December 8, 2013
Into Budapest: Adventures in the night
The next morning it was quite a bit warmer and there was no snow or ice anywhere. I knew that it was going to be a great day when a Hungarian man cycled alongside me and said hello. He was of middle age, somewhat balding, and had only two teeth, one on each side of his mouth. This didn't stop him smiling broadly. Of course we had no common language but I think he understood that I was on my way to Australia and I managed to tell him my name was Chris.
"Caress?"
"Yes, Chris."
"Caress."
"Yes. Chris. Me Chris. You?"
"Feri"
"Ferry?"
"Caress Ferry, Caress Ferry"
When this kind of conversation happens before breakfast, you just know the day is going to be epic.
For all that, the rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. I seemed to be making good progress for Budapest, the kilometre markers at the side of the road counting down towards it. I only had about 50 kilometres to go at ten in the morning and it seemed like I was going to make it with time to spare for once. But then the road split and the main road which was going directly towards the city had a 'no cycling' sign and the one which I had to follow, along the looping and winding Danube, now said more than 70 kilometres to Budapest. This was annoying.
The longer route came with some advantages. I passed through the town of Erzewotsit, which was a very nice town with a big thing. And because I was still following the Eurovelo 6 bicycle route, I occasionally could get off the road and enjoy a bicycle path. It was on one of these paths that I came across a guy riding a rather odd looking bicycle. It looked odd because the rack was essentially built into the frame. This is something that really would have prevented a lot of my own rack based traumas. So I said hello to this guy and he said hello back and would you believe it he spoke English and I rode the rest of the way into Budapest chatting with Marcell, for that was his name. He told me about a bicycle trip he had done with this bike in Iceland and how he was planning another one from Barcelona to Slovenia in a couple of months time. He was a really nice guy and told me he was on his way to an event in Budapest, some sort of gathering of a human rights group, and invited me to join him. It sounded like fun, but I had told Ben that I would be at his family’s house sometime on Sunday afternoon, which was up a big hill to the west of Budapest, and it was already getting late.
"There will be free food" Marcell promised.
"Oh alright then."
Cycling into Budapest along the Danube was really something special. We rounded a corner and saw the spires of the city for the first time with a pink sky behind them and the river below lined with lights and it was really beautiful. I tried to take a picture but my camera is utterly hopeless in low light, utterly hopeless, so you will just have to take my word for it. Or cycle into Budapest yourself, which I recommend more.
We arrived at the event. There was food being cooked outside by some Afghans. It looked great but nowhere near being ready. I was so hungry and exhausted because I had by now cycled more than a hundred kilometres and I hadn't eaten for a few hours; because of riding with Marcell I hadn't stopped to eat like I normally would have. I felt kind of dizzy actually. Then we went inside a little building and before me lay a long table which was completely covered in gingerbread pieces and around the table sat lots of beautiful women decorating the gingerbread with icing. At this point I assumed that I must have fainted because dreams don't usually come true like that. There was also a 3-d printing machine which Marcell wanted to go and look at, presumably because he hadn't noticed all the gingerbread and beautiful women. We came to a compromise of sitting at the end of the gingerbread table closest to the 3-d printing machine.
Rather annoyingly nobody else was actually eating any of the gingerbread and because I'm British and therefore terribly polite I also didn't eat any, even though I could have quite happily eaten all of the hundreds of pieces on the table. I did talk to some of the beautiful women but I'm afraid I can't remember what any of them said because by this stage the room was starting to spin. Marcell gave me two pieces of gingerbread as a present and forced me to eat them, which gave me just enough strength to walk outside and find the Afghans had finished preparing some of the cooked food. Once I had eaten some of that I remembered that I was supposed to be at Ben's family's house several hours ago. Against all better judgement I therefore did not return to the magical gingerbread room and instead took my leave, agreeing to meet again with Marcell the next morning.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Ben was my Hungarian flatmate in Edinburgh and had arranged for me to stay with his family just outside of Budapest even though he was not going to be there himself. To be fair to Ben, he had warned me that his house was at the top of a very big hill, something I had shaken off with 'pah, whats a hill?' Turns out, it really is a very big hill indeed, especially at the end of a very, very long day. It just kept going up and up and up. It was so steep and went on so long that I finally decided that whoever declared that Mount Everest was the highest point on Earth must have been mistaken and there would have to be a recount because clearly this hill outside Budapest was much higher. Up and up and up I went. I stopped to eat some dates. Up and up. I looked back at the lights of the city, far, far, far below. Up and up. It was getting difficult to breathe, the oxygen in the air by now only about 40% of that at Budapest Base Camp. Up and up. And then finally to the top where I found Ben's town perched precariously amongst the stars.
Having found Ben's town I then found Ben's street and then the number of Ben's house. It had Ben's surname on the mailbox. I was here, finally, I could rest. There was no bell. I looked through at the house and then walked around and found another gate also going up to it and here there was a bell so I rang it. A cute dog came up to the gate. It was a lovely little shy thing, it was absolutely the type of dog Ben would have. Then a man (played by Victor Meldrew) poked his head from the door and shouted something in Hungarian which sounded like "Who the hell are you?"
I asked if he spoke English, told him my name, that I was Ben's friend. He replied with angry shouting in Hungarian. I guessed it was something along the lines of "Who the hell are you? What are you doing coming to my house late at night like this? Go away before I call the cops."
I decided the thing to do was get my bike, which was leaning against the other gate, and show it to him so he would understand. But he didn't understand he just waved his arm at me and went back inside, leaving me standing alone in the cold night. 'Well' I thought 'that was unexpected.' Ben had told me that his brother was expecting me, maybe his father had no idea that I was coming. But if that was his father then I had no desire to stay in his house, because he was a horribly rude man. So I cycled off.
Now I had a choice to make. There were some woods nearby at the top of the hill which were very fine for camping, but I was now feeling quite awake and keen for more adventure, and I was also really looking forward to taking a shower. I thought that if I went back into Budapest, I could definitely find a place to couchsurf. I would go back to the human rights event and look for Marcell or just ask one of the beautiful gingerbread girls for a place to stay, they were all couchsurfery type people there. I knew if I did this, there was no going back, there was no way I was ever cycling up this hill again, but in for a penny, in for a pound.
I went down, down, down, down, down. Going up had taken several days, going down took four and a half minutes, and I was back in the big city. I made my way back to the magical gingerbread house. I walked in and found... nothing. It was empty. Every single one of the beautiful girls gone. Not a scrap of gingerbread left. If any of it really existed in the first place. Damn and blast.
Plan B. Find somewhere with wifi and try and find a couchsurfing host or something. I cycled along the river opposite the Parliament building which is a really extraordinary building and was all lit up. Budapest does a magnificent job of lighting itself up at night. It was worth all the sweat and toil. I found a quiet little bar and bought a coke and tried to find somewhere to stay. I emailed Marcell but he had his cousin to stay and there was no space there, but he would try to find me somewhere. I posted a message on the popular social netwerking site, Facebook, which also got one or two people looking for me. Couchsurfing was a lost cause, the 'emergency request' group being rarely used. Nevertheless I sat until the bar closed at midnight trying to work out what to do and where to sleep. Only a month earlier Budapest was in the news for making homelessness illegal in the city. When I heard the news I just knew I was going to end up being homeless for the night in Budapest. It was destiny. I also spoke to Ben online, and he told me that his family doesn't have a dog and that his house doesn't have a bell and is quite far from the road and when I walked from the first gate to the second gate I essentially went to his angry neighbours house. Damn and blast.
I left the bar at midnight, so I didn't see the message which got to my inbox at ten past midnight offering me a bed for the night. Instead, fearful of the anti-homeless laws, I decided that the only logical thing to do was cycle back out of Budapest the way that I had originally come in with Marcell and throw my tent up in a field. This I did, finally getting to sleep at about half past one in the morning.
Today's ride: 153 km (95 miles)
Total: 10,481 km (6,509 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 3 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |