Adventures of Dave and Zia

7/14/2011 - Kishegyes

2011-09-01T15:19:00.001-07:00

We visited Pityu-Basci this afternoon. Avid readers of our blog will remember his 75^th birthday from the beginning of the blog (worth a revisit if you haven't read it, this would be the dread "Quince Extract Palinka Affair"). His 80^th birthday was scheduled for Sunday, but they were forced to cancel. He is going to the hospital tomorrow for an indefinite stay. He looks awful, but, as always, is a generous host. None the less, I can't shake the feeling as we leave that we probably won't be visiting with him next year.

*****

Evening in Kishegyes, and we are sitting at Laci-Basci and Erzsi-Neni's house, around a table made from the lid of a baby grand piano, sampling the fruits of our labor from yesterday. The palinka has sat in an open 26-ish gallon bucket overnight to breathe. The sugar and alcohol are then adjusted using a hydrometer and distilled water. Then it is ready for bottles. The final yield was around 70 liters.

As we were sitting there, sampling the product, there was this exchange between Vera and Peter that I found humorous:

Vera: "Doesn't it say 'for external use only.'"

Peter: "No, it stings when I use it that way."

We also met Sandor this evening. He is the third partner in the palinka empire. He and Z went to elementary school together. He is a very funny guy – at one point dialing up an old classmate that he and Z had in common and handing the phone to her. They only went to school together through kindergarten.

This is one of those evenings where I have had enough palinka that I actually think I speak Hungarian. As a result, further notes in my journal a more than a little illegible – so we'll leave it here for today.

7/13/2011 Kishegyes

2011-09-01T13:08:00.001-07:00

We received sad news this morning. The mother of the cleaning lady we met at the police station died of diabetic related causes yesterday. We are keeping our new friend and her family in our thoughts and prayers.

It appears that I will be earning my Moonshining Merit Badge today. Someone has to run the still while Laci is at the funeral. Peter, Z and I have been elected.

I'm sure you're wondering (and if you're not, why not?) how it's all done. Like this – after the fruit has been cut, peeled and pitted, it is put in a big blue, food-grade barrel. It is left uncovered for several days to cook down through natural fermentation. The speed of the fermentation is controlled through the use of sugar. Like beer, it will foam up while this is going on. You will need to leave some space in your barrel for this. The foam is scraped off periodically.

You will be left with a liquid sludge of fermented fruit. After one last "pick through" by hand to clean up the last of the peels and pits, into the still it goes. The still is about 240 liters. It is a large copper tank, with an open fire made of hard wood and corn stalks underneath. There is a crank on the side that rotates paddles inside that stir the sludge. The steam is collected through a pipe and sent to the nearby condenser, a large metal tank with a garden hose rotating inside connected to a small outlet pipe. There you will find a small, match-stick sized stream of "product." The goal is to keep the heat under this still at just the right temperature to keep this flow constant. The final reading on the hydrometer should be in the vicinity of 30.

Peter is reducing 450 pounds of fruit. He'll end up with about 20 liters of palinka. Of course, this is just the apricot stuff.

Apples and pears are in the future. Those need to be coarsely ground before adding to the barrel. Cherries have already run. They only need be pitted before they are ready. The guys are not doing any berry palinka this year, it takes too much fruit. Next up for them will be plums.

My part of the process is to turn the crank on the still every so often, read the numbers on the thermometer (scarily, I seem to have the best eye sight of the crew at the moment), and to suck back a few Jelen Pivos. Yes, on a day like this, I'm prepared to even give Jelen a second chance. Good news! It's (barely) better out of the bottle. Which isn't saying much.

We visited with Emese this evening before going to dinner at Imre and Kati's next door. She told us about the involvement of eight of her school kids in the Hungarian National History Contest. They have 8 months to prepare for the contest. They are given a new task every month based around a central theme. This year, that was the military hero Rákoczy. During the day of competition they will present authentic period costumes, research papers and poster boards, a 5 minute movie, a period dance, compete in a whipping competition, present a gift to the judges – with appropriate speech, and create an authentic Rákoczy Salad. Emese had the only two teams from outside of Hungary.

As an aside – we frequently compare school systems while we are here. Talking shop, if you will. We were explaining that the schools in The 'Couve will shut down for the lightest dusting of snow. Emese informed us the only time they shut schools down around here is when they are bombed by NATO. Yeah – that's a topper.

Dinner is with the wine crew this evening. Kati has outdone herself finding swell vittles for the veg. An appetizer of yoghurt, mayo, gelatin, thinly sliced carrot and cucumber formed into little bars, is followed by an entree of fried cauliflower heads and sun-dried peppers, stuffed with sharp cheese, and then breaded and fried. As has been mentioned before, they fry foods very lightly here, so it is refreshing but not too oily. Good stuff.

7/11/2011 Kishegeyes

2011-07-31T05:07:00.000-07:00

Monday - time to get our ID cards so they know where to pick up when they come after the foreigners while we are in Serbia. Unlike previous years, the cards are now in English (Serbia is working hard to get into the EU), and we were able to get them in advance. Of course, like previous years, it's not as simple as that.

We picked up our friend Emese, who speaks Serbo-Croation, and headed to the police station - let the fun begin!

The lobby of the police station is already full of people. It is also full of police officers in various uniforms actively involved with - well, actually not much. Unless you count making sure the counters and desks don't suddenly fly up in the air.

We are second in line at the window, watching Officer Incompetent deal with a lady at the window. He "hunt and pecked" at his computer keyboard for a couple of strokes, taking, and I am not kidding here, a full three minutes, and then wandered off to find someone who had mastered the alphabet. This gave us 20 minutes to catch up with Emese, write in the journal, and admire the, as many as 8, police offiers sitting in the office working on something that involved holding the furniture down.

A cleaning lady (and friend of Emese's) came by and regaled us with tales of working in the place. Evidently, she has finally trained the police officers that putting out their cigarettes in their coffee cups is a bad idea. After several years, she has also convinced them that cleaning products might be a little more effective than just plain water. She has to be careful about cleaning the second floor window. It is only held in lace with a wooden wedge - if she pushes too hard on it, from either side, it will fall out. Best I can tell, she is the only person working in the whole place. When last seen, she was berating the door stops in the police office about putting chewing gum in the track for the window. They helpfully presented her with a ruler to scrape it out.

