After more than 30 years of traveling in Europe I feel very much at home in almost every country. Town names, landmarks, people, and language all seem familiar, but every time I cross the border into Hungary I am acutely aware of being a foreigner.

I think it has mostly to do with language – I have a good understanding of the Germanic and Romance languages, as well as a smattering of Slavic languages. I can make sense out of words and signs almost everywhere I travel in Europe. But not in Hungary. Here, the words printed on signs and menus bear no relation to any other European language, retaining the distant echo of the eastern Steppes from which the Magyars came.

Everything seems strange, and wonderful.