OK, we couldn’t really leave it at that. Following is our last day in Keszthely and our journey home…
We spent Wednesday morning involved with our last trip to market. It being a bright, sunny late summer day after several days of rain, there were lots of folks there. Therefore, lots of good shopping; good for Zia and Vera, not so much for me.
On our way back to the car, we needed to cross at the “zebra crossing.” Halfway across, a car came barreling down the street, stopping just barely in time to avoid sending the several of us in the intersection to a better place. I muttered, under my breath, “What are you going to do buddy, mow us down?” and the gentleman next to me replied, “yeah, they don’t stop for much here in Keszthely” – in English. The gentleman, as it turns out, lived in Vancouver, Canada (eh?). His first wife died, and he returned home – which it turns out is the same village that Vera was born and raised in – where he married his second wife and moved to Keszthely. It is indeed a small world sometimes.
1:30 a.m. The alarm on my watch is signaling that it is time to get out of bed and go shower for the journey home. I managed to grab about 3 hours of sleep, and was feeling pretty good. After all, the trip to Budapest involved driving on the Autobahn. And I was driving. Insert large grin here. An hour later found us barreling down the Autobahn, with really bad headlights, at 180 kph (that’s 110 mph, for you slow pokes at home). Peter would occasionally look over at the speedometer and nod his head, so I must have been doing ok. I would like to have gone faster, but the tires were only rated to 190, so I couldn’t push it – dang!
Budapest is referred to as the “Imperial City,” although you couldn’t prove it to me as I drove around town looking for a sign that lead to “Figgy” Airport. They put just enough of them up to get you completely lost. So, fair reader, here is the picture; it is dark, I am driving, with Peter navigating, through some pretty seedy neighborhoods. Peter is pointing directions for me to turn, which I can’t see because it is dark in the car. At this point, we have established that I can take direction in English, German and Hungarian, but I am "in a Budapest" ("you can’t have" directions or signs, sir) and we are relying on Peter's memory, as his night vision is bad and he can't really see where we are going in the dark. After a long, roundabout drive, we finally made it to the airport about 45 minutes after we had planned on being there.
After standing in line for way too long to check our bags, we went down to the cafeteria for a melancholy cup of coffee with Peter and Vera, and then made our tearful goodbyes. I hope their drive home was less eventful than our drive there. I miss them, and am looking forward to the next trip.
Anyway, into the line for the “security vetting.” This involves some Hungarian guy yelling at you in Hungarian, until you figure out that he wants you to take off you belt, and put your change in the little basket. Then you can pass. You know I felt better about security at this point. I needn’t have worried.
We ended up spending an extra half hour in Budapest, as there was something wrong with the plane(!). Turns out it was just an air conditioning issue, but still… We used the extra time to blow the last of our Forint on a “very splendid and worthwhile” shot glass. And off to Frankfurt…
… where total chaos reigns. International flights are directed to cues, where you wait for the security vetting they didn’t do in Budapest. We had an hour and a half to make our connecting flight. It looked pretty grim. Adding insult to injury, the line passed directly by the Duty Free Shop where I had planned on buying a bottle of 18-year-old single malt scotch on the way out. But, noooooo. No liquid on the plane, sir.
So you make it to the front of the line, and you get one of the most thorough searches that I have ever received. Wand and pat down, involving some touching that, in another context, would probably get you slapped (and evidently has, according to some of the video from London we watched on CNN). We lost all of my highlighters from my pack (liquid ink). We were carrying sinus pills and aspirin with us that needed to be checked by another security person (who warned us that if we were to do this again, we should plan on bringing a Doctor’s note for the medication. I’ll remember that the next time I am leaving for Europe and expecting a terrorist attack). From there to one last security check of our passports (where Zia was propositioned by the female security guard), and off to the plane.
We were met at the airport by my Mom and Dad. It was great to see them. They took us home, where, I believe, we made it a whole 2 hours before we fell asleep.
*****
And so, here we are, home, safe and sound and gearing up for Oktoberfest. If you are bored, come check out the band. We are in Sandy, Oregon September. 9th, the Mt. Angel Oktoberfest September 14th through the 19th, and in Bend on September 30th. Hopefully we will see you there!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
8/15 Keszthely, the adventure ends...
We took a drive around the lake yesterday. Seems like an easy thing to say, but this is a several hour undertaking. By the time you add the stops in, it takes all day. So again, with Dave at the wheel, off we go.
First stop was "Beautiful Lookout," which sounds much better in Hungarian (Szep Kilato (Szhape kill-AH-toe), in case you were wondering). A panoramic view of the western end of the lake that was beautiful. Isn’t it nice when the name matches up with the reality?
Several miles down the road was the treat in our drive. Tihany announces its presence from the road with a glimpse of the twin towers of the church, seen just barely over the hill. A drive up a hill and you are treated with the view of the Baroque wonder, needless to say our first stop.
A small fee (naturally) gets you in. The tour starts in the sanctuary of the church. It is very ornate, without being rococo. Lots of fancy statuary and ceiling painting - look, you know exactly what I am talking about if your high school history class covered the Baroque, and if not, go look it up right now. Words are not going to describe the splendor of this. It’s pretty cool.
From there the tour leads into the catacombs below. There you find the grave of the only political figure to survive the historical "reconstruction" of the communist rule. King Andrew the First was the fourth king of Hungary (1047-1060), and was a direct descendant of Arpad, the guy who founded the country. From there the tour continues through several lower rooms covering the turbulent history of the church, monastery, and region. Balaton was on the border for a lot of the wars with the Turkish Empire, and as a result the history of this region is pretty bloody. Combine that with the period of Communist rule, where the Catholic religion was "discouraged," and you find it a pretty interesting read (and the plaques are in English, so you can!). From there you move into an art museum, with works by famous local artists. As always, some of these are things that leave you wondering "what were they on?" and some of these are so moving that you find it difficult to tear yourself away.
Moving behind the church you find a stunning view of the eastern portion of the lake. It is very Mediterranean looking, with a couple of ferry boats, and lots of sail boats. On our lightly cloudy day the water was a brilliant blue. It was a nice place to "just be" for a minute and reflect on the church and art.
Tihany is famous for a blue type of enamel for pottery. Needless to say that tourists have ample opportunity to obtain some of this pottery for a small fee as you travel back to your car (if you don’t mind spots of white or a really weird cartoon cow on the side. We took a pass. I am sure that there is an artisan in the area that doesn’t manufacture for tourists, but we did not have time to find them).
