Southern Hungary is a dream

We arrived by train in Pecs, Hungary, without much of a map of southern Hungary. Well, we had a photo of a map, saved on my camera. So between the small city of Pecs, and the next small city of Mohacs, we saw a lot of bad roads, dirt roads, and grass tracks. The evening we emerged from the train, the light was soft. We set out to avoid the nasty main road, and asked a handful of people for directions. We were surprised that the older generation spoke German, fluently. This helped, because Hungarian is really foreign. Really foreign. We cycled by huge fields of sunflowers and wheat. We cycled up a hill - lots of small hills- and into a hilltop weekend village. I can't even describe my delight: a tiny dirt road lead us past little houses, with neatly tended front gardens. There were cherries on the trees, apricots, apples. A teenage boy rode by on a horse, a woman with a red headscarf watched us from her porch. The sun was setting and the air was cool. If this isn't summer perfection, I don't know what is.
The next day we took some wrong turns, and we even cycled once through a field of straw being harvested, to be turned back by a laughing farmer with little teeth. [No road this way he seemed to be saying. You crazy idiots|.
We met up with the Danube in Mohacs, were we took a ferry. No bridge to the other side. Heading towards the Serbian border, we saw another cross country biker. In one week, he's the only cyclist we have seen on the Danube trail. Hmm. Is it because the temperature is 37 degrees celsius? Could be.
Both Michal and I agreed we could do a whole different cycle trip, just within Hungary.

Biking the Balkans

Our route, July/August 2011

I have to admit, it all started with"Prime Suspects, the Last Witness." In which Helen Mirren investigates the murder of a Bosnian Refugee who escaped the conflict in former Yugoslavia. Since then, I've been hooked on the Balkans.

July 3rd, we start in the southern Hungarian city of Pecs, to bike through Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Albania and Macedonia and then beyond. This blog should chronicle a journey of uncertain roadways, the avoidance of landmines, homemade wine and nature camping. It will also chronicle the less sexy aspects of avoiding endless tunnels, keeping hydrated in 30plus degrees celsius, Hangry bickering (hungry+angry=hangry), and pilfered saddle bags. Ratko Mladic, Bosnian Serb military leader has just been sent to the Hague for war crimes, and Josip Broz Tito's Bunker has been renovated into a contemporary art museum. No better time to explore!

Grandparents, family.

1. We live with babička and dědeček (grandma and grandpa) at the moment, until the bike trip begins. Life has turned into a series of accepting and refusing food, at different intervals. "Pojďte dál, posaďte se" says grandma, "come in, sit down." grandpa is forgetful, but very affectionate. "Jsem rád, že jste tady na návštěvě," he says, wiping his eyes. "I'm glad you're here for a visit."
2. We live upstairs, so he must think we are visiting quite often.
Grandma is hyperactive. She sews a lot, and recently modeled a mustard yellow pant suit she made, which she then wore to the supermarket.

And the caramel. Grandma also makes caramel. It's the life breath of the house, and she is very proud of it. They put it in coffee, in tea, on fruit, on dinner. If you try to refuse, you might as well be insulting grandma's own mother. "Everyone loves my caramel," she is known to say. Or perhaps they just don't have the strength to refuse it....

3. Parents live in the street nearby. They have a lovely view of the woods and the fields. 4. Michal's dad feeds the three legged neighbor dog, so obviously he comes around during barbeques.

5. Eva and Martin are married. Martin is Michal's brother.

6. Marketa is Michal's sister.

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Michal's first flat

Robert and Michal shared an intimate sized room their first year after finishing university in the big, bad city of Prague. The flat is a ten minute bus ride from the metro stop Chodov, maybe a 30 minute commute to the center. Recently, we had the luck to stay there for a night, and as none of the current roommates were there, the boys could reminisce. "That's my poster," Michal said. It was still on the wall. "And that's my microwave," added Robert.

The next morning I made the mistake of asking: "How do I get to Prague from here?" (What a tourist, Michal rolled his eyes. This IS Prague).

Straight Up Hubby Love

(Which one is your hubby?)

I just couldn't stop from mentioning this Facebook group I found recently on my friend's sister's page, "I love my husband." With only a few snarky remarks, this page seems to be as devotional as its title suggests, and after sifting through hundreds of love pictures, I have posted my favorites.

Straight up Hubby Love.