While all of this was going on, Vera pulled me over to show me a shredded desk chair in the office we were waiting for, and said I should address it in the blog. I assume it was shredded in frustraition from these people at the counter wanting things and interrupting the importnat work of holding the furniture down.

Finally, Officer NahΘτ* (my guess - Fackelmann), showed up and demonstrated some competence. Taking our cards and passports, he was gone for about 10 minutes, and we were checked in.

From there we went to city hall to get birth certificates to start Z's passport adventure for this year, only to find that they had risked having their furniture float away for their midmorning snack break. We gave up and went to Emese's to sit on the deck and enjoy coffee and a "car" conversation.

*****

Pista and Rozsa, Peter's cousin and wife, came by to visit this afternoon. They are active farmers in town. Pista shared with us that if it doesn't start raining in the next few days, the corn won't come this year. They made several thousand Euros on this crop last year, and are a little worried. The river levels in town are too low to allow for irrigation, so the crop may be a write-off. There are no farm subsidies here, so this will be a financial loss for them. So remember kids, there is no such thing as global warming.

*****

Dinner this evening is at Laci-Bacsi and Erzsi-Neni's house (known to long time readers of the blog as "Beethoven-Bacsi" and "Mozart-Neni." Laci had a large St. Bernard dogs when Z's kids were young and the "Beethoven" dog movies were out). In attendance are Imre and Kati, Lajos and Bori, Lacika and Dora and their son, Benedek. Lacika is the manager for this really hot Serbian brass band, the Boban Markovic Orkestra, that I have been infatuated with lately. Laci, Erzsi, Imre, Kati, Lajos and Bori are the harvest crew for the wine grapes in the vineyard that Peter is managing in Hungary, and they have all become good friends.

Lajos and Bori are a little late this evening. The trees on their farm had grown a little too close to the power lines, and had caught on fire. Had they not been home to put the fire out, the entire place likely would have burnt to the ground.

*****

The evening proceeded, as they often do here, with me enjoying the melodious sounds of Hungarian flowing around me, without a clue to what it actually all means. Fortunately, Z will help me keep up with the flow of things by occasionally throwing me a "car." A "car" is a quick translation, so that I have some clue as to what is happening in the conversation, and can make some sense of it. The first year we came over here, they were concise little tidbits of the conversation. I was surprisingly, able to follow a lot of what was going on at that point. By the second trip, the tidbits had gotten shorter - usually consisting of one word. We talked about cars a lot that year.

After an hour, then, this is the "car" Z just threw at me - "it doesn't translate, it's like a pun." And I'm right back in there...

* His real name is spelled "Nah backward 'N' and a weird cross between a 'T' and an 'h.'" I used to be able to cut and paste from Word into Blogger. I can't do that any more. Thanks, Blogger.

7/10/2011 Topolya

2011-07-31T03:39:00.000-07:00

It is hot today. The kind of hot that brings the color of roasted ham (or carrots, if your a veg) to your skin, cooks every drop of moisture from your body, and then slaps you about the head and shoulders, making every step an effort - you know the type? So, of course, I started the day with an hour walk. The smoke is already (still?) coming from the neighbors still. He is running a commercial operation from his garage. To pay us back for "smoking us out" last night, he swung by with a bottle of cherry, fresh off the still, for Z and I. Around town, I am frequently greeted with a cheerful "Jö naput." It was a nice way to start the day.

I was hurried through the shower (mostly by the fact that the hot water tank was busted, not that we knew this at the time), and then we went to the semi-annual "Big Market" in Topolya. As has been mentioned before, this market turns the entire south end of town into a flea market/mall. You can buy anything here; toilet paper, furniture, tractor gears, gasoline, etc. Peter outfitted himself with a new "cowboy" style hat and belt, Vera some candy and a Kürtös Kalács, and Z added a new whip to the collection she has been working on since she was a kid. A quick stop at the GoMex store for water, and then out to Lajos and Bori's for roast lamb with the family. Family, in this case, are, in addition to Lajos and Bori, their business tycoon sons Lali, with wife Adrianna, daughter Léna, and son Lajos IV, and Feri, with wife Ani, as well as Marko and Mario. Mario is a former tennis pro, who has coached some of the name Serbia players (I even recognized some of the names - a shame alchohol was involved in the discussion. I couldn't remember now to save my life. Let this be a lesson to you, kids.), before becomming a vintner for some Serbia rock god neither you or I have ever heard of. Marko is an OB-GYN who practices three days in Hungary, drives to the Croatian coast and practices there for a day. Then he kicks it a day and drinks wine with the fishermen before returning to Hungary.

*****

The joy of seeing the world as a local instead of a tourist, is that you get to see things as they are, rather than all prettied up for the outsiders. For example, Lajos is the Game Warden for this part of Serbia. As such, he gets invited to go on safari all over the world. He invited us into his study to check out his trophy collection. The Keckes side of the family was suitably impressed - I was a little grossed out. And let's not even talk about the lamb that's staring at me with the roasted white eye ball on the spit.

*****

A little before two, everyone is here, and the party is in full swing. I've been handed a swell Düsseldorfer Alt, all tan and malty, and then promptly ignored. Such is the life of an American tourist. Smile and enjoy the show.

As, at this point, it has been more than an hour since someone has put more than a sentence together in English, let's talk about the beer:

Unknown Brewery, Alt, probably around 5%. This is a beautiful tanish-brown beer, with a thick, creamy white head and a strong aroma of sweet malt, with just a hint of hops peeking through in the background. This is also true as you tase it. On the front of the palate you get the sweet of the malt and the bitter of the hopes in almost equal balance, with the malt just winning out. As thebeer slides to the back of your throat, the hops show up in the finish in a hige wallop. A nice little alt - wish I knew what it was.