From Tihany, we moved down the hill to Balatonfured for lunch. We ate at a nice Ettrem on the side of the pier, so you could watch the idiots in the sail boats come in and leave. It is the kind of place that are McMineman’s on the Columbia aspires to be, but will never pull off. Zia had a bean soup that is famous in the region. Beans, smoked ham hock, and smoked Hungarian kolbas. She says it was to die for. I had a zucchini, stuffed with freshly chopped and sautéed vegetables. I don’t know that I would die for it, but it was pretty darned good. We hung out there for a bit and enjoyed the view, then onward.
The rest of the trip was by car, without stops - well, we did stop and buy Zia a new dirndl. The weather turned on us in the afternoon, and our pretty sunny day turned to rain, only a quick shower, but, as it was late, on to home we went.
It is a very pretty drive. If you get here, I highly recommend it.
*****
Today was another trip to Hevis to show the new house guests the spa, so that they could take the tour. Vera went with us, which was fun as she is pretty hard to get out of the house. Zia and Vera had a good time shopping, and I had a good time razzing them. A nice lunch, and then home for a nap. Hey, I gotta save up, vacation ends soon. ( Dave was bought the Tourist Vest , he forgot to mention !!!! )
*****
In reviewing the journal entries of this trip, I find myself thinking that we should probably change the name to "A Cynics Guide to Hungary and Serbia." I assure you, however, that you are really missing something by not coming to visit this beautiful place. The scenery is fantastic, the people amazingly nice, it is a great place to vacation. My cynicism, I think, comes from my frustration and anger with myself for not being better able to communicate, and for not being better prepared for culture and customs. Obviously, I have my homework set out for me.
My thanks to Lali and Adrianna, Feri and Ani, Lajos and Bori, Emese, Joe and Adam, Beethoven-Basci and Mozart-Neni, Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni, Kiskazi, Zsuzsa, Klaudia, Gabie and Csbi, Gabor and Rita, the guests from Germany, Mega-Magdi, the nice folks at the news stand who provide me with my English newspaper fix, the many "ice" vendors in Serbia and Hungary who provided us with the all-important gelato fix, and all the people I am probably forgetting, for sharing your country, and more importantly your culture with me. Most importantly, thanks to Peter and Vera, my Inlaws, for opening your home to this wacky American guy, and producing a Zia that I could marry. And thanks to my lovely bride for showing me "home."
*****
And so the adventure ends. Tomorrow we load up. As I understand it, I am expected to take the wheel one more time at 2:00 a.m. (!) and drive us to Figgy Airport (or what ever it’s called). There for the expected "security vetting." We leave Budapest at 6:30 a.m., and, through the magic of television, arrive in Portland the same morning around 11:30ish. Not bad.
Thanks for reading my humble rantings. Hopefully they were more entertaining than a slide show. (Hey Dad, Zia hasn’t seen the Navy show yet. I’ll send her by.) Which, of course, doesn’t get you off the hook. You still get to look at pictures. Find us in the fall. Oktoberfest celebrations start soon!
See ya’ in the flesh sometime soon...
Uncle Dave
*****
"Add on by Zia"
Wow it’s time to go back to the other place I call home . I suppose I too should reflect .
I had a wonderful time showing Dave where I am from , introducing him to my Parents , family members and friends. I enjoyed my time with my parents and I am very sad the time is running out as I type these words.
A message to everyone : Spend time with your Parents , if you had a fight make up , if you haven’t spoken in a week call them , don’t let weeks or months go by without talking to them . Time is not forever and you only have so much time with them . Your parents created you and helped shape you , don’t blame them for your flaws . You control your own destiny after you leave the nest. Sorry if I am being sentimental .
The trip was a combination of happy and sad events , I was lucky and got to spend time with Kyra and Jaden . I helped celebrate a very dear old friends 75 th Birthday . I got to see Family and friends that mean a lot to me and I miss very much. I got to show Dave the Place I still call Home , unfortunately I also watched the home I was born in be torn down , that was painful . I have fond memories of that place especially the Horse barn . Times are changing , the town that used to swarm with people and lived day and night now seems abandoned . The youth has left to find employment all over the world and the elderly keep to themselves. I have hopes that in the future changes will happen so people can return .
The time spent here in Keszthely at the Bed and Breakfast was fun too . My parents make all guests feel at home and show them the culture of Hungary . I had the opportunity to observe this since we had guests the entire time we were here. I learned an important lesson , should I ever want to own and run this place ... Breakfast needs to have a time limit !!!!! Our first set of guests chose what ever time they wanted to eat . It interfered with our plans on some days , they also didn’t get that some people go to bed early ... They came home at 11 pm and were very noisy . I think I’ll make up some polite house rules and translate them into several languages. I stayed up late too but did not run up and down the stairs and yell at my kids... OK enough complaining . I also had a few nice conversations with said guests and it kept me practicing my German.
I will go home and learn another language ... which one I am note sure yet . One that doesn’t relate to the ones I already know . Even if I only learn the basics it will help me some day .
Well this is it for me , I am not going to be able to write more , the next 24 hours will be spent packing and spending last minutes saying everything I have not said already. It is very painful to leave , though I miss our Family and Friends in the US too. I wish the world were smaller so I could be close to every one.
I hope everyone enjoyed this blog
Zia
First stop was "Beautiful Lookout," which sounds much better in Hungarian (Szep Kilato (Szhape kill-AH-toe), in case you were wondering). A panoramic view of the western end of the lake that was beautiful. Isn’t it nice when the name matches up with the reality?
Several miles down the road was the treat in our drive. Tihany announces its presence from the road with a glimpse of the twin towers of the church, seen just barely over the hill. A drive up a hill and you are treated with the view of the Baroque wonder, needless to say our first stop.
A small fee (naturally) gets you in. The tour starts in the sanctuary of the church. It is very ornate, without being rococo. Lots of fancy statuary and ceiling painting - look, you know exactly what I am talking about if your high school history class covered the Baroque, and if not, go look it up right now. Words are not going to describe the splendor of this. It’s pretty cool.
From there the tour leads into the catacombs below. There you find the grave of the only political figure to survive the historical "reconstruction" of the communist rule. King Andrew the First was the fourth king of Hungary (1047-1060), and was a direct descendant of Arpad, the guy who founded the country. From there the tour continues through several lower rooms covering the turbulent history of the church, monastery, and region. Balaton was on the border for a lot of the wars with the Turkish Empire, and as a result the history of this region is pretty bloody. Combine that with the period of Communist rule, where the Catholic religion was "discouraged," and you find it a pretty interesting read (and the plaques are in English, so you can!). From there you move into an art museum, with works by famous local artists. As always, some of these are things that leave you wondering "what were they on?" and some of these are so moving that you find it difficult to tear yourself away.
