Hungary

Days 122-125 – Szeged

After we had packed our belongings back into the van and left our homely city centre pad, it was time to move on. There was of course one small issue that remained to be dealt with. Whatever had caused the van’s flat tyre was still proving to be a torn in our side (or more literally, a nail in the tyre). So we set off in search of finding somewhere, on route, where the tyre could be fixed.

There was however, nowhere to be found. We had driven as far as we could but the slow puncture didn’t seem so slow anymore. Parked up in a lay by on a Hungarian motorway, we set about changing the wheel. It was minus six degrees, the snow had begun to fall again and we had an audience of eastern European truck drivers.

Things didn’t start off too bad. The van was jacked up and we’d retrieved the spare wheel, so it was just a matter of removing the damaged one. Here we came unstuck, or to be more specific the wheel was stuck. The issue was rusty nuts, a problem no man wants to face. It could have been the malnutrition caused by living on van sandwiches for four months, but no matter how hard we tried, we embarrassingly couldn’t get shift them.

At this moment a couple of Slovakian truck drivers leap from there cabs. Obviously we thought they’d come to have a closer look and a laugh at the comedy of errors. ‘Help?!’ the burlier of the two shouts. ‘Yes’ we insisted, ‘Please’. Thinking he was going to retrieve a more heavy duty spanner or magical device from his truck.

Actually he took the cross iron out of Toj’s hand, applied it to said nuts and booted it as hard as he could. Within a few minutes the wheel was off while we stood there ashamed but grateful and he smugly retreated back to his cab. So with the help of some Slovakian muscle we were all sorted and on our way again. No matter what people say about the erratic driving habits of these juggernaut jockeys, we owe a lot to this particular one.

We were now cold and dirty but fully mobile at least. We were bound to a small town in the south called Szeged. Here we had planned to try out a phenomenon called ‘Couch Surfing’. This works using an online network where people offer travellers a spare bed/couch for the night. So we emailed to ask if we could stay.

Our host was a lovely girl called Szuza, a geology student who had offered us her sofa bed for a night or two. There is something a little peculiar about turning up on the doorstep of someone you’ve never met with your bags. Unfamiliar to all parties, as we were all new to this social concept, at first you don’t really know what to say apart from ‘your house is lovely’ and ‘thank you’.

Luckily Szuza was prepared with a little 4pm ice-breaker known as Palinka. This is a rather potent, Hungarian sprit, which when washed down with a few beers is bound to cause severe drunkenness. Fortunately/unfortunately, Szuza had acquired copious amounts of this home brewed fuel from her birthday the night before. With this came a few of her friends and our stay began with a post-birthday. This resulted in Toj sleeping on an uncomfortable, unrecognisable device, which we later learned to be an old school washing machine.

This welcoming experience set the tone for our entire stay in Szeged. Szuza was not only generous with her home and time, but also with her friends and knowledge of the city she lives in. We were given a brilliant (but hung over) tour of this pretty place, which included good food and hot wine. For the day we walked and talked, ate and drank Szeged.

In a city like this, which barely gives tourism a second thought, it would be easy to walk around and learn nothing about what you see. With a local give however, you are given information which rangers from historical to anecdotal. It brings a place to life, not just in a figurative way, but also into the life of a local.

Travelled = 2728 Miles

Day 124 – A tiring attempt to leave the EU

Our time with Szuza was not all sight seeing and parties. We had hatched a plan to drive with Szuza to Novi Grad, a city across the boarder in neighbouring Serbia. The plan was to stay with a friend of hers, we would carry on to Belgrade and see would return back to Szeged. So we spent the morning getting our puncture repaired and then set off to leave the EU boarder.

Having heard a few horror stories we approached the EU boarder. With a native Hungarian speaker, leaving the EU into no-man’s land was a breeze. This linguistic advantage would not be so possible with neighbouring politics however. We approached the Serbian side of the boarder with some trepidation. To be honest things did not go particularly well from the moment we reached the barrier. ‘Passports’ a surly voice said, ‘Ok, now your documents’. We handed him the papers from the van to which he replied ‘No your papers’, the guard had lost a little patience, ‘Your green card’.

Oh no. Having not originally planned to go to Serbia, we didn’t have one. The boarder guard informed us we must buy one but insisted he keep Toj’s passport. Through the barrier we drove to pull up on Serbian soil where he said to get the matter sorted. Having been told where to go, we didn’t anticipate another stop by the customs officer, who angrily brought the van to a prompt halt. We tried to explain we had been sent to buy a green card but this was of no interest to him. So there and the van was searched and the treat of the police were summoned. With the ease of open EU boarders so far, this was our first board control and our first search. Whilst we waited nervously for the police we were question and things were poked and prodded (luckily not ourselves). We explained and he released us to try and retrieve Toj’s passport.

We faced another window and another stern face ‘How much is a green card?’ we enquired. The woman taps the computer keys and rifles papers. The wait seemed like hours and then she uttered ‘240 euros’. Eventually picking up our jaws off the floor, we faced no choice, just the harsh fact we could afford this expense for just over a weeks travel in Serbia. So we returned to inform our Hungarian friend and updated the guard that we were not going any further into Serbia but back into Hungary. The customs guard escorted the van, in the style of a pole barer, back in the direction of the EU boarder still without Toj’s passport. It took a chain of Serbian whispers to get a message back to us that his passport would be returned as we left Serbian soil at the barrier. All that now awaited us was a two hour queue back into Hungary.

Szuza kindly took us back in for one more night, which was filled with decision and advice about which direction we should now go.

Travelled = 2753 Miles

Days 125-127 – Pecs

Eventually the decision was made to move toward Croatia, across the southern Hungarian countryside, via one last Hungarian city. Pecs is a beautiful, ancient city, cram packed with UNESCO sites. For is it was only a stop over to replan and regroup. Our brief exploration of this small city revealed a place with a huge history. In temperatures which ranged from -6 to -8, it was a truly atmospheric place for a short stay.

Travelled = 2878 Miles