Lunch is served. Like usual in these cases, the lamb did not cooperate by finishing in time. The side dishes are enjoyed by all along with a little left over lamb brought by a guest to a party last night, while the assmbled wait for the one on the spit to finish. This finally occured about a half-hour later, to the applause of the assmbled guests. In case you were wondering, the tradition is that the head of the lamb goes to the chef. No one else may have it. Lajos, here's looking at you!

*****

Later in the afternoon we shifted out to the deck and to drinking wime. The wine in question, a 2007 Chateau de Lussac, is significantly more complex than the house wines we have been drinking this week. I'm told the stuff sells for about 100 Euroes a bottle (about $150 USD). It's really, really swell stuff, and probably completely wasted on my beer palate. Like the best beers, there are a huge number of flavors here that complement each other to make a better whole. Certainly nothing to whine (or wine, for that matter) about.

*****

We ended today's festivities witha guys-only trip out to visit Loli and Feri's new business venture. They have bought a grain elevator at the edge of town. After a hot, sticky climb, I was rewarded with a hazy view of the surrounding area. Why, on a clear day, I am told, you can see all the way to - well, you know...

7/9/2011 Kishegyes

2011-07-31T03:13:00.000-07:00

It has been over 100° for the last few days here - hell on the walks and practice, but at least it helps keep the mosquitoes down. It is palinka making season in Kishegyes. We have seen the fruit cooking down in several places and are on the clock today making sure to add water to Peter's barrels to tighten the seams. Apricots are in season right now, followed by plum, pear, quince and the like. Cherries are already finished.

In another "Greek Wedding" moment, Z informed me today that we will be dining with sevreal folks over the next couple of days. They are all preparing lamb.

Imre and Kati came by this evening to visit. Discussion centered around the adventures of Kati's class reunion, mole removal (The friend in Sarmalek seems to have the best solution. He has a Guiney Hen that likes to hunt and eat them.), and "what the hell do vegetarians eat, anyway?" We'll be lunching with them later in the week.

Our palinka this evening is "mixed fruit." The fruit in question came from the garden right outside the door. We dodged a bullet. Vera brought out more of the "Swiss Herb," but decided it wasn't the right choice this evening. Whew, that was close.

*****

Hungarian Customs No. 2: Operating a Seltzer Bottle.

Most palinka drinkers wisely follow the potent potable with a chaser of bubbly water from a seltzer bottle. Should you be called upon to pour, here is what you do. Hold the glass to be filled in your weak hand under the spout, and the handle of the bottle in your strong hand. GENTLY squeeze the handle on the bottle. Don't be embarrassed if you end up taking a shower. You will. Even seasoned pros do it every so often.

7/8/2011 Keszthely - Kishegyes

2011-07-31T02:54:00.000-07:00

Our annual trip to Serbia to visit Z's hometown and get her Serbian papers begins today in unbearably hot weather. I took my turn at driving the back roads of Hungary, always an adventure. Driving here is not for the timid. You will be passing places you never would have dreamed of at home. We lived to tell the tale (!), so I must have down OK.

We stopped by Lajos and Bori's house in Topolya for lunch. Lajos, you will recall, makes palinka commercially. Lunch, then, began with two extra-large sized apricot palinkas, fresh off the still - followed by potato soup, sun-dried red peppers with garlic, fried zuchinni and potatoes for me, accompanied by grey-long-horn cow steak for the carnivores. The Grey-Long-Horn Cow, by the way, is a Hungarian region specific animal. Lajos has the only license in the area to grow them. Desert was palascinta with cinnamon and sugar or home-made marmalade. All this was washed down with Savignon Blanc and Chardonnay house wines. Their sons have sold the grocery chain and moved into the wine biz, among other things.

From there, once again, home to pour ourselves into bed.

*****

Hungarian Customs No. 1: The Ritual Greeting

The Hungarian Ritual Greeting starts with a lot of excited cries of pleasure about renewing an acquaintance, friendship, family association - or being in the same bowling league for all I know - that you haven't run into for a while. You then embrace, and kiss them warmly on each cheek. Except, sometimes you only kiss one cheek. And then, if you really care for someone, sometimes you kiss them three times. It is all rather confusing.

Should you be called upon to perform this ritual, be forewarned that you start on your right, their left. You greet both the opposite and the same sex this way - so get over it, guys.

7/2 & 6/2011 Kesthely and environs

2011-07-31T02:28:00.000-07:00

7/2

We had breakfast and then made a trip out to the "Russian" market out on the edge of town. This hangover from the "Black Market" days is a kind of flea market for clothing, genuine authentic Rolex's, and the like. Today it was mostly cooking gadgets and clothing - no real finds.

From there we went out to Sarmalek to get some wine and gather all the fruit that Z and Kyra could eat and shove into their pockets. And then, from there, home for lunch and a beer.

Lest you think everything we are drinking over here is swell, I give you:

Gösser Natur Zitrone (mit natüruchem Zitronenshaft), contract brewed by Sopron Brewing Company, in Sopron, Hungary (naturally). About 2% by volume, it looks kind of like urine with a thin head that lasts less than a minute before disappearing completely in disgust. It has the strong aroma of synthetic lemon (or possibly urine). There is no malt flavor in the bill, but rather the taste of bitter lemon soda. By the time it has reached the back of the palate, there is nothing left at all. All flash - no follow through. Ick. To be avoided at all costs. Mine ended up in the sink - life is too short to drink bad beer.

6/30 & 7/1/2011 Niedernhall - Kesthely

2011-07-31T01:46:00.000-07:00

An 11 hour car ride is our fate today - from Niedernhall to Kesthely, Z's folks home base. As it is raining and there is lots of construction going on, even my stint behind the wheel on the Autobahn wasn't much fun. I only made 120 MPH twice, dang it!

We rolled in around 9:00, or 21:00 as the locals tell time. I had five palinkas, "my palinka," Vera's palinka (Peter had pulled out the wrong bottle, and she needed her glass empty for the correct one), the correct palinka - twice, and then one more to keep Peter company while he snuck one in while Vera was in the bathroom. All of this washed down, of course, by the beer chaser that Vera put in my hand shortly after "the correct" palinka, volume one. As the calorie count was low today, shortly thereafter I poured myself into bed. A draining experience indeed.

