Dancing queens

During my holiday with my brother and his family, I often threatened my nieces by promising to write about their (mis)adventures on this blog.

Although they pretended to be mortified by such exposure, I know they are secretly craving the fame that comes with a mention here. So my little bratanicas (Polish for nieces), your 5 minutes has come.

From now on, I'll always think of Budapest when I hear certain ABBA songs, particularly Mamma Mia and Super Trooper. The bratanicas saw the movie Mamma Mia (twice) just before they came to Poland, and their father thoughtfully loaded their iPods with the soundtrack.

We spent many, many hours on trains to and from Budapest, and ABBA was in high rotation. H particularly likes to sing along with her iPod, which isn't always the best idea when you are sitting in a train compartment full of your family members. Being resourceful, and tired of the relentless teasing, she found an empty cabin where she could sing aloud to her heart's content, much to the amusement of the conductor who came to check her ticket.

A similar train compartment was the site of my favourite moment of that trip. After 10 or so hours of boat and then train travel, we were all tired and a bit giddy. H was still singing aloud to her iPod, when I realized I had ABBA on mine. I suggested that we try to synch up and listen to the same song.

So with one earphone in my ear and one in M's, and H sharing hers with her mother, we starting listening to the same tunes. And as everyone knows, you can't just listen to an ABBA song, you have to sing along. So slightly out of synch, and terribly out of tune, two generations of Hex women sang loudly and enthusiastically to all the hits. We gestured, we giggled, and we made up the words.

I loved every minute of it.