Bye Bye Balaton.

All the storms, in the afternoon, evening, over-head at night, across the lake in the distance, no rain, lots of rain, light rain, loud thunder, bright forks down...

All the swims in the murky water, squishy mud, grey sand, snakes swimming, fish dancing - shiny in the evening light, swimming after dinner, in the morning, in the 28°C humid heat...

The island poking out: Volcanic formation, it's pretty village with the chilli house, the Magyar church domed by round balloons, the inner lake, the vineyards climbing up the hills...

Wine with dinner, and the Czech drivers, beer on the beach only a pound in a big, tall, handled glass; sheltering in the van from a storm...

And being woken at night by cars, and lightning flashing, and someone pulling at the door...

Now we're off again, having spent the last money at a Tesco's in Hungary, to cross the border, expect to be stopped...