Sreten on the way to Szeged

I never thought that an ordinary trip to Szeged would remain so memorable in my memory. I set out that morning without much expectation - backpack on my back, passport in my pocket, coffee from the machine in my hand, and that familiar mixture of impatience and fatigue that accompanies every early awakening. It was Friday, and the plan was clear: one day's shopping, some Hungarian specialties and return home by evening.

The bus arrived exactly at seven. I sat by the window - that's always my favorite place. I like to watch the landscapes change, how the villages and towns change faces as we cross borders. There were not many people, a few pensioners, a couple of young people who were obviously going to pick up a wardrobe, and one family with two small children - a real challenge for the driver and all the rest of us who were hoping for a peaceful journey.

Somewhere near Vršac, the sky darkened, as if someone was warning us that everything would not go smoothly. And indeed, as soon as we reached the border, the column. As long as eternity. We waited for hours. People were going out, smoking, walking nervously. Children cried, elders complained of rheumatism, and I, for some reason, smiled. Maybe because I knew that it's those unplanned situations that make travel come alive.

When we finally crossed into Hungary, the sun returned, as if to reward us for our patience. Szeged welcomed me with the colorful streets, the smell of langoustines and the quiet murmur of the Tisza river. I walked around the center, bought little things that I didn't really need, but they attracted me with their beauty. I stopped by a small pastry shop, drank a coffee and ate a piece of cake that was unknown to me at the time, which completely enchanted me - something between a strudel and a pie with poppy seeds. The aunt who worked there looked at me and said in English: "You like it?" I just nodded, mouth full, and smiled.

On the way back I was tired but satisfied. My legs hurt, my backpack was full, and my heart even fuller. Szeged is not far, but it seemed like a small escape from everyday life. Maybe that's what traveling is really about - not how far you've gone, but how close you've become.

That day, on the way to Szeged, I realized how little a person needs to feel alive.