*****

7/1

In "there goes the neighborhood" news - according to the local newspaper, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have bought a house in nearby Tihany. Angelina just finished a film project there and liked the town.

*****

Today was spent getting ready for the arrival of Z's daughter and her family - Kyra's husband, Greg, our granddaughters Jaden and Sophie, and Greg's parental units, Janet and Wayne.

The morning involved visits to several local stores. The competition is getting fierce, and the quality at some of them is falling off. Hardest hit is our beloved Lidl - with the quirky middle isle with all the weird stuff on it. The quality of goods has fallen off, and the middle isle is pretty bare.

The afternoon was spent cleaning, cooking, and, in my case, reacquainting the trumpet with my face. Peter is making goulash in the kettle on the fire. Vera is making dumplings on the stove, and they are taking turns making palacsinta (crêpes) = Jaden's favorite food group.

*****

After dinner, we put together there was a "Wine Thing" downtown. It's a kind of traveling circus of the local vineyards, moving from town to town around the lake all sumer (Balaton is one of the major wine producing regions in Hungary). You buy a glass for 300 Ft. (about $1.50), and then float from booth to booth buying "tastes." A "taste" is about half a glass, and will set you back between 120-800 Ft. ($1.00 - $4.00 USD). There are street musicians every block or so. The hottest ticket, crowd wise, is a group playing Hungarian Renaissance music on period instruments - a hurdy-gurdy, wood flute, a dumbek or two, and a bass drum anointed with various percussion "toys." Of course, their popularity could have something to do with the belly dancer fronting the group.

6/29/2011 Niedernhall - Neuenstein - Waldenburg - Schwabisch Hall - Kunzelsau

2011-07-25T07:21:00.000-07:00

Morning in Niedernhall starts with breakfast - bread, meats and cheeses (stinky cheese that will blow your sinuses off, which happens every time we open the fridge), tomatoes, "California" peppers (red bell peppers), scrambled eggs (suprisingly), and palinka (not surprisingly). This mornings entry is apple palinka with "Swiss Herb" tea added. More strongly flavored than most of the breed, after two days I'm finding it schnapps too bad (pun inteded).

My morning constitutional took me around town and then down the bike path along the Kocher River. Niedernhall was founded in the 1300's as one of the many salt mining outpost for the Roman Legions. It is a rediculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch towers and all. An amazing place.

Leaving town, I walked by the local schools, just starting for the day (it feels deliciously subversive to watch others work at my main occupation and not have to do it myself). The view along the river is stunning. The quaint houses are lined up down along the river. Farther up the sides of the narrow valley are rows and rows of grapes (great terroir). All of this is capped by a dense forest along the top of the ridge. It goes on like this for miles.

*****

Today is a pilgrimage of sorts. Z grew up in this neck of the woods and has lots of memories of things and places nearby. As Peter and Vera will be giving up this apartment later this year, after they complete their Hungarian citizenship, this will likely be our last visit back for a while. Between all of this and the area around us being "castle central," we have us a fine day o' sightseeing ahead - so let's get with it!

We started with the castle at Neuenstein (I'm not quite sure why they named their town after a new mug, but...). We can't see much, as "The Dude is home," Z informs me. "The Dude," in this case, is a Duke I gather. There is a pretty English garden in the back, along with some great statuary. As we are coming back through the center of the keep, the grounds keeper/tour guide invites us to check out the old kitchen.

The medieval kitchen is in pristine condition. Our friendly tour guide informs us this is because for around 30 years this building functioned as a retirement home before "The Dude took it back." The retirees never used the room, hence its great condition. "The Dude" and family bust out the room for special events.

It is a dank, bottom floor stone room, as you would expect in a castle (duh.). There is poor ventilation, which explains the black, sooty walls. The first thing you see is a big stone trench for butchering, followed by a swell little fireplace with lots of hooks and platforms for pots and pand and such. There is no chimney as such; the entire roof above the fireplace rises gently to the only opening in the roof line. You can imagine how well this works. (Or just look at the black sooty walls and don't guess!) Near the back is an oevn for bread and the like, as well as a peep hole for the servants to see if dinner was ready. They were not allowed in the room until it was. A cool look at history, and a bargain at 1 Euro a head!

From there we drove up the hill to Waldenburg. The flag is flying over the castle to let us know - you guessed it - "The Dude" is home. This "Dude," also a Duke, has a really great location, but a pretty small castle. It is located on the top of a largish hill. On a clear day, you can see all the way to - well you know.

I am amazed at how small these castles we are seeing really are. I can only imagine it must have been hell during a siege.

Down the hill we go, past Peter's former employer, Stahl. Peter was involved with the construction of this building from the beginning, and functioned as the union head for as long as he worked therte. He is well loved by his former bosses and fellow employees, and gets invited back frequently for big events.

Next up is Schwabisch Hall. It is a rediculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch towers and all. If you were looking for a place to film fairy tales, look no further than here.

There is a beautiful, centrally located church on the square. They use the enormous front steps to stage outdoor theatre productions in the summer - a pretty clever idea. There were rehearsals for some '60's thing going on as we walked through. Most of the shows seem to be musicals - "My Fair Lady" is on deck this summer - and mapping out choreography on the steps for dance numbers seemed to be challenging.

We had lunch in an outdoor cafe by the river. Z had a noodle and cheese thing (think high rent mac and cheese). I had a salad and a baked dish with carrots, potatoes, zuchini and red pepper in a very light tomato/onion sauce. Very nice. It was all washed down with the local suds - Haller Lowenbrau (The first part is pronounced "Heller," the second "Low-ven-btoi"), and no, it's not that one. Lowenbrau means "lions beer." As "The Dude" up the hill used to be responsible for the town, and he has a lion on his crest - Lowenbrau. They also have a pretty good time with the "Haller" part of their name in their advertising campaign, involving a nun yelling (go read the pronunciation again), until a few complained. I enjoyed a glass of their pils, Z, their wheat. Mine was light and refreshing, with a wonderful floral nose, and that great German pils bitter/sweet thing on the palate. At around 5%, it is a great session beer, pretty swell.

