“People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy at home.”
Anton Chekhov
A reasonable drive ahead of us today.
We head out for a run and get in some breakfast and a few coffees.
On the road at 8.30 am. It is a six hour drive to Budapest.
About half an hour in, I declare to Shell that I don’t think I will drink today.
Ten minutes later, I am thinking about a beer with dinner.
We stop for lunch on a random side road. Wildflowers and trains keep us company.
We drop the car off and check into Budapest.
An early dinner, and we head back to our place.
It is nice to be home.
“I have been to the heights and to the depths, but it is only in the memory of home that I find warmth.”
Maxim Gorky
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