Moving behind the church you find a stunning view of the eastern portion of the lake. It is very Mediterranean looking, with a couple of ferry boats, and lots of sail boats. On our lightly cloudy day the water was a brilliant blue. It was a nice place to "just be" for a minute and reflect on the church and art.
Tihany is famous for a blue type of enamel for pottery. Needless to say that tourists have ample opportunity to obtain some of this pottery for a small fee as you travel back to your car (if you don’t mind spots of white or a really weird cartoon cow on the side. We took a pass. I am sure that there is an artisan in the area that doesn’t manufacture for tourists, but we did not have time to find them).
From Tihany, we moved down the hill to Balatonfured for lunch. We ate at a nice Ettrem on the side of the pier, so you could watch the idiots in the sail boats come in and leave. It is the kind of place that are McMineman’s on the Columbia aspires to be, but will never pull off. Zia had a bean soup that is famous in the region. Beans, smoked ham hock, and smoked Hungarian kolbas. She says it was to die for. I had a zucchini, stuffed with freshly chopped and sautéed vegetables. I don’t know that I would die for it, but it was pretty darned good. We hung out there for a bit and enjoyed the view, then onward.
The rest of the trip was by car, without stops - well, we did stop and buy Zia a new dirndl. The weather turned on us in the afternoon, and our pretty sunny day turned to rain, only a quick shower, but, as it was late, on to home we went.
It is a very pretty drive. If you get here, I highly recommend it.
*****
Today was another trip to Hevis to show the new house guests the spa, so that they could take the tour. Vera went with us, which was fun as she is pretty hard to get out of the house. Zia and Vera had a good time shopping, and I had a good time razzing them. A nice lunch, and then home for a nap. Hey, I gotta save up, vacation ends soon. ( Dave was bought the Tourist Vest , he forgot to mention !!!! )
*****
In reviewing the journal entries of this trip, I find myself thinking that we should probably change the name to "A Cynics Guide to Hungary and Serbia." I assure you, however, that you are really missing something by not coming to visit this beautiful place. The scenery is fantastic, the people amazingly nice, it is a great place to vacation. My cynicism, I think, comes from my frustration and anger with myself for not being better able to communicate, and for not being better prepared for culture and customs. Obviously, I have my homework set out for me.
My thanks to Lali and Adrianna, Feri and Ani, Lajos and Bori, Emese, Joe and Adam, Beethoven-Basci and Mozart-Neni, Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni, Kiskazi, Zsuzsa, Klaudia, Gabie and Csbi, Gabor and Rita, the guests from Germany, Mega-Magdi, the nice folks at the news stand who provide me with my English newspaper fix, the many "ice" vendors in Serbia and Hungary who provided us with the all-important gelato fix, and all the people I am probably forgetting, for sharing your country, and more importantly your culture with me. Most importantly, thanks to Peter and Vera, my Inlaws, for opening your home to this wacky American guy, and producing a Zia that I could marry. And thanks to my lovely bride for showing me "home."
*****
And so the adventure ends. Tomorrow we load up. As I understand it, I am expected to take the wheel one more time at 2:00 a.m. (!) and drive us to Figgy Airport (or what ever it’s called). There for the expected "security vetting." We leave Budapest at 6:30 a.m., and, through the magic of television, arrive in Portland the same morning around 11:30ish. Not bad.
Thanks for reading my humble rantings. Hopefully they were more entertaining than a slide show. (Hey Dad, Zia hasn’t seen the Navy show yet. I’ll send her by.) Which, of course, doesn’t get you off the hook. You still get to look at pictures. Find us in the fall. Oktoberfest celebrations start soon!
See ya’ in the flesh sometime soon...
Uncle Dave
*****
"Add on by Zia"
Wow it’s time to go back to the other place I call home . I suppose I too should reflect .
I had a wonderful time showing Dave where I am from , introducing him to my Parents , family members and friends. I enjoyed my time with my parents and I am very sad the time is running out as I type these words.
A message to everyone : Spend time with your Parents , if you had a fight make up , if you haven’t spoken in a week call them , don’t let weeks or months go by without talking to them . Time is not forever and you only have so much time with them . Your parents created you and helped shape you , don’t blame them for your flaws . You control your own destiny after you leave the nest. Sorry if I am being sentimental .
The trip was a combination of happy and sad events , I was lucky and got to spend time with Kyra and Jaden . I helped celebrate a very dear old friends 75 th Birthday . I got to see Family and friends that mean a lot to me and I miss very much. I got to show Dave the Place I still call Home , unfortunately I also watched the home I was born in be torn down , that was painful . I have fond memories of that place especially the Horse barn . Times are changing , the town that used to swarm with people and lived day and night now seems abandoned . The youth has left to find employment all over the world and the elderly keep to themselves. I have hopes that in the future changes will happen so people can return .
The time spent here in Keszthely at the Bed and Breakfast was fun too . My parents make all guests feel at home and show them the culture of Hungary . I had the opportunity to observe this since we had guests the entire time we were here. I learned an important lesson , should I ever want to own and run this place ... Breakfast needs to have a time limit !!!!! Our first set of guests chose what ever time they wanted to eat . It interfered with our plans on some days , they also didn’t get that some people go to bed early ... They came home at 11 pm and were very noisy . I think I’ll make up some polite house rules and translate them into several languages. I stayed up late too but did not run up and down the stairs and yell at my kids... OK enough complaining . I also had a few nice conversations with said guests and it kept me practicing my German.
I will go home and learn another language ... which one I am note sure yet . One that doesn’t relate to the ones I already know . Even if I only learn the basics it will help me some day .
Well this is it for me , I am not going to be able to write more , the next 24 hours will be spent packing and spending last minutes saying everything I have not said already. It is very painful to leave , though I miss our Family and Friends in the US too. I wish the world were smaller so I could be close to every one.
I hope everyone enjoyed this blog
Zia
Sunday, August 13, 2006
8/14 Keszthely
Should you find yourself in Hungary and your language skills are not up to snuff, here is a "top ten" list to help you survive a conversation.
1) Smile a lot: it makes people think you are interested and involved.
2) Listen for key words: you can have fun trying to put them into some kind of context that will inevitably be incorrect.
3) Nod knowingly: so that people know you are following the conversation, even though you have absolutely no idea what is being said.
4) If everyone else is laughing, laugh too: you don’t want to be left out. Needless to say you should also gasp, smile, shake your head, cry, etc. with everyone else.