After lunch, we moved up the valley to Kunzelsau. It is a ridiculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch tower and... - look, you could use this description for most of the town in Germany. I've even started abbreviating it that way in my journal. You want fancy description, you should be reading the blog of an English teacher, not a musician (and the spelling is probably better, too!). This all said, there is less of a "Ye Old-ee" feel here, but more meaning. This is where Z went to school and grew up. Every other building elicits cries of "Oh!" or "that's where..." It was fun to watch all the memories come back for her.

The afternoon ended with cappuccinos at her favorite local coffee shop from her college days. From there we hurried home to drink another Haller Lowenbrau and watch the World Cup.

*****

The "Afternoon Coffee Ritual" and Why You Will Never Get It at Starbucks.

This is one of my favorite things about all of my trips to Europe so far. Mid-afternoon, everything stops, and you sit down for a chat and an espresso - or cappuccino or whatever. Every house, in addition to the coffee pot, has a small espresso pot to make the stuff. It is amazing what that little break in the day does for you.

You should not get the impression that what we are talking about is the Starbucks-Over-Roasted-Swill here. This is a proper cup of espresso - a tiny bit bitter, with sweet notes on top. Served in a nice little porcelain cup - it is an exquisite custom.

And it moves up a whole eighty or ninety levels when you do it while you are out. No paper cups here. You don't even go to the counter - they come to you, while you sit at the table - often in an atractive outdoor setting. Your coffee comes on an attractive little tray, in an ornate little cup. On the side is creamer and sugar in cute little packaging. A small, clear glass of bubbly water on the side, along with a sweet of some type - chocolate or espresso beans in attractive packaging.

You couldn't do this at a Starbucks = in fact they don't at the one down the street. The Americans just walk off with the stuff. Sad really.

6/28/2011 Portland - Chicago - Niedernhall

2011-07-25T01:50:00.000-07:00

Once again we are picked up by Hailey and whisked away to the airport. This year, the flight time was late enough that we could swing by and enjoy breakfast at our favorite hole-in-the-wall in Portland, the Cameo Cafe. If you have never been to this place, try and go on a Saturday or Sunday morning. There is a cast of characters here worthy of a movie musical (that will probably get written some day). We had time to hang with Sue Gee, the owner, a bit, and enjoy the morning special. It was, as always, a wonderful way to start a trip.

We had an interesting moment this year going through our security vetting at PDX. I breezed through (uncommon, I usually have too much stuff in my pockets and forget something), and Z did not (also uncommon - she has a purse!). They held her on the other side of the scanner and asked me if it would be OK if they scanned her carry-on again. Weird, but sure, why not? They turned it sideways, ran it again, and then let Z through. The nice TSA lady, Dorian, asked us, as she opened the bag to look for the urn, if we "were carrying the ashes of an ex or someone?" We had a nice laugh, as we discovered that spices look the same as ashes in a carry-on. Yes, we travel with spices - don't you?

Continuing our, now long standing, tradition of running into folks at the airport as we leave town, we ran into an old acquaintance from college days in Eugene while waiting for the plane. Ken is also in the ed-biz, and filled us in with horror stories of budget cuts and layoffs in 4-J. As always, the good stewarts of the Eugene school system seem to be trying to outdo everyone in the state of Oregon for the madness of their proceedings.

Forgive me while I rant for a minute. 4-J is cutting some of thier most veteran and successful music teachers, shoving as many as 65 people into an auditorium and asking some poor sod to teach algebra to them (without assistance, of course) - what are they thinking? 4-J is supposed to be one of the most competitive school systems in the state, and it has come to this? Why do the kids even bother to show up? I'm sure they would find things better at their local charter school - oh, wait...

*****

Our seat row numbers from Chicago to Frankfurt - 42 - allowed me endless opportunities to run the old saw into the ground:

Z: "The old guy sitting next to me on the flight from Portland said I was the nicest, cutest thing."

Me, pointing at the row number sign: "That's 'cuz this trip is the answer."

And so on...

We also learned on this leg (not that we didn't know this already), that it really pays to have an attractive, single female row mate on the window side if you have a male Stew (What else do you call them? They're not stewardesses.). For example, Z and the shy single girl both want pasta for dinner. The Stew says, "we're out, but wait a moment. I'll see what I can do." A minute later, suprise! - two pasta dinners. Actually, if nothing else, watching the flirting was good harmless entertainment.

*****

Many of you who know us, know that Z and I consider marriage to have a lot of similarities to the movie "Big, Fat Greek Wedding" - just substitute palinka for Windex. You, then, would understand how hard I laughed to walk into Peter and Vera's apartment in Niedernhall to find a Bundt cake with a flower in it sitting on the table. Opa!

7-22-2011 Kesthely

2011-07-22T09:50:00.000-07:00

Hi All.

I know that you are awaiting new posts from this trip. Unfortunately, we are at the mercy of an antique computer and slow Hungarian internet. We are writing entries, and we will post them all starting on Monday, when we get to Germany and better equipment. More soon...

Dave and Zia

6/26/2011 Pictures

2011-06-26T07:56:00.000-07:00

OK, so Blogger is really stupid. Or my computer is really stupid. Possibly I am really stupid, but that is unlikely. More likely is that all three are true. That said...

I had hoped to add some pictures to previous posts, but it seems I am not allowed to do so. So here are a few, along with commentary. This year, I'll put them up more promptly - really!

Here is my Granddaughter, Jaden, at the Volksfest in Vilsek. This really swell event is a fundraiser for the local community music school and town band. And they serve you the local beer - in mugs the size of your head!

The local suds are made by the Winkler Brewery, who also make a really weird Cola/Orange mix thing that Z really likes. The beer is light and refreshing - lawnmower beer.

Bamberg - an amazingly beautiful place. And home to 8 breweries! This is where Rauchbeir comes from. Dark and smokey, it's really swell with smoked cheese or a smoked brot (hey, I wasn't always a veg!).

