to Budapest. I had gotten restless watching Carrie sleep soundly on across 3 of the seats in our 6-seat compartment. There’s something about a sleeping beauty that keeps even the most hard-up traveler from barging into our quiet little space and disturbing things. I had seen half a dozen people get on the train, walk by, peek in, and continue on their way as I studiously avoided any eye contact.

Anyway, as I was walking around, I noticed the pretty countryside and towns that we were passing. I stuck my head slightly out the window to sink it in. As I craned my neck around, I saw a boy, maybe 8, sitting on a wooden fence waving at the train. His mother and father were behind him and there was a dirt road leading away from the little dead-end that they were standing at. It occurred to me that this boy’s parents had brought him to this spot so that he could wave at the train. Maybe this is a big deal? Maybe he’d never seen a train before?

So I stuck my hand out the window and waved back. The boy didn’t catch this, but his father did. He said something to his son, pointing in my direction as the train raced away and, I swear to god, I think he smiled. As the train receded, I watched the family gather their things and head back down the dirt road.