Balaton

Fülszöveg

BALATON The laké is surrounded by gentle slopes, capririous reeds, the dried up beds of mountain streams, and hidden villages, whose presence is often indicated only by an occasional church tower rearing its steeple towards the sky, while sloping graveyards and ancient ruins lie sequestered among the tangled skein of nettle and golden rod. Wherever a spade is planted into the soil around the laké shore, clumps of earth turn up souvenirs of past times - pottery shards and Román sarcophagi, coins bearing the faded images of Román Age emperors, ashlars of medieval churches, and green tiles from Renaissance palace stoves. The surface of the laké has a way of changing from one hour to the next. A quivering, opaline miit hovers above it, making its outline indistinct; then the contours suddenly turn hard, the gale starts up, and the lake's surface turns into an agitated terrain of frothy waves. The neighborhood In olden times, life around the laké was traditional; today,. old traditions... Tovább

Fülszöveg

BALATON The laké is surrounded by gentle slopes, capririous reeds, the dried up beds of mountain streams, and hidden villages, whose presence is often indicated only by an occasional church tower rearing its steeple towards the sky, while sloping graveyards and ancient ruins lie sequestered among the tangled skein of nettle and golden rod. Wherever a spade is planted into the soil around the laké shore, clumps of earth turn up souvenirs of past times - pottery shards and Román sarcophagi, coins bearing the faded images of Román Age emperors, ashlars of medieval churches, and green tiles from Renaissance palace stoves. The surface of the laké has a way of changing from one hour to the next. A quivering, opaline miit hovers above it, making its outline indistinct; then the contours suddenly turn hard, the gale starts up, and the lake's surface turns into an agitated terrain of frothy waves. The neighborhood In olden times, life around the laké was traditional; today,. old traditions have survived only in the remote villages that have gone into hiding to preserve their former way of life. This hidden world is alsó part of the world of the laké and is inseparable from it. The summer The summef Season belongs to the tourists. With the advent of summer, those who live around the laké are lost in the commotion which obscures their presence. Clusters of tents spring up on the shore, and city folk crowd the jetties and landing stages in order to do somé fishing. Life on the beaches reminds us of one big party. The wine When September, the first "month for humans" arrives, the mood of the Balaton changes. The air no longer vibrates with Mediterranean fire, and high up in the sky, the golden sparkle is interspersed with a tint of blue. The unselfconscious dance of nature turns contemplative. It is the season of wine and migrating birds. The winter In wintertime, the lively buzz of summer turns into the often bittér struggle for survival; what during the merry summer months was the sound of music is now the slow, monotonous droning of the wind. Instead of the riot of color, there is only the infinite white of the tranquil season but one pregnant with the joyous expectation of spring. Vissza