Hofbrau! Disneyland for beer drinkers! The party never stops. And if you've had a little much, look carefully in the tree for the local Starbucks (they're everywhere!).

I was taken with this fence in Munich. It's in the right clef and everything.

Marienplatz - one of the most beautiful places on earth. Go vists this amazing place. Listen to Uncle Dave. You won't be sorry.

Bor-fest!

2010-01-24T20:40:00.000-08:00

As proof that we do - occasionally - drift away from the grain, here are some pictures from the Winefest (Bor-Fest) in Vaya Con Dios. As my sister's husband, Jerry, is quick to point out, Hungarian wines are lighter than their American counterparts. But I found them refreshing on a hot day. The festival also included a pretty swell rock band, some really great, homegrown, woodwork for sale (we bought a couple of hand carved platters for the Holidays), vendors selling the usual trinkets, and lots and lots of really great food.

Go to the folk festivals when ever you can, that's where the real people are.

7/26 Munich

2009-07-27T01:44:00.000-07:00

7/26

After a leisurely breakfast and a quick walk with Lola down to get pretzels, we left for Munich. Our intrepid band is joined today by our friend Chrystal and her husband Jared – great company and swell people. This drive is so much like driving to Mt. Angel it could make you homesick (if you weren’t excited about tasting the ingredients all put together). This is the Bavarian hop region, and there were row after row of Hallertauer and Saaz hops. The harvest looks pretty good this year.

We pulled into Munich around 1:30, and, after the quest to find a parking space, went to lunch – at the Hofbrauhaus. OK, I get that this is kind of a big tourist thing now, and the locals all go somewhere else, but it’s kind of like Disneyland for beer drinkers. If you do, you must.

It’s big and crowded and finding a table took time. Then we had to track down our Foam Dude and get our maβ (a maβ is a one liter beer stein). Then the party started. Look, I am a performer. I am fortunate enough to work in some pretty large venues and to see a lot of crowds. This place was like a bomb waiting for a match. You drop a band like, say, Z Musikmakers in here and we could have this place going absolutely bonkers in 5 seconds. People know what they want when they walk in the door, and if they don’t get it, they’ll make it themselves. Three different tables near us were singing German folksongs, accapella. There is a brass band in the middle of the place, with the greatest gig I have ever seen. They play one tune. Then wait 5 minutes or so, and then play another one. They are very good, and when they play there are people dancing in the aisles. But then, another 5 minutes? Come on folks, let’s do this. The best part, though, is the obligatory “ein prosit.” There have got to be hundreds of people in this place, and they are all singing, holding up steins as big as their heads and toasting each other.

Lunch was fabulous. I had a potato frittata thing that was great, and Z had a roasted pig on a spit thing with a huge salad that she said was fab. The service was a little erratic, but probably to be expected in a place this busy. The beer was great session stuff – why I could have had another couple of those steins. Ahh, but there is more beer to drink, so onward.

A short walk down the street took us to the Spatenhaus, the downtown pub for the Spaten and Franziscaner breweries. A short diversion… Bavaria is one of the greatest beer producing regions in the world, and Bavarians drink more, per capita, than anyone else. Every town has a little regional producer of something, and almost all of it is swell. Munich is home to the big breweries, and there are traditionally five. The oldest is Augustiner Brauerei, and then there are Hacker-Pschorr, Löwen-Bräu (that’s “Low-ven-broy” kids, not “Low-en-brow”), Paulaner Brauerei , and Spaten-Franziskaner-Bräu and then there is Staatliches Hofbräuhaus, which is a brew pub, but is trying hard to grow the empire, plus various other swell brew pubs.

As long as we are diverging – many of you, my friends, are like me, Hopheads. We like big beers full of those wonderful green flowers. 100 BU’s, oh, come one, bring it! The beers we are talking about here are more subtle than that. They are in balance, and not big in the Northwest sense, so you can sit around knocking them back all day in mugs the size of your head. That said, some of them have more of the little green flower, and those, of course, are my faves. For this reason, I was looking forward to trying Spaten on their own turf. They seem to be unafraid of hops.

A nice clean place with what looks to be a pretty good restaurant, we just settled in for beer this trip. Hoppy within the breed, pleasant – a nice session beer, much like the Hofbrau suds, but hoppier. We sat and enjoyed a beer and watched the protest gather in front of the restaurant. They didn’t like something in Iran, I gather.

We left Spaten to do a little shopping and check out the sights. We found the factory store for Manner Cookies, the greatest cookies on the planet, not that I am biased. We enjoyed the view of a couple more amazing churches, had a cup of Starbucks (supporting both my stock and my bladder at the same time, what a deal!), and endured a torrential downpour in the doorway of one of those amazing churches and then bought really, frightfully expensive umbrellas to make sure that the rain thing didn’t happen again.

When traveling, sometimes you get lucky. There is often a best way to see the sights – a correct order, if you will. We had just bought our umbrellas, and the clouds were beginning to thin a bit, and I heard the sound of the Glockenspiel. Munich is supposed to have a killer one of these, so I wandered down the street to investigate. I have been in Europe long enough to have seen some amazing churches and buildings, and like to think that I am somewhat immune. But, alas this is another one of those spots where words are going to fail me. As you enter Marienplatz, at least from the direction I did, you get an amazing view of an incredible church steeple. And then another one. And then another one. And then a remarkable statue, and they just keep piling this stuff on and on. I have never seen anything like it, it was beautiful. And then I turned around to see the Glockenspiel on the front of the Neues Rathaus (New City Hall). This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I kind of stood there and walked around in circles with my face to the sky and tears running down my cheeks. You must go to this beautiful place. Don’t miss it. Really, you’ll be glad you listened to Uncle Dave. (The glockenspiel is kind of cool, too, but doesn’t have Christiana playing violin on it, so it’s my second favorite.)