5) Learn a couple of local words: and pepper your conversation with them, it amuses the natives. Should you find yourself in Hungary, here is a starter list; "nem" (pronounced "nam," meaning no), "igen" (EE-gen, "yes"), "koszonom" (kuz-zo-nom, "thank you) and the all important "egeszsegedre" (ag-a-shayg-a-dra, meaning "to your health," then toss back the schnapps! Speaking of which...).
6) Alcohol is your friend: all that lowering your inhibitions and stuff. Hey, three schnapps and you will be able to speak Hungarian too!
7) Have a helpful translator: like Zia, who, after fifteen minutes or so of incomprehensible conversation, brings you right up to speed by saying something like, "driving..." - or - "England..." - and you’re right back in there.
8) Don’t loose focus: someone may check in with you in English to see if you are paying attention. Even though no one has said anything comprehensible for 15 minutes, you will be expected to have followed it all, and have formulated opinions.
9) Butcher a few local words: it is a million laughs for everyone. For example, the two local towns, with completely unpronounceable names, will now forever be called "Buenos Dias" and "Via con Dios" by my inlaws.
10) Keep a sense of humor: else you’ll pull your hair out (and besides, enjoy it, they talk funny here).
Come to think of it, I can remember a few Non-English speakers in my classes that were pretty good at this (guess that’s why that "check for understanding" piece is so important)...
*****
We spent a couple of days with Gabor and Rita, dinner last evening and lunch today. It was nice to have them around. They both speak some English, and were gracious enough to include me in the conversation.
A note to Gabor. I know that you don’t read the blog. That said, I would grab Rita in a heartbeat. She seems to be a great fit for you, smart, attractive, shares your interests. Don’t let her get away.
*****
I took a long walk today through Buenos Dias and Via con Dios to Balatongyorok (I am told about 15 kilometers one way, 30 round trip). On the way back I saw a little used trail going up a hill. Taking the "road less traveled," I found a beautiful Pilgrimage Church dating back to the 1620’s, and some amazing views of Balaton and the surrounding hillsides. One of the prettiest views I have seen on this trip.
*****
We are starting to prepare for the journey home. For right now that means monitoring the security situation so that we know how to pack. Only two bits of information so far. The "no liquids/no electronics" rule means no beer in the carry on, therefore, no beer at all (sorry fellas). The other bit, from the Budapest Airport, is that passengers to the US can expect increased "security vetting." Now the only time I have heard the term "vetting" used is in British spy novels, so of course I am completely prepared for this. We bought a new suitcase to handle the lack of carry on stuff and are trying to keep the pack down to a couple of magazines (pity the folks on British Airways who can’t even take that!). The airport folks and I may have a few "discussions" about the trumpet though. I am not checking it, sorry.
Dave
1) Smile a lot: it makes people think you are interested and involved.
2) Listen for key words: you can have fun trying to put them into some kind of context that will inevitably be incorrect.
3) Nod knowingly: so that people know you are following the conversation, even though you have absolutely no idea what is being said.
4) If everyone else is laughing, laugh too: you don’t want to be left out. Needless to say you should also gasp, smile, shake your head, cry, etc. with everyone else.
5) Learn a couple of local words: and pepper your conversation with them, it amuses the natives. Should you find yourself in Hungary, here is a starter list; "nem" (pronounced "nam," meaning no), "igen" (EE-gen, "yes"), "koszonom" (kuz-zo-nom, "thank you) and the all important "egeszsegedre" (ag-a-shayg-a-dra, meaning "to your health," then toss back the schnapps! Speaking of which...).
6) Alcohol is your friend: all that lowering your inhibitions and stuff. Hey, three schnapps and you will be able to speak Hungarian too!
7) Have a helpful translator: like Zia, who, after fifteen minutes or so of incomprehensible conversation, brings you right up to speed by saying something like, "driving..." - or - "England..." - and you’re right back in there.
8) Don’t loose focus: someone may check in with you in English to see if you are paying attention. Even though no one has said anything comprehensible for 15 minutes, you will be expected to have followed it all, and have formulated opinions.
9) Butcher a few local words: it is a million laughs for everyone. For example, the two local towns, with completely unpronounceable names, will now forever be called "Buenos Dias" and "Via con Dios" by my inlaws.
10) Keep a sense of humor: else you’ll pull your hair out (and besides, enjoy it, they talk funny here).
Come to think of it, I can remember a few Non-English speakers in my classes that were pretty good at this (guess that’s why that "check for understanding" piece is so important)...
*****
We spent a couple of days with Gabor and Rita, dinner last evening and lunch today. It was nice to have them around. They both speak some English, and were gracious enough to include me in the conversation.
A note to Gabor. I know that you don’t read the blog. That said, I would grab Rita in a heartbeat. She seems to be a great fit for you, smart, attractive, shares your interests. Don’t let her get away.
*****
I took a long walk today through Buenos Dias and Via con Dios to Balatongyorok (I am told about 15 kilometers one way, 30 round trip). On the way back I saw a little used trail going up a hill. Taking the "road less traveled," I found a beautiful Pilgrimage Church dating back to the 1620’s, and some amazing views of Balaton and the surrounding hillsides. One of the prettiest views I have seen on this trip.
*****
We are starting to prepare for the journey home. For right now that means monitoring the security situation so that we know how to pack. Only two bits of information so far. The "no liquids/no electronics" rule means no beer in the carry on, therefore, no beer at all (sorry fellas). The other bit, from the Budapest Airport, is that passengers to the US can expect increased "security vetting." Now the only time I have heard the term "vetting" used is in British spy novels, so of course I am completely prepared for this. We bought a new suitcase to handle the lack of carry on stuff and are trying to keep the pack down to a couple of magazines (pity the folks on British Airways who can’t even take that!). The airport folks and I may have a few "discussions" about the trumpet though. I am not checking it, sorry.
Dave
Thursday, August 10, 2006
8/10 Keszthely
So it seems the "Your Travel Place" curse is continuing to affect our journey, and we will not be able to get to Germany this trip, due to the airplane mixup thingy. We are still hoping to get to Budapest, but that remains to be seen. In the mean time, there is still lots to do around here. Needless to say I am a little disappointed, but they say you should always save some adventures for your next trip. Now if I could just figure out who "they" are...
*****
Earlier in this diatribe I mentioned how folk music affects Z on occasion. And, of course, we covered Mr. Kodaly (of Orff-Kodaly fame). Proof that music connects with us in a powerful and personal way.
I mention this as we caught the Mardi Gras Jazz Band at the Wine Fest the other night, a pretty good Dixieland group from Budapest. Their second tune was "Indiana." You are probably familiar with the tune if you ever listen to me warm up, as that is the little jazz ditty that I frequently play. It’s funny, they were about half a chorus in, and I found myself tearing up. Last night we caught the Union Brass Quintet. About half way through "That’s A Plenty," same experience. I guess I never really noticed until that moment how closely connected to that music I am (both Dixie and brass quintets). That, and, it is getting to be time to come home.
Dave
*****
Earlier in this diatribe I mentioned how folk music affects Z on occasion. And, of course, we covered Mr. Kodaly (of Orff-Kodaly fame). Proof that music connects with us in a powerful and personal way.
I mention this as we caught the Mardi Gras Jazz Band at the Wine Fest the other night, a pretty good Dixieland group from Budapest. Their second tune was "Indiana." You are probably familiar with the tune if you ever listen to me warm up, as that is the little jazz ditty that I frequently play. It’s funny, they were about half a chorus in, and I found myself tearing up. Last night we caught the Union Brass Quintet. About half way through "That’s A Plenty," same experience. I guess I never really noticed until that moment how closely connected to that music I am (both Dixie and brass quintets). That, and, it is getting to be time to come home.
Dave
Monday, August 07, 2006
8/4 - 6, Language Issues, Hevis, Keszthely
Life is interesting if your only language is English and you are staying is a house where you can trade understandings with your wife, misunderstandings with your mother-in-law, and (mostly) complete lack of understandings with your father-in-law.
First of all, you are not always saying what you think you are. My In-law’s are both fluent in German and Hungarian, and my Mother-in-law speaks some English. But words in English often have bazar meanings in Hungarian or German. For example, "Bye" in Hungarian means "Trouble," so if you say "Bye Bye" as you leave, what they hear is "Trouble Trouble," which, in my case is probably pretty true. Another example, this is a beach town, and I often get a small stone in my Birks. Like most of my generation in college, I refer to this as a "rock in my ‘stock." In German, a "rock" is a skirt and a "stock" is a stick, so what I am really saying here is that I have a "skirt in my stick." Not quite the same thing. Another example. The word "Kek" (with the little line on the "e") is pronounced "cake" in Hungarian, but means the color blue. Of course, Germans hear it is "poop," so you can’t win regardless.
My wife, who has been going back and forth between German and Hungarian, and then switching to English to translate for me is developing a very cute little accent. If we ever do another production of "Fiddler" this accent is perfect for Yenta.
More language fun. Peter, Zia and I went to a flea market in Tapolca. As Peter has been having back trouble, I was again in the pilots chair. On our way home, Peter took us via the scenic route. I was given the instruction to follow the signs to Balaton - and then a sound slightly likes sneezing and snoring. No prob - I’ll just follow the signs to the town that says "Balaton" on the front of it, and I’ll be OK. And it worked remarkably well, four about 15 miles. At this point I was confronted with a sign that proudly proclaimed "Balatonszeped" and an arrow left and "Balatonreneds" and an arrow right. Needless to say I had to come to a complete stop before we got to a direction that I could understand. Turns out both directions get us there, so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.
Which brings us to my main point, that I made to several of you before we left. Hungarian is not a real language. Hungarian is a language made up by Hungarians to mess up tourists for the amusement of Hungarians. When we leave, they go back to speaking something normal. My proof of this is that periodically, in the nature of kids playing chicken, they slip in a normal word. If you catch them at it, they deny it and make up a new word that sounds a lot like it, but of course is not really what they said.
For example, my wife regularly says "hoo ha" (as in "can I have a hoo ha, two times Tuesday"). OK, look. It was all over the TV before we left, like I am going to miss that. Or, and this was the tip off, my wife slipping "forty-two" into a sentence. Like I am not going to catch that. Oh, she denied it, but it doesn’t change the fact that she said it! In addition to the above, I have heard people say "yak yak," "car part," "Ester Short," and, this is the topper, my mother-in-law slipping "William Shatner" into a conversation. The part I am amazed by is how they can keep this joke going and keep a straight face. Oh well...
*****
We went to the spa at Hevis to take the cure. You have to rent an intertube (or bring your own), and then you pay for a period of time in the lake. The day we went it was raining slightly and the lake was slightly warmer than the air. Not hot-tub-hot, but pleasantly warm. We soaked for two hours. It was really very nice. We got out of the lake about the same time the announcement came over the PA, in three languages, that you should "under no circumstances spend more than an hour in the pool without coming out for a break." Nice of them to tell us. Anyway, we left the water pleasantly soaked and radioactive.
*****
We celebrated our first Wedding Anniversary on the sixth. Vera and Peter took us out to a local Csarda for a fabulous dinner (with a great folk band and show). The restaurant (ettrem) is an old hang out for a Hungarian Robin Hood type band, that, as they do, took from the rich and gave to the poor. There is a memorial where the leaders are buried, where people still leave flowers. From there, back to Keszthely, where we walked down to the wine fest, and then took the champagne cruise on the lake.
So, at the end of year one, thanks to all of you, near and far, for your friendship and support.
Dave
First of all, you are not always saying what you think you are. My In-law’s are both fluent in German and Hungarian, and my Mother-in-law speaks some English. But words in English often have bazar meanings in Hungarian or German. For example, "Bye" in Hungarian means "Trouble," so if you say "Bye Bye" as you leave, what they hear is "Trouble Trouble," which, in my case is probably pretty true. Another example, this is a beach town, and I often get a small stone in my Birks. Like most of my generation in college, I refer to this as a "rock in my ‘stock." In German, a "rock" is a skirt and a "stock" is a stick, so what I am really saying here is that I have a "skirt in my stick." Not quite the same thing. Another example. The word "Kek" (with the little line on the "e") is pronounced "cake" in Hungarian, but means the color blue. Of course, Germans hear it is "poop," so you can’t win regardless.
My wife, who has been going back and forth between German and Hungarian, and then switching to English to translate for me is developing a very cute little accent. If we ever do another production of "Fiddler" this accent is perfect for Yenta.
More language fun. Peter, Zia and I went to a flea market in Tapolca. As Peter has been having back trouble, I was again in the pilots chair. On our way home, Peter took us via the scenic route. I was given the instruction to follow the signs to Balaton - and then a sound slightly likes sneezing and snoring. No prob - I’ll just follow the signs to the town that says "Balaton" on the front of it, and I’ll be OK. And it worked remarkably well, four about 15 miles. At this point I was confronted with a sign that proudly proclaimed "Balatonszeped" and an arrow left and "Balatonreneds" and an arrow right. Needless to say I had to come to a complete stop before we got to a direction that I could understand. Turns out both directions get us there, so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.
Which brings us to my main point, that I made to several of you before we left. Hungarian is not a real language. Hungarian is a language made up by Hungarians to mess up tourists for the amusement of Hungarians. When we leave, they go back to speaking something normal. My proof of this is that periodically, in the nature of kids playing chicken, they slip in a normal word. If you catch them at it, they deny it and make up a new word that sounds a lot like it, but of course is not really what they said.
For example, my wife regularly says "hoo ha" (as in "can I have a hoo ha, two times Tuesday"). OK, look. It was all over the TV before we left, like I am going to miss that. Or, and this was the tip off, my wife slipping "forty-two" into a sentence. Like I am not going to catch that. Oh, she denied it, but it doesn’t change the fact that she said it! In addition to the above, I have heard people say "yak yak," "car part," "Ester Short," and, this is the topper, my mother-in-law slipping "William Shatner" into a conversation. The part I am amazed by is how they can keep this joke going and keep a straight face. Oh well...
*****
We went to the spa at Hevis to take the cure. You have to rent an intertube (or bring your own), and then you pay for a period of time in the lake. The day we went it was raining slightly and the lake was slightly warmer than the air. Not hot-tub-hot, but pleasantly warm. We soaked for two hours. It was really very nice. We got out of the lake about the same time the announcement came over the PA, in three languages, that you should "under no circumstances spend more than an hour in the pool without coming out for a break." Nice of them to tell us. Anyway, we left the water pleasantly soaked and radioactive.
*****
We celebrated our first Wedding Anniversary on the sixth. Vera and Peter took us out to a local Csarda for a fabulous dinner (with a great folk band and show). The restaurant (ettrem) is an old hang out for a Hungarian Robin Hood type band, that, as they do, took from the rich and gave to the poor. There is a memorial where the leaders are buried, where people still leave flowers. From there, back to Keszthely, where we walked down to the wine fest, and then took the champagne cruise on the lake.
So, at the end of year one, thanks to all of you, near and far, for your friendship and support.
Dave
Friday, August 04, 2006
8/3 Keszthely
To all of our friends in Portland and the ‘Couv. We hope that the recent earthquake didn’t damage anything valuable and that you (and your stuff) are all OK.
*****
It rained.
It stopped raining long enough for Zia and I to go down to Kossuth Utca and take a walk along with the 3,254,128 other tourist, so we didn’t stay long.
We went down to the Bor Utca (Wine Street) to listen to the latin jazz band last night. The rain started as we walked out the door and continued to increase in intensity to the point that it felt like someone had turned a faucet on by the bands second tune. So all I will say about them is they sounded like the best pop group we have heard here. Good players, good charts, but more info on them will have to wait for other places online (that said, the arrangement of the other bands arrangement of arrangements of funk tunes from the late ‘70’s is kinda dicey fellas).
So down to tourist row on the Boardwalk for beer, pommes (French Fries come with cute little plastic forks), and cover. It was raining so hard at this point that my synthetic fiber anorak was dripping water. We got home and wrung ourselves out. I went to bed, while Zia stayed up to hear the adventures of the Germans, who went out to the Puszta, about which she will have to fill you in, 'cuz she ain't told me yet.
Dave
*****
It rained.
It stopped raining long enough for Zia and I to go down to Kossuth Utca and take a walk along with the 3,254,128 other tourist, so we didn’t stay long.
We went down to the Bor Utca (Wine Street) to listen to the latin jazz band last night. The rain started as we walked out the door and continued to increase in intensity to the point that it felt like someone had turned a faucet on by the bands second tune. So all I will say about them is they sounded like the best pop group we have heard here. Good players, good charts, but more info on them will have to wait for other places online (that said, the arrangement of the other bands arrangement of arrangements of funk tunes from the late ‘70’s is kinda dicey fellas).
So down to tourist row on the Boardwalk for beer, pommes (French Fries come with cute little plastic forks), and cover. It was raining so hard at this point that my synthetic fiber anorak was dripping water. We got home and wrung ourselves out. I went to bed, while Zia stayed up to hear the adventures of the Germans, who went out to the Puszta, about which she will have to fill you in, 'cuz she ain't told me yet.
Dave
Thursday, August 03, 2006
8/1 & 2, Keszthely
We had a genuine Central Oregon-type thunderstorm this afternoon - complete with thunder, lightning, torrential down pours - but alas, no hail and no drop in temperature. Gradually things began to cool off as the day wore on, but it was a good afternoon to be inside...
Which is not really a great thing, as we are barbecuing again this evening. Kis-Kazi, Zsuzsa, Klaudia, Gabie and Csabi are down using Kazi-Basci’s condo, and are coming by for a visit.
*****
A break in the weather, and the grill is fired up. Peter is making chicken, steak, cevaps (many of you will remember these from the wedding) and potatoes, Vera has made a salad bowl featuring a green salad, a cucumber salad and a blanched cabbage salad. My contribution is tofu, lightly browned, and, as it turns out, heavily spiced.
We may have told some of you the story my first use of hot paprika. If you haven’t heard it yet, the short version: Paprika in Hungary comes in a variety of levels of "heat." Zia kindly provided me with some of the "extra fiery" variety after her last visit. She just neglected to tell me what it was. Now most of us don’t think of paprika as a flavor as much as a coloring agent. So, being nice, I threw a bunch of this stuff on a bunch of grilled vegetables I was preparing. A bunch. This stuff is pretty great, in that it lets you get a mouth full down and enjoy it before the heat starts, and then "whoa, baby." We ate the vegetables, but I think we went through a roll of paper towels wiping sweat from our brows. Mostly around here it is used as a condiment, right next to the salt shaker.
So, flash to Dave, browning the tofu on the stove. Things are browning nicely, a little salt, just like the cooking shows, pick up the paprika shaker - you know that prank you used to play on your friends in high school - OK, well not you, but people you know - where you loosen the cap on the shaker and it all comes out. OK, accidents happen. Anyway, let’s just say the final product was very hot.
Dinner was great. Peter, Kis-Kazi, the boys and I enjoyed the rest of the evening sitting around chewing the fat (vegetarian based, I assure you), while the ladies watched the Mega-Magdi DVD.
*****
Wednesday, the wine festival in Keszthely began this evening. As you all know, I am more of a beer guy, but, you know, when in Rome.
The festival begins with a parade. We moseyed down to the Centrum to catch the beginning of the parade, and got there just in time to bump elbows with the band getting off the bus. They quickly formed up and started entertaining the crowd with European marches. Next to arrive were two horse-drawn carriages, one for the Hungarian folk band, and one just because. Zia is in awe of one of these horses. It is a small horse, but very muscular, and very spirited. Next is a choir from Poland and their accordion accompaniment. Yes, they march and perform in the parade (all you choir teachers take note). Last to arrive are the representatives of all of the wineries at the festival. They are dressed up in the regalia of their region (think cap and gown, like graduation).
They quickly formed up and, with the band playing Stars and Stripes (enough to make you homesick), started down the street - only to stop about the time the end had reached us. So we walked to the front of the parade and watched it again. And again they stopped. We still are not really sure why. At this point, having seen the parade twice, we went ahead to the festival. We figured they would catch up eventually.
The wine festival is a lot like a small beer festival. Booths from all over the country, not just this region, will serve you a taste, or a full glass of wine. There are food booths all over selling goulash, stir-fried vegetable and meat dishes, shish kabobs, pommes frittes, and a Transylvanian Bread thing that is like a cinnamon roll, but less sticky (and one of Zia's favorite food groups). We met Peter and Vera, and had dinner - and some wine, two whites, local specialties, one sweet and one dry.
We then wandered down to the stage, where the choir was just finishing up their set. They were doing a call and response thing with the audience where they sang the call in four parts, and the audience sang the response - IN FOUR PARTS! It was pretty cool. They didn’t even teach it, just spontaneous four parts from the crowd.
They were followed by a Hungarian Dance group. A live band of musicians provided the tunes. Different than the gypsy group we saw earlier, this was the true Hungarian folk ensemble. The "lead guitarist" of this type of ensemble is the violinist. Very good Hungarian violinist are very popular, and can make bundles of money. There is a contest here every so often to crown the king of all violinists, who then is shown regularly on TV, etc. The "rhythm guitarist" is the viola player. When I say viola, I am not talking about the one you see in the orchestra. The viola used in this type of music only has three strings and a slightly flatter bridge, so that the player can play triple stops all the time. There is a wash of sound that comes from this that is an awful lot like an electric guitar, and a good viola player can add huge amounts of energy to a performance, especially when they lock up with the bass player. The bass is a traditional orchestral bass, and is almost always played bowed, not pizzicato. In slower tunes, the player will use a lot of portamendo, which gives the tunes a kind of "sea-sick" feeling that is kind of slick. The last member of the band is the cymbalom player, kind of the equivalent of the piano player in our mythical rock band. Almost never a solo voice, and always a surprising color when it is, the cymbalom player mostly improvises accompaniment figures to counterpoint the melody. Good players add another rhythmic element to complement the melody.
The dance group was very good. A variety of ages performed a variety of traditional dances on a stage that was really too small for them. (And, low and behold, there in the adult group is our Vaida from the other night.) Standing for an hour and a half was hard on the back, but the show was really good.
On the way out we passed one of those Peruvian folk groups that you see at malls and stuff all over the States. Same little set up, same generator, except these guys are obviously faking it - and they are wearing Native American Indian outfits, with full headdress and everything. Kind of wacky...
Dave
Which is not really a great thing, as we are barbecuing again this evening. Kis-Kazi, Zsuzsa, Klaudia, Gabie and Csabi are down using Kazi-Basci’s condo, and are coming by for a visit.
*****
A break in the weather, and the grill is fired up. Peter is making chicken, steak, cevaps (many of you will remember these from the wedding) and potatoes, Vera has made a salad bowl featuring a green salad, a cucumber salad and a blanched cabbage salad. My contribution is tofu, lightly browned, and, as it turns out, heavily spiced.
We may have told some of you the story my first use of hot paprika. If you haven’t heard it yet, the short version: Paprika in Hungary comes in a variety of levels of "heat." Zia kindly provided me with some of the "extra fiery" variety after her last visit. She just neglected to tell me what it was. Now most of us don’t think of paprika as a flavor as much as a coloring agent. So, being nice, I threw a bunch of this stuff on a bunch of grilled vegetables I was preparing. A bunch. This stuff is pretty great, in that it lets you get a mouth full down and enjoy it before the heat starts, and then "whoa, baby." We ate the vegetables, but I think we went through a roll of paper towels wiping sweat from our brows. Mostly around here it is used as a condiment, right next to the salt shaker.
So, flash to Dave, browning the tofu on the stove. Things are browning nicely, a little salt, just like the cooking shows, pick up the paprika shaker - you know that prank you used to play on your friends in high school - OK, well not you, but people you know - where you loosen the cap on the shaker and it all comes out. OK, accidents happen. Anyway, let’s just say the final product was very hot.
Dinner was great. Peter, Kis-Kazi, the boys and I enjoyed the rest of the evening sitting around chewing the fat (vegetarian based, I assure you), while the ladies watched the Mega-Magdi DVD.
*****
Wednesday, the wine festival in Keszthely began this evening. As you all know, I am more of a beer guy, but, you know, when in Rome.
The festival begins with a parade. We moseyed down to the Centrum to catch the beginning of the parade, and got there just in time to bump elbows with the band getting off the bus. They quickly formed up and started entertaining the crowd with European marches. Next to arrive were two horse-drawn carriages, one for the Hungarian folk band, and one just because. Zia is in awe of one of these horses. It is a small horse, but very muscular, and very spirited. Next is a choir from Poland and their accordion accompaniment. Yes, they march and perform in the parade (all you choir teachers take note). Last to arrive are the representatives of all of the wineries at the festival. They are dressed up in the regalia of their region (think cap and gown, like graduation).
They quickly formed up and, with the band playing Stars and Stripes (enough to make you homesick), started down the street - only to stop about the time the end had reached us. So we walked to the front of the parade and watched it again. And again they stopped. We still are not really sure why. At this point, having seen the parade twice, we went ahead to the festival. We figured they would catch up eventually.
The wine festival is a lot like a small beer festival. Booths from all over the country, not just this region, will serve you a taste, or a full glass of wine. There are food booths all over selling goulash, stir-fried vegetable and meat dishes, shish kabobs, pommes frittes, and a Transylvanian Bread thing that is like a cinnamon roll, but less sticky (and one of Zia's favorite food groups). We met Peter and Vera, and had dinner - and some wine, two whites, local specialties, one sweet and one dry.
We then wandered down to the stage, where the choir was just finishing up their set. They were doing a call and response thing with the audience where they sang the call in four parts, and the audience sang the response - IN FOUR PARTS! It was pretty cool. They didn’t even teach it, just spontaneous four parts from the crowd.
They were followed by a Hungarian Dance group. A live band of musicians provided the tunes. Different than the gypsy group we saw earlier, this was the true Hungarian folk ensemble. The "lead guitarist" of this type of ensemble is the violinist. Very good Hungarian violinist are very popular, and can make bundles of money. There is a contest here every so often to crown the king of all violinists, who then is shown regularly on TV, etc. The "rhythm guitarist" is the viola player. When I say viola, I am not talking about the one you see in the orchestra. The viola used in this type of music only has three strings and a slightly flatter bridge, so that the player can play triple stops all the time. There is a wash of sound that comes from this that is an awful lot like an electric guitar, and a good viola player can add huge amounts of energy to a performance, especially when they lock up with the bass player. The bass is a traditional orchestral bass, and is almost always played bowed, not pizzicato. In slower tunes, the player will use a lot of portamendo, which gives the tunes a kind of "sea-sick" feeling that is kind of slick. The last member of the band is the cymbalom player, kind of the equivalent of the piano player in our mythical rock band. Almost never a solo voice, and always a surprising color when it is, the cymbalom player mostly improvises accompaniment figures to counterpoint the melody. Good players add another rhythmic element to complement the melody.
The dance group was very good. A variety of ages performed a variety of traditional dances on a stage that was really too small for them. (And, low and behold, there in the adult group is our Vaida from the other night.) Standing for an hour and a half was hard on the back, but the show was really good.
On the way out we passed one of those Peruvian folk groups that you see at malls and stuff all over the States. Same little set up, same generator, except these guys are obviously faking it - and they are wearing Native American Indian outfits, with full headdress and everything. Kind of wacky...
Dave
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
7/31 Hevis
For all of you gardeners out there. Vera just passed on through Zia the story of a friend of hers who uses birth control pills as plant food for vegetable plants with great results. Now if you can just get your doctor to write your plants a prescription...
*****
Today we took a bus trip to the spa town of Hevis (the "e" has a long, horizontal line over it, HAY - vees). We will not visit the spa today - too hot! No, today we sight see.
Hevis, according to Peter, renovated all of the spa buildings last winter. When the town council inspected the buildings following construction they found shoddy workmanship and sub-standard materials (hmm, on a government project? Can you do that?). They ordered the whole thing torn down and rebuild before payment.
The spa at Hevis, according to our guide book, is slightly radioactive (!!!). I am, however, at peace with visiting the baths later in the week. In the first place, people have been coming here for over 200 years to "take the cure." So there must be something to it. In the second place, I don’t plan on having any more children.
Our visit to Hevis was very rewarding. As previously mentioned, this is a spa town (read "tourist"). So our sight seeing expedition was mostly of shops. We were wandering down a side street, when Zia excitedly grabbed my hand and exclaiming, "we have to go in here," drug me into a shop. Great, more footwear, I was thinking. Instead I found a bookstore. With Hungarian books. In Hungarian. Zia wandered off to look, and amused myself by doing what I have been doing this whole trip when walking into a Hungarian bookstore with Hungarian books in Hungarian. I looked at pre-1910 maps of Hungary, always a good bet. Then I stared at CD’s for a while. Nice classical selection, at least I think it is. I can read the composer names, even though they are backward. But orchestras? Soloists? Your guess is as good as mine. And then! We discovered the music shelf. And on it there is a fabulous and very scholarly book of ethnomusicology on the folk music of this region, with examples...in Hungarian. And the examples, very well organized, are only excerpts. And so, once again we slink towards the door in abject failure. Zia and the clerk exchanged a few words on the way out. The clerk reaches into a stack of newly arrived books that have not been shelved, and thrusts into my hand three books of Hungarian Folk Music. The Holy Grail! The end of the quest! I was giddy, I laughed, I cried, I think I even danced a cszardas (you can’t do a jig in Hungary). Even as I write this, Peter and Vera are sorting through the tunes, helping me to find the ones they hear played a lot.
*****
Hevis also has a pretty great German Folk Clothing store. The work is all done locally and is pretty inexpensive. They get a lot of German tourists here. Zia snagged me a new shirt for this year.
Our trip home was on the milk run bus, so we got to see the "garden district" of Keszthely. Some very beautiful houses, and the big bus stops all have some fabulous statuary. Even with the heat, things are very green and pretty.
Dave
*****
Today we took a bus trip to the spa town of Hevis (the "e" has a long, horizontal line over it, HAY - vees). We will not visit the spa today - too hot! No, today we sight see.
Hevis, according to Peter, renovated all of the spa buildings last winter. When the town council inspected the buildings following construction they found shoddy workmanship and sub-standard materials (hmm, on a government project? Can you do that?). They ordered the whole thing torn down and rebuild before payment.
The spa at Hevis, according to our guide book, is slightly radioactive (!!!). I am, however, at peace with visiting the baths later in the week. In the first place, people have been coming here for over 200 years to "take the cure." So there must be something to it. In the second place, I don’t plan on having any more children.
Our visit to Hevis was very rewarding. As previously mentioned, this is a spa town (read "tourist"). So our sight seeing expedition was mostly of shops. We were wandering down a side street, when Zia excitedly grabbed my hand and exclaiming, "we have to go in here," drug me into a shop. Great, more footwear, I was thinking. Instead I found a bookstore. With Hungarian books. In Hungarian. Zia wandered off to look, and amused myself by doing what I have been doing this whole trip when walking into a Hungarian bookstore with Hungarian books in Hungarian. I looked at pre-1910 maps of Hungary, always a good bet. Then I stared at CD’s for a while. Nice classical selection, at least I think it is. I can read the composer names, even though they are backward. But orchestras? Soloists? Your guess is as good as mine. And then! We discovered the music shelf. And on it there is a fabulous and very scholarly book of ethnomusicology on the folk music of this region, with examples...in Hungarian. And the examples, very well organized, are only excerpts. And so, once again we slink towards the door in abject failure. Zia and the clerk exchanged a few words on the way out. The clerk reaches into a stack of newly arrived books that have not been shelved, and thrusts into my hand three books of Hungarian Folk Music. The Holy Grail! The end of the quest! I was giddy, I laughed, I cried, I think I even danced a cszardas (you can’t do a jig in Hungary). Even as I write this, Peter and Vera are sorting through the tunes, helping me to find the ones they hear played a lot.
*****
Hevis also has a pretty great German Folk Clothing store. The work is all done locally and is pretty inexpensive. They get a lot of German tourists here. Zia snagged me a new shirt for this year.
Our trip home was on the milk run bus, so we got to see the "garden district" of Keszthely. Some very beautiful houses, and the big bus stops all have some fabulous statuary. Even with the heat, things are very green and pretty.
Dave
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