The 22nd biggest lake in Europe

Our friends Róbi and Györgyi, with sister Gabi, baby Laura and terrier Gerbaud (named after a pastry) rented a holiday bungalow by the Balaton for a week, and kindly invited us down to occupy the extra bedroom for a few days.

We were in Balatonszéplak on the south side of the lake, which is considered a bit déclassé compared to the north side, with more dramatic scenery, historical villages, and vineyards rising up in hills. Somehow I always end up on the south side.

In a landlocked country, Balaton has a special place in Hungarian hearts as the equivalent to a seashore resort.

And in summertime it's hopping, although the season ends very suddenly on the August 20 holiday. Which made wandering around the near-empty village in early-mid September have a bit of a Quadrophenia feel, where you could ruminate on lost time and lost opportunities in a duly atmospheric setting, especially since a cold snap had moved in after the canicula of the last few weeks when no one felt like doing anything. At least on Thursday and Friday it did. On Saturday morning it warmed up again, and the village was reclaimed somewhat by carloads Budapesters intent on getting another weekend's use out of their beach houses before the lake starts to think about freezing over.

Here's the view down the lake. That's Tihány peninsula on the right, with its abbey perched on the hilltop. Down at the end is the extinct volcano Badacsóny, where they make wine that tastes like it had sucked the basalt out of an extinct volcano. A true Hungaricum. And if after roasting through the last week, if we don't get a decent vintage this year, I am going to be somewhat incensed.

I should spend more time here. Usually I just pop down for brief visits in the summer, but it's a great spot for biking and hiking any time of year. The water was still warm enough for swimming, and probably will remain so for a few more weeks. The sailboaters were out in force.

At this little house-cum-kiosk you can get really excellent lángos and palacsinta, although the waffles received mixed review.

The lángos are those pizza-looking things we are about to descend upon. It's basically deep-fried pizza dough, upon which you place the toppings of your choice, usually some combination of garlic (which you brush on yourself from the jar full of chopped cloves in oil), sour cream and cheese. Sometimes you can get cabbage. Mine is a "peasant" lángos house speciality with fried onions and bacon. Another Hungaricum: not something to eat every day, but deeply intertwined with the Balaton mystique.

Palacsinta, which my crusade to prevent Hungarians from translating into English as "pancakes", since we have a perfectly good French word to use for them, has thus far borne no fruit, are not Hungaricums at all. In fact, I think both the word palacsinta, and all its similar cognates used in all the lands between the dominion of the crêpes and that of the blinis, and the thing itself originate in classical Byzantium. Anyway they turn out better here than anywhere else. Another integral part of the Balaton experience. I recommend rum and walnut filling.