We caught a few more sights and then moved onto the Augustiner pub downtown to try beer from the oldest brewery in Munich. Unfortunately, we got lost and had to settle for the pub next to the Hofbrau, rather than their old pub building. As my Father-In-Law says, “if you do it all on the first trip, you’ll have nothing left to do next time.” Augustiner is another great Bavarian session beer, not that I have had a bad one yet. Look, some of them have water that is a little soft, which doesn’t work for me (example, the dread Jelen Pivo – stay away), some of them could have more hops (most of the local stuff), but at least they are in balance with themselves, are tasty and refreshing, and are served in great big huge mugs. I’ve not had a bad one yet. But it’s like pumpkin pie, the worst slice you ever had wasn’t that much worse than the best one you’ve ever had. Augustiner is pretty good. I’ll drink it again.

7/19 Keszthely, Melk, Vilseck

2009-07-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

7/19

We left Kezsthely this morning after breakfast, amid the usual tears. It is hard when your parents live in a country half way around the world to say good-bye. Z and her folks take it particularly hard this year.

We traveled across Hungary, stopping so that Greg could take a look at a German Tiger tank that they are giving rides in for a fee. I guess they are pretty rare, and were quite something in the war. Other than a half hearted attempt at the “City-Name-Game,” the rest of Hungary was uneventful.

We crossed the border into Austria. The alpine vistas are beautiful, rolling hills, small woods surrounded by green pastures, fields of corn, wheat and barley. Every so often there are cute little villages, each with its fortress or onion domed church. Probably the most famous of these (mostly due to its proximity to the freeway) is Melk. We stopped to stretch our legs.

This church is a huge presence on the side of the freeway. It is still a Benedictine Monastery, so parts are off limits. We choose to just walk the outside. There are many baroque paintings and statues to look at, and the view of the city and the church is amazing. This is probably why so many tour groups stop here (that, and the proximity to the freeway). Yet another reason not to take the tour and move on.

More hills and scenic views surround our journey. We turned and moved down into the flat lands, into Germany, and onto Vilseck without any further muss or fuss.

**********

Veldensteiner (www.veldensteiner.de), Neuhaus/Pegnitz Brewery

Nice foamy, white head, with a cloudy yellow beer below. A little bit of yeast, a lot of hops, a little bit of malt. A nicely balanced beer, but not too big, a swell session wheat, without really tasting like one. We had a Zwick’l Kellerbier from Bayreuth Brewery that was a lot like this, just a tiny bit darker.

7-13 and 14, Keszthely and the dentist (part 2)

2009-07-18T06:04:00.000-07:00

7-13

Today is a red letter day. I get my teeth back! Z is spending the morning with her genius hairdresser lady. It is sunny. The mosquitos are in hiding. All is right in our world.

**********

So after all of the build up, I'm afraid getting the crown was anticlimactic. A quick check to make sure it fit, dry and swab the tooth it was covering, and glue the crown in. The whole thing took less than 20 minutes. Both visits and all the work, the new crown and all, cost less than 275 bucks, no insurance.

**********

7-14

It's getting hot (over 100 degrees), so it's a good time to hang by the lake. But first, or typical morning - breakfast, trumpet practice, a power walk, watching Z shop for shoes - then lunch.
We went down to the "public beach." It costs 900 forint (about 4 dollars, 50 cent), but gives you the run of the basic facilities in exchange. No paid bathrooms, a couple of water slides, deck chairs (if you get there early enough), a heated pool, various playground toys, and occasional special events. It is quite the zoo of humanity, and the people watching is choice.

**********

Forgive me while I rant...

So somebody please explain the shoe fetish thing to me. My wife, Z, who agonizes over spending two bucks for a loaf of good bread, turned loose in a shoe store becomes a lady on a mission. We cannot, under any circumstances, without exception, miss ANY opportunity to shop for shoes. We could see the exact same brand name store we just searched to death 15 miles ago, we could be passing a place we shopped for hours yesterday, and we MUST stop and shop. Because they may have something different - or something. I just don't get it. Now if it was something important like trumpets or sound equiptment, maybe...

7-12, Pécs

2009-07-18T05:39:00.000-07:00

7-12 (Pictures soon)

After a bumpy two-hour drive we reached Pécs and immedeatly headed for the market (Peter's favorite pastime). This one, however, is a big surprise, literaly. The thing is huge. In addition to all the usual stuff - antiques, clothing, kettles, cookware, etc., - they have cornered the market on underwear. Thong anyone?

We bought a small kettle to make vegetarian goulash in and a Kurtős cooker - a stick thing that is used to make Z's favorite dessert over here. And it even comes with a recipe! In essence, it is a large wooden cylinder on a big metal stick (that should be really easy to pack). You wrap a slightly sweet dough around the cylinder and then roll in sugar, cinamon, vanilla sugar, etc., and then toast over an open flame (or open heating element) until the dough is cooked through and the outside is toasty brown. They are pretty swell. Ask Z nice and maybe she'll make you one. She has the "thing" now!

**********

From the market we moved downtown. I'm really not quite sure what to make of it. On the one hand, there are these beautiful buildings everywhere. Just when you say "they'll never top THAT view" you turn the corner - and they do! The German name for Pécs is Funf Kirche or Five Churches. They are all here, along with mosques, an ornate City Hall, the Hungarina National Theater, street art, fountains... it's almost overwhelming. Very, very beautiful.
But on the other hand, occasionally you have to look and see where you are going. When you bring your eyes to street level, there is graffitti everywhere. While the city is free of garbage, it looks like it could use a good dusting. There are several public works projects going on, as Pécs won the right to be the European Union's "Cultural Centre" next year, hence all the construction. I'm sure it will look better next year. On the whole, right now looking up is better.

We had lunch at the István Pince Borozo, a Wine Keller down a side street. They have a small, simple menu for lunch. When you ask for it, the waitress takes it off the wall and brings it over to the table for your perusal. I had a nice veg plate, Z had a hearty bean soup. It was very good.
We walked up the pedestrian mall and enjoyed an espresso and slice of cake. Mine was a ginger cake with a chocolate - cherry topping that was more than a little fab. it is called goose foot... We enjoyed it on the deck, surrounded by swell views. I am getting hopelessly spoiled.

**********

We spent the afternoon as the guests of the Matisa Family, Angi, Laci-bacsi, Ocsi (Zoltan), Otti and her husband, and little tiny Vanda, who fed us - another lunch, hurray! Actually, this lunch is hitting me about the same time as the wonderful poppy seed bread from yesterday, so the bathroom and I were friends for about an hour or so. You know, these guys have a phone in their shower? Between visits to the plumbing, we had a nice, but short visit. I am looking forward to getting to spend more time with these wonderful and charming people on our next visit.

7-10 Keszthely

2009-07-16T04:31:00.000-07:00

7-10

Today it rained buckets and buckets of rain. Z and I took a long walk and got chewed out for getting so wet. Felt nice, though.

**********

Dreher Black (Bock)
Really a doppelbock, it had a deep black color and a nice brown frothy head. The nose is carmel and a bit of alcohol. Lots of carmel malt in the front and a nice, chewy texture. There are some hops that hang on at the end for the smooth glide down the throat. Probably a 5.5%, maybe a little bigger. This is a surprisingly good Hungarian dark.

7-9, Hungarian Driving Rules, Eszterhazá, Eisenstadt, Széchény, and Franz Joseph Haydn

2009-07-16T03:03:00.000-07:00

7-9

We are going to visit the summer digs of the Eszterhazy family today - patrons of one Franz Joseph "Papa" Haydn, the greatest composer of the classical period. More than Beethoven, you ask? Sorry, Beethoven is a Romantic. Better than Mozart, you ask? Why, yes. How many Trumpet Concertos did Mozart write, huh? In fact, Haydn said that his Trumpet Concerto was his "most perfect" concerto (in truth of advertising, the actual quote is "It is a shame that I have written my most perfect concerto for such an imperfect instrument." But let's not quibble).

**********

Hungarian Driving Rules

1) 50 KPH in the city, 90 KPH in the country.

2) You have to wait for the light to change before you can turn - then move!

3) You get a yellow light before the green light. This is so you can rev the engine and set up the kids in the next lane for the speed trap up ahead.

4) The trucks are really, really big - really. On the small, two lane back roads, they like to drive right down the middle. You would be best advised to get over. They win.

5) You will see all kinds of cartoon-like signs by the side of the road - numbers with red circles around them, empty yellow diamonds with red slashes through them, and, my personal favorite, a red bordered triangle with an exclamation point in it (what does it mean?). Feel free to ignore all of these signs, everyone else does.

A few words about passing...

Passing is the national sport in Hungary. Hungarians will pass you anywhere, anytime. Busy two lane street in a small town, you're toast. Blind corner at 90 KPH, look out - here I come. No passing stripe, not a problem.

A hypothetical situation: you are driving down a narrow two-lane street. There is barely enough room for two cars to squeek by each other in opposite directions. The car coming toward you has an obsticle in their lane that will necessitate the driver of that car merging into your lane. You will arrive at the obsticle at the same time. You can depend upon the fact that the other driver will not slow down, and will soon be driving right at you. In a game of Chicken the Hungarians win. They have more practice.

The lesson here, of course, is check your mirrors early and often - so you can live in constant fear of what you see there!

**********

We left the house early, which meant that we arrived at Eszterhazá an hour before they opened. This gave us time to relax at the Ettrem accross the street and enjoy an espresso and a sandwich, while admiring the ornate front gate. ( sandwich - thick creamy mushroom soup with big chunks of mushrooms on a baguette with cheese melted on top )

Once inside, we started with the tour. We are only able to take half of the tour today, as they are filming on the other side. Regrettably, this is the side with most of the Haydn exhibits in it.
So you are on a tour. It is of course in Hungarian, not your language. What does it look like? Like this...

Tour Dude: (in a total monotone) "Batabatabatabatabata..." (2 minutes and 12 seconds pass) "...batabatabata."

Not a problem, you have your trusty translator along, who will help you figure out what was just said and bring you right up to speed.

Z (translation): "car."

To be fair, she did buy me a nice book on Haydn at the bookstore. She said there was too much to translate. About half way through the tour I noticed a couple of folks referring to a piece of paper. This was the Italian translation of the Tour Dude speach. Turns out they had one in English, too. Oh well.

On the plus side, we got to hear a Haydn piece or two, snapped a couple (illegal) shots of some music and music stands, watched a weird movie about a fireworks presentation that made no sense until later, and kicked in a couple of Forint for the new Haydn memorial statue.

We then crossed the border into Austria and went to the Eszterhazy's home base in Eisenstadt. There was a mention or two of them in the two hours of exhibits we looked at, but it seems the good folks of Eisentadt have decided that there is more money in Haydn. And the best part is that the tour and exhibits are in English! No cars!

There are all kinds of cool things for the music guy here. There are original documents and manuscripts in Haydn's own hand, original documents from Mozart and Beethoven, too, and, for the trumpet player, some pictures and information of Johann Nepomuck Hummel. (As an aside, the way I see it, the Eszterhazy's were respnsible, at least througth patronage, for two of the three trumpet concertos in the standard rep. We owe them a big vote of thanks.) A well organized and presented tour - well worth the time. Oh, and the fireworks - the Eszterhazy's liked to put on big exhibitions for guests. Marie Antoinette (that one) got the biggest, and evidently what we were watching a recreation of at Eszterhazá.

They also have a pretty swell wine cellar here. The Eszterhazy's, like many of the nobility, were into lots of stuff. The wine cellars still produce several award-winning wines, that you can sample here or buy for later enjoyment.

We wandered downtown to explore, after our tour finished, and found a café for coffee and pastries on the central square. We had no more than sat down outside, under the umbrella, when we had the stereotypical Hollywood rain storm - you know, a clap of thunder and then rain that looks like someone turned on a shower directly above you. I didn't know those really existed. If you have been mocking them in the movies for years like I have, sorry, it's for real. The folks in the café abandoned us with our coffee and pastry.

We finished our castle tour with a looksie at the digs of Count Istvan Széchény. Of course, we had to find it first. We saