13th June – 21st Jun 2024
Not long after leaving Spiš Castle we entered northern Hungary, with yet another language and more funny money. Here the Hungarian forint (HUF) is worth about 0.002p, or conversely £1 is about 460 HUF. This makes numbers quite big and scary at first glance. Our first stop was the small city of Eger. This charming town had a great mix of architecture in its well preserved old town, courtesy of its various inhabitants over the centuries and a couple of big aces up its sleeve.
Ace Number One: Eger sits on a thermal spring area and has utilised these to create an amazing thermal bath complex. The original facility is a Turkish Bath where the oldest pool was constructed in the early 1600s during a spell of Turkish rule. The’medicinal waters’ here are lauded for their radon content, which apparently can benefit rheumatic and chronic inflammatory conditions if one marinates onself in it. One can even get subsidised treatments on the health service here. This is contrary to the fact that chronic exposure to radioactive radon gas is widely accepted to cause cancer and its discovery in bed rock below homes can slash the value of a property. Go figure. The Turkish Baths are co-located with a huge outdoor facility with numerous (radon-free) hot pools, a lap pool and a leisure pool with a slide. Interdispersed between the various pools are numerous food trucks and icecream sellers and large grassy areas with shade trees and rentable loungers. It felt like the pool area of a large mid-budget coastal mediterranean resort hotel, not the city centre municipal pool of a land-locked small Hungarian city.
We set aside an afternoon to ‘take the (radioactive) waters’ and having walked the 2km from camp to baths (very slowly, as it was quite warm) we paid the princely sum of 3500 HUF (£7.50) for a three hour visit to the Turkish Baths. We opted against the myriad of massage options available and headed to the pools themselves. The largest, and oldest, pool was beautifully decorated with mosaic tiles and sat under an impressive gold embossed dome. It was also empty, and not very hot. We spent about 30s in that one then explored the five other smaller baths to see if we could find an actual ‘hot’ one. Only one could be described as anything slightly toastier than luke warm so we spent a whole five minutes in that one, at the end of which we still had the place to ourselves. We came to the conclusion that the Turkish Bath experience wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and perhaps the cool radioactive water had put off everyone else too. Luckily our ticket gave us access to the outdoor baths too, so we headed outside through the connecting door to check it out. Here was everyone else! And here were some actually hot pools. We found a shaded area in a pool that was in the Goldilocks zone and spent the rest of our time soaking, sunning, soaking, sunning. At one point our general ‘people watching’ revarie was punctuated by the sight of a pair of face painted soldier, armed with machine guns, one dressed in fatigues and the other in camouflage gear, patrolling the pool area. This seemed a little extreme given the fact that we were pretty sure that there were no increased national security levels, and also slightly odd as they stood out like sore thumbs amongst the swimwear clad crowds. We thought it was unusual that they were happy to pose for photos with all and sundry until we went for a walk and discovered that the pool complex was hosting a ‘Military and Emergency Services Community Fun and Exhibition Day’ that included local TV coverage. It was all coming to an end as we discovered this, so no idea what else it involved. I was too embarrased to ask for a proper photo, so got an ‘on-the-hoofie’ instead.
Ace Number Two: The Valley Of The Beautiful Women, aka The Szépasszony Valley. Not only does this small wine region produce some of Hungary’s finest wines but the small picturesque horseshoe-shaped valley which hosts the cellars is situated an easy 1km walk from town (and fortuitously, only a mere 200m stroll from our camp). There are 200 cellars in all, carved into the rock sides of the valley and nearly 50 are open to the public, offering a myriad of wine tasting, wine drinking, wine buying and food eating options. The mature trees and steep sides of the valley offer shade on a sunny evening and it is perhaps the most genial and accessible wine tasting experience I have had to date. It was also a bargain. Six 100ml glasses of wine and three bottles to take away cost us only £30. The famed wine of the region is Egri Bikavér, aka ‘Bulls Blood’. This bold and robust red wine is always a blend of multiple varieties with Kékfrankos (no, I’d never heard of it either) as a major component. The ‘Bulls Blood’ name apparently originates from when the Hungarians unexpectedly and miraculously won a 16th century battle against the Ottomans. The legend says that the soldiers got their strength from drinking wine into which their womenfolk had mixed bull’s blood, and the name stuck. They also do a mean rosé.
The old town area of the city was very lovely and again was another place that was clean, tidy and well cared for. The city’s grandiose cathedral basillica, completed in 1836 and sporting some impressive Corinthian columns is apparently Hungary’s second largest religious building.
