Walking down the cobblestone streets of Szentendre, a small town outside Budapest, I was lucky enough to stumble right into the middle of some festival. I have no idea what it was celebrating, but it was great. Old women, men, families, they all were dressed up, riding around on these little horse-drawn carriages, sloshed on the local wine, singing songs and handing out wine and grapes to me and all the other spectators. A bunch of teenagers were swinging each other around, jumping and spinning in what I assume was some kind of traditional Hungarian dancing while everyone cheered them on.
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