Mush! Hah! Steel yourself! Onward, to Germanytown!

8/5/11

Budapest, Hungary

My trip turned 10,000 km last week. Happy 10k-k to you...

It was a bright and sunny day, in the year of Our Lorde Two-aught-ought-to-eleven. I found myself alone in the great city of Budapest, staring up at a blue sky through the green leaves of a large tree. For an instant, I closed my eyes, and I let my mind wander, resting for a moment wherever it desired to be in the world. I was not in Budapest; I was in Sicily. I was not in a green, springtime park, half-asleep and typing away on my computer; I was playing football in the fallen autumn leaves, wearing a Chicago Bears sweatshirt and looking forward to some chicken soup or meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

You gotta climb to get these views, but your shadow gets it for free; western edge of Transylvania

It was not undecipherable Hungarian that was drifting across the grasses, lifting in the air and descending on my passive ears like elevator muzac or what you hear while shopping at a supermarket; it was the frenzied tales of close friends, rife with humor and vivid description and irony at every turn. God knows I love irony, especially on the turns. Needless to say, there are times out here when my isolation is palpable. Funny how loneliness could ever reach a maximum in the middle of an enormous, bustling city park on a perfect Saturday spring afternoon. But that's just the way things go (if you're black you might as well not shooow up on the street, 'less you wanna draw the heat... etc. etc. etc.).

Something they love to eat in Romania and Hungary: bread with pig or duck lard, salt, paprika, and (optional) onions; delicious!

All loneliness aside, I am enjoying different parts of this trip now. Because it is extremely difficult to learn more than a few key phrases of a given language without having much time to practice, I find myself keeping silent more often in a day, riding for longer stretches and finding the easiest spot to sleep. Indeed, in the last two days to reach Budapest, I rode 153 km each day and cut across the flat plains of Hungary like a jackknife slicing through some soft cheese, preferably the Edam I just picked up. This distance is a record in terms of solo travel on this trip and might just beat the 2-day record that Sean and I set getting through Wales and safely to Paul & Deb's in Weston. It still cannot compare with the amount of cycling I was doing in my trip home from school (average 160 km per day over 10 days), but here my load is far heavier (probably a solid and/or liquid 25 pounds more). Still, it left me feeling quite wrecked and ready to enjoy a rest in Budapest. Last night, that rest was shattered when I discovered my rear rim was cracked in two separate spots. A quick internet search, which was preceded by an instinct-check and followed by a hole-test (this is where I see if the hole is actually a hole or just an optical illusion; yup, it's a legit hole, alright), made me seek out a bicycle shop as quickly as possible.

What you got there is a hole where a hole does not belong

Today, being Sunday, will not have many places be open; however, I was lucky enough to come across one with the help of a cyclist here in Budapest. I am typing this while waiting for the shop to open and the rain to clear up enough to cycle without becoming soaked. After the purchase of a new rim, I should be on my way to clear skies in the north. Right, they're out of those, I forgot. On my way to gray and cloudy and wet and heavy skies to the north!

But before I do go, allow me to say that I have switched ever so slightly from stop-and-smell-the-roses mode to burn-a-path-through-Eastern-Europe mode in order to reach Frankfurt by the 21^st of May.

What a pleasant welcome to Hungarian national roads! Too bad they are the only ones in decent shape...

According to this map, I am only a couple of finger-lengths away! It doesn't say how many hours of cycling a finger-length is, but I would guess it's only two or three. That means... I'll be there by lunchtime! Oh, but I don't want wiener schnitzel for dinner tonight. I'll figure something out.

Funny, as I sit here in the small seating area of the hostel in central Budapest, I am hit with a blast of cool, damp air as someone walks outside into the rain. Instantly, I am reminded of the times Sean and I spent sheltering ourselves from the wet weather in Ireland. Even the smells are familiar, though here, with everyone being a smoker and smoking still being allowed indoors in some places, there is a different aroma that brings me back to childhood.

Budapest: Home to what is purportedly the world's largest artificial ice skating rink, now just another ugly concrete bed for four-headed cars

I am about ready to get back on the road, in spite of the weather and partly because of it. After all, not many will be out there experiencing what it is actually like to be moving through the rain! Is there a reason for that? No good one I can see.