December 9, 2013
Budapest: People are so nice!
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The next morning as I cycled once again into Budapest I was extremely frustrated because it was raining. Not just because it was raining, that I can handle, but that the skies were completely blue and clear and fine. This is absolutely the worst kind of rain. It is impossible rain. Deceitful, dirty, treacherous rain that has no right to exist simply because it defies all sense of logic and makes a complete mockery of the whole concept of clouds and rain and how everything is linked by the water cycle chart we all learn in school. Where exactly does this impossible rain fit on that diagram I ask you? If it does not come from clouds, where does it come from? Perhaps the reason for it is so utterly implausable that it is not included in the water cycle diagram so as not to confuse schoolchildren or anyone else. Or maybe nobody knows the reaon for this impossible rain. Well anyway, at least it meant rainbows.
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I cycled across for the first time to Pest, which is the east side of the river (Buda being the west) in order to meet Marcell outside his apartment. He cycled with me to the bike shop where he works. Because Marcell is one of the most awesome people in the whole entire world he wanted to have my bike looked over and, shall we say, made somewhat close to roadworthy again. I can only assume he decided this based on its appearance which at the time of our meeting was a little less than showroom standard. We arrived and met the owner of the shop there. He shook my hand and introduced himself as Ferry, so I introduced myself as Caress.
For the next few hours Feri and Marcell and, to a lesser extent, myself, worked tirelessly on the bike. It was still carrying around half a fields worth of mud from the extreme off-road section of Eurovelo 6 and so was given a thorough cleaning. My headset was regreased, chain replaced, rear gear cable changed, new mudguards were fitted (I lost the old ones about a year and a half ago) and my brooks saddle, now 60,000 kilometres old, was tightened up to give it a new lease of life. As I was cycling with Marcell the day before, one of my panniers had fallen off, which is a common enough occurrence and was quickly remedied with cable ties. But now I was offered some new clips for the bags which would hopefully alleviate such hassles. My front derailleur was also fixed and realigned properly. For I don't know how long I had only been able to use it on the small and the middle chainring and to move it from the middle to the small ring I had to give it a good kick with the inside of my heel (not always easy to do while going up steep hills.) Now I had three gears to choose from and it shifted easily. By the end it was really like a new bike. One which actually worked as it should! It was a miracle, an absolute miracle, performed by these two angels of men:
Now I had a few hours to wander around Pest and get to know it just a tiny little bit. I began walking with a young Romanian guy who had also just had his bike fixed and was leaving the bike shop at the same time as me. Unfortunately his name escapes me now. Lets call him Sir Charles-Rodney the Third. So this young guy, who seemed very friendly indeed, told me he had come from Romania and worked here but was now out of work and he had never finished his education either, but he wanted to work and I believed him. And so we were walking through the town and a woman stopped us with a clipboard you know, as they do, to ask for money for the homeless of Budapest (that'll be for me then?) and I really kind of just wanted to walk on past and yet the young and unemployed Sir Charles-Rodney not only stopped to listen with some genuine interest he reached into his wallet and with some apparent happiness fished out a handful of change. I was somewhat humbled by the unexpected act.
Sir Charles soon departed for a date with his ex-girlfriend and I was alone to explore the city. It is, of course, a quite beautiful one. There are several outstanding pieces of architecture which I marvelled at without quite knowing what most of them were (I was without guide or guidebook and merely exploring by whim and fancy.) The streets were busy with cars and people rushing home from work or doing their Christmas shopping and I was not overly taken by the atmosphere of the city, it fell far short of the excitement of New York or Barcelona. But it would be unfair to judge too harshly on such a brief visit in mid-winter! I give Budapest the benefit of the doubt, on mere beauty alone it tops most cities.
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After the walk it was time to collect my bike and head once more for the hills. I felt quite bad about the events of the previous evening, imagining in my arrogance that perhaps Ben's family were looking forward to meeting me (I had been originally scheduled to arrive two months earlier and the anticipation must have been killing them!) To know that I was outside their gate and then left was too much to bear, and in the morning I had asked Marcell to call Ben's brother to ask if I could still come and stay for one night. Because it is a small world indeed, Marcell recognised the name and actually already knew him from a cycling race that they had done together. He said that it was fine for me to come, and so I faced the hill again.
It wasn't quite so bad this time, partly because I knew what I was up against and partly because I hadn't already cycled all day and then almost starved to death at a gingerbread table. With a clearer mind on this ascent I now decided that this hill was probably actually not quite as high as Everest after all. I arrived back at Ben's house and went to the right gate this time. I considered ringing the bell of the neighbour again just for kicks, just to see what the mean old man would make of seeing me back on his doorstep again, but I finally thought better of it. So instead I went in through the right gate and rang the bell on the door.
In keeping with Ben's lovely nature, he of course has a lovely family too. I met his father, and he didn't shout at me in Hungarian even a little bit. He did make some delicious vegetarian food though. I also met Ben's mother and his two brillaintly named brothers, Bàlint and Balàzs. With the latter two I played a game which involved making something described on a card out of lego so that the others have to guess what it is. Like pictionary, but with lego. I really thought I was going to be good at it because I used to play with lego all the time, but it seems two decades of abstinence has taken the edge of my skills. Even so, I think this effort of mine deserves a lot more credit than it got. See if you can guess what it is:
Today's ride: 35 km (22 miles)
Total: 10,516 km (6,530 miles)
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