There was also a well preserved 17th C minaret, one of the three left standing in Hungary and one of the most northern remaining minarets left from Ottoman rule in Europe. Its associcated mosque no longer exists, but in 2016 a Turkish Muslim resident of Eger was permitted to call the Muslim prayer from its balcony, 327 years after the last call. Eger also sports the requisite castle on a hill. In 1552 it famously managed to resist attack and seige by a Turkish army of 35,000-40,000 soldiers. Despite being defended by a mere 2,100-2,300, the siege failed and the Turks suffered heavy casualties. A total of 1,700 of the defenders survived. After that Turks besieged the castle again in 1596, resulting in a Turkish victory. They had to have the last word, obviously. On our wanderings we criss-crossed the main square a few times and on one occasion happened upon the tail end of some sort of ceremony that I think had something to do with the high school graduating class. All the boys were in white shirts, black ties and black trousers, the girls all in white ballgown-style dresses. They had been doing some sort of dancing, which we missed, and then there were some speeches and many photos taken by proud parents. All around town there were USA-style ‘Class of 2024’ framed photo boards proudly displayed in various shops and office windows. It was great to see this milestone observed and celebrated by the whole town.
We had a very delicious meal out at a nationally renowned restaurant called Macok (pronounced Mah-chock, so not smutty at all). It is apparently Hungary’s 12th best restaurant yet our meal only cost the same as a decent pub dinner. There is a lot to love about Hungary.
After three nights in Eger we headed south to a place called Tiszaszölös. There was a National Park near here, Hortobágy, but it had limited camping and was more the sort of place one drives to and through to appreciate. There was a heatwave forecast for the next 4-5 days, so with temperatures between 32 and 37 deg C expected we decided to find somewhere to stay with some access to water. What we found was not a rustic lakeside or riverside camp, but a tiny private campsite with a very beautiful swimming pool.
It was not really close to any major attractions but we thought that a couple of days sat by the pool whilst it was uncomfortably hot would be a splendid way to waste our time. Owned by a Dutch couple called Rueben and Aneta, who had a very adorable dog called Benke, the property was about 2 acres, space for five vans, three B&B rooms in their house and two glamping trailers.
The place definitely had a ‘camping-in-Rueben-&-Aneta’s-garden-during-a-lazy-house-party-weekend-where-you-arrive-knowing-no-one-and-leave-two-days-later-than-planned-with-some-new-friends’ vibe. Our first evening on site co-incided with our hosts’ weekly Goulash Soup Evening.
Cooked over an open fire and served with bread at a long table, it was a great opportunity to meet our fellow campers. It was an international affair with Dutch, Belgians, Swiss and Germans as the other guests. They all spoke excellent English, the Dutch also spoke German, the German-speaking Swiss also spoke French as did the Flemish(essentially Dutch)-speaking Belgians and the conversation gloriously swirled around multiple languages, jokes being told several times in different tongues with us all appretiating the variously repeated punchlines. Sign language and wine helped too, of course. We managed to struggle out for a bike ride on our first day, taking in some of the epic paved bike path loop that circles the nearby Tisza river and lake.
The sleek surface of the path was to be commended, but there was a 2km, pot-holed, gravel road to get to it which majorly rattled the teeth given our suspension-free machines. After that outburst of activity, and with the heatwave established, we opted out of all physical activity/sightseeing/exploring and opted to sitting by, and in, the pool for the next few days. It was bliss.
Rueben had discovered a ground fridge cellar in his garden when he bought it several years ago. This brick built, bunker style room, half underground and covered with sod and grass would have acted as the family’s cool room in the past. He had restored it, converting it into his wine cellar where he also hosts wine tasting evenings. This was a thoroughly marvellous place to spend an hour or so at the end of a hot day, sipping wines and sharing stories. Rueben had learnt that, when she was a very young girl, his neighbour’s mother had been one of about 100 local people that had used the bunker as an air raid shelter one night to protect themselves from a Russian bombing raid. She was too old to visit it now that it had been restored, but she was very pleased that it was being looked after given how much it meant to the people of the village.
As well as the pool area, the site also had a great communal area for socializing, equiped with fans and mosquito nets and a beer and wine stocked fridge with an honesty system of payment. To (mis)quote Kevin Costner’s 1987 movie, The Field Of Dreams, “Build it and they will come”. Our hosts built it, we came and enjoyed it, we struggled to leave it. But eventually all good things must come to and end, so armed with the contact details of some new friends: Robert and Christine from The Netherlands, and Benedikt, Susanne & family from Germany, we said our goodbyes to everyone on site and begrudgingly drove away.
Our next stop was Pécs (pronounce Pay-ssh), Hungary’s fifth largest city. We had made this a long driving day (for us) and schlepped the 350km to the south west of the country. In doing this we had come close to, but not stopped, in Budapest. We had plans to return here in several weeks for a rendezvous with my Mum and Step-Dad, so we bypassed it this time. Our stop in Pécs was pinned on one important factor. Two weeks ago I had semi-randomly chosen the main post office here as the postal address for our 4th of July UK general election postal ballot papers to be sent out to. Bums we may be, but bums with a good sense of civic duty are we. We only had one night here, so our ability to vote rested on the efficiency of the UK and Hungarian postal systems….
We finally arrived at our campsite mid-afternoon, heatwave ongoing, and melted whilst we checked in with the grand-daughter of the family run business, Katinka. Luckily there were lots of mature trees so we selected a shady site and got settled, whilst continuing to sweat. The city centre was only a few km away so we opted to cycle in as this was going to be much cooler than walking or faffing around getting a bus. We easily located the post office, which was actually a rather grand old building called the ‘Postal Palace’. It was beautifully cool inside and devoid of any other customers. A variety of inactive clerks were sat at various windows which were arranged in a huge semi circle of counters. We approached one, had a difficult initial conversation using Google Translate, and were told to take a ticket at the entrance. Ticket taken we waited 30s then were called back to the same window that we had first approached. Comforting to know that idiotic beaurocracy reigns supreme wherever you are! We then attempted to have the same conversation with the same clerk, who then disappeared and returned with a colleague who could speak a little more English. After 10 minutes of us trying to explain that we had had two letters sent to this address post restante (a fairly internationally recognised concept) they advised us that we could arrange to have letters sent to this address to collect. Bingo! Now we just had to explain that we had done that 2 weeks ago. Finally, we understood each other and they disappeared for ten minutes to a back room with our passports in hand to check if the letters were there.
No they weren’t.
Oh well, we tried.
We then spent an hour or so exploring the centre of Pécs which was quite delightful. The ancient Old Town was another unexpectedly lovely mix of architectures, squares, old buildings, churches and mosques. The country’s oldest university is here as well as it being one of Hungary’s cultural centres. We went up to the cathedral which was another picturesque offering of pale, newly cleaned, stone overlooking a small square. We arrived just as a service had ended and as the cathedral emptied the square filled up with another batch of young people with their families. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best and many of the girls were carrying bouquets of flowers. Again it looked like something to do with high school graduation. We waited for ten minutes or so for the crowds to clear before going inside. Unfortunately the man with the keys was turning lights off and ushering the stragglers out before he locked up, so we got no more than a quick peek of the interior before we were evicted.
We continued our wanderings a’bike but it was too hot to do much more than find a bar with shady outside spot with some breeze and sample a glass or two of something cold.. So we did that instead. Compared to the offerings in Germany, Poland and Slovakia, the Hungarian beer had been a bit underwhelming. Until we got to Pécs, where the local brew was very refreshing and revitalising. This late afternoon pit-stop gave us time to reflect on our failed attempt to vote, the unexpected beauty of this lesser known place and the opportunity to do a bit of people watching. The bar was hosting a book signing (genre unknown) whilst we were there and this seemed to attract an influx of student-types. They congregated self-consciously in a loose large group near us (despite oodles of space elsewhere), moving chairs, moving positions, moving tables, in fact doing anything except seemingly buying drinks or buying books. Oh, to be young!
We whizzed home with the warm wind in our hair and stopped at Lidl to get stuff for a cold platter dinner. No way any cooking was happening in this heat. In the morning our previously shady site had become a roasting inferno of morning sunshine so we ate our breakfast under a tree nowhere near Davide and awaited the arrival of the boss, her Grandma, whom Katinka had advised us yesterday would be around to collect our dues before we left. Grandma apparently spoke good German, as well as her native Hungarian, but no English. She did indeed arrive and then tried to charge us more than Katinka had quoted us, which was 500 HUF more than the exact money that I had brought to the office. I fixed her with a steely stare, showed her my fistful of Forints and said “Katinka” to her. That seemed to get the message across in a very un-British and brusque way and she aquiesced. Looking back, I realise that I was quibbling over £1.08, which is a bit tight, so I hope I didn’t get Katinka in trouble!
Pécs is quite close to the Croatian border, and that is where we headed next. It seemed a short stay in Hungary, but to paraphrase the well known words of Herr Schwarzenegger: ‘We’ll be back”.