Remembering the Old While Making New

The trip was my mother's idea, but as most trips in my family, the outcome is dependent on many seemingly unconnected events.  Needing to visit some villages in Brazil, and wanting a travel companion, my mother suggested I go with her.  I wasn't sure I could justify another long absence from home, but I couldn't really find another reason not to go.
Sam's swim meet landed on a holiday weekend, in the city where my brother lives.  So that led to the trip beginning with a drive to Budapest.  I had three good reasons to go to Budapest, the last being the beautiful city.

There are no direct flights to Budapest from Sofia, and it is a drive of a minimum of 8 hours.  Sam would be flying with the team and we calculated that his door to door time would be roughly 8 hours. Driving becomes cheaper when you have more than two people, even with cheap budget airline prices today.
And by car we can load up on snacks, bottles and pillows. A book on tape and rest stops make the time go quickly.

The border crossings are what make or break a car trip.  You never know how long it will take or what to expect.  Jon endured five hours in line during the height of the refugee crisis.  They rarely close a border, but they can make the process slow down to a crawl by insisting on car inspections and extra documents.
Everything went smoothly this time, even when we were stopped by the police on the road.  We aren't quite sure what they wanted, but we must have looked innocent.

Southern Serbia is worth a drive through.  The road winds through mountains in a deep gorge.  The road seems to be carved out of the rock.  There is nowhere to stop along this stretch.

Jon, who is usually driving, wishes there was.  He can't resist picture taking, and is always disappointed with the results.
I was noticing something else in the landscape. There were few signs of spring when we left Sofia, but now there were bursts of color everywhere.  Trees had new green leaves, and white and pink blossoms dotted the hill sides.  It is a mystery to me why this small area was further ahead in the seasons.  Within an hour we were back to winter with empty fields and stark trees. The temperature seemed to drop as well.
I wonder how many travelers pass through Serbia without stopping. They make it easy to do. You can pay the road toll in euros or with credit so there is really no need to carry the local currency.  The road is flat and wide, and before you realize, you are entering the next country.
Hungary seems a little stricter and less welcoming.  We stopped to get Forints, buy the necessary road tax and check that our headlights were on.  Last time the police stopped us and fined us for this infraction.
We made such good time, arriving before the team of swimmers by plane, that we drove into Budapest before dark.  Suddenly we were among stately buildings, grand bridges spanning a picturesque river, castles and palaces.

Sam asked us later if we had only come to watch him swim.  We assured him that yes, that was our only reason for coming to Budapest. But the sight of the city from high up above the river at night, the delicious Filipino food that kept coming out of my sister-in-law's kitchen, the warmth of conversation around the table while we bring up family memories, the earning of a medal in the 50 m butterfly, and time together before parting, are all icing on the cake.

My son sat down by me, exhausted from his events, and I noticed the flags down his arm.  They represent the places he has lived and where he has memories, and the places that make him who he is.  I wondered if one day he would return to one, out of mere curiosity, to remember the old while make new memories. That is exactly what I am doing by returning to Dourados, Mato Grosso, after over thirty years.