Tripping Hungary to Pécs.
I found paperclips, en masse. In the small yard of a small house in a busy shopping street of Europe’s cultural capital 2010, Pécs. They were dangling on a clothes-line in a cultural centre that we accidentally ran into. To start off, we had the glorious idea to see a bit of Hungary while the weather is still nice. And with ‘we’, I mean nine + two (who were travelling independently and we met them in Pécs) exchange students, all female.
On Saturday morning, at 9:30, we were standing at Budapest Keleti and were told there is no way to get nine train tickets to Pécs before 11:45. A bad start, we thought, but it gave us time for a round of coffee and a view of Lisa’s apartment. When we finally arrived in Pécs, had settled into our hostel and gotten some food, we mingled with the rest of the tourists who were all around the city and tried to get an overview. This is when we found the paperclips during a book sale in the yard.
Pécs is a very lively place these days, due to its role of European Cultural Capitol, which then also explained the Örökség Fesztivál that we burst into, where wine and Pálinka were offered next to food, crafted goods and bakery specialties, of which I don’t remember the name.
Pécs is a very lively place these days, due to its role of European Cultural Capitol, which then also explained the Örökség Fesztivál that we burst into, where wine and Pálinka were offered next to food, crafted goods and bakery specialties, of which I don’t remember the name.
It took us about half an hour to finish a small shot of Pálinka, and we stood fascinated when we found the bakery stand and didn’t comprehend what the people working there were doing. Climbing up the stairs of a city wall watchtower was slightly scary; balancing the plastic shot glass, but getting down was adventurous. I still hadn’t finished the 50% alc. Pálinka and the stairs were obviously not made for easy ascent OR descent.
We didn’t want to miss a traditional folk dance show and hence had only 45 minutes left to finish our Blitz-sightseeing. Our hopes of seeing the show in front of the gigantic four-towered St. Peter and Paul’s Basilica were destroyed by the rain that had just started when we were walking through the rather unspectacular ruins of a Turkish bath.
We didn’t want to miss a traditional folk dance show and hence had only 45 minutes left to finish our Blitz-sightseeing. Our hopes of seeing the show in front of the gigantic four-towered St. Peter and Paul’s Basilica were destroyed by the rain that had just started when we were walking through the rather unspectacular ruins of a Turkish bath.
Pécs was filled with students who had their first days of University and were running through town in gorilla costumes and wigs during their introduction days. We passed them on our way through town and towards the youth centre, were the dance had already started and put us into sheer amazement. My expectations are considerably los, but got exceeded mile high. On the stage of a crowded room, a large group of dancers was spinning and swirling around, clapping hands and stomping feet. A moment later, a single dancer worked the floor and created a small cloud of dust around his body, stomping and pounding. He got company by his fellow male dancers in shiny black boots, whirling up their girl’s beautiful, large, flower-printed skirts and aprons. The stomping, clapping and slapping the shafts of the boots created such a rhythm that only the fiddlers of the band were playing and the audience was carried off. After the dance, it was only a matter of seconds before the applause turned into a beat, to motivate the group to dance on. The girl dancers re-appeared in new costumes, with braided hair and colorful ribbons, singing loud, cheerful but to us incomprehensible folksongs. While they disappeared to change their costumes once more, the men performed an impressive stick dance. The costumes, singing, clapping, snipping fingers and stomping was mind blowing.
Still swaying along to the rhythms in our head, we left to find a concert of the Anselmo Crew (to be fair, we only got to know the name afterwards). A mix of ska, pop, bongos and accordion music awaited us and we started dancing off our awe from the show, making our own. Eventually, the singer started talking about us, or to us, but we didn’t understand anyways.
Together with an American guy Lauren and Leila had picked up at the hostel – which, by the way, is very recommendable: the Big Fish Hostel – we walked to a Lonely Planet –suggested pub called Korhely (which means ‘drunkard’). The menu boasted with creations like ‘Orgasm’, ‘Chastity Belt’ or ‘Hard-rock Salad’, the walls were plastered in old newspapers (a empty frame hung on the wall where the article announced a 3-1 victory of the Hungarian soccer team over Brazil), and the floor was covered in straw and peanut shells. It was 11:30, and the kitchen was still open, and when we got (and had eaten) the food we decided to come back for lunch the next day.
Together with an American guy Lauren and Leila had picked up at the hostel – which, by the way, is very recommendable: the Big Fish Hostel – we walked to a Lonely Planet –suggested pub called Korhely (which means ‘drunkard’). The menu boasted with creations like ‘Orgasm’, ‘Chastity Belt’ or ‘Hard-rock Salad’, the walls were plastered in old newspapers (a empty frame hung on the wall where the article announced a 3-1 victory of the Hungarian soccer team over Brazil), and the floor was covered in straw and peanut shells. It was 11:30, and the kitchen was still open, and when we got (and had eaten) the food we decided to come back for lunch the next day.
Sunday greeted us with grey skies, and by the time we arrived at the main square, rain set it. We drifted around the stands of the wine fest anyways, and slowly moved towards the Mosque Church. Right. The Mosque Church was built by the Turks during the Ottoman occupation of Hungary, and is now used a Christian church. The mix is unusual to say the least. The interior architecture does give a more funky flair to Christianity than what we’re used to. We waited inside a while for the torrential downpour to stop, but it wouldn’t happen. With umbrellas and wet feet, we walked over to the Basilica. Inside, every inch of wall was painted, the immensely high ceilings were covered in biblical stories (really, from Adam, Eve and Lilith to Moses in Egypt to Jesus riding the donkey to Jerusalem), in the crypt, paintings of Bethlehem and Jerusalem were next to palm tree depictions. Oriental influences were, again, obvious, everything burst with color. In the church’s museum, we sat down on the available chairs, and one after another read out a paragraph from the information sheet. Incredible, how school drilled us.
We stayed at Korhely for a long time, waiting for our clothes to dry, gobbling up peanuts, soups, chips, salads, our main courses, desserts and coffee like there was no tomorrow. Since the rain refused to fully stop, we chose another Lonely Planet café and a Vasarely museum to fill up our afternoons, before killing time on the train playing games and arguing about the origins of Santa Claus.
If there is a conclusion to this weekend, it would be this: the universe was good to us, this weekend.
If there is a conclusion to this weekend, it would be this: the universe was good to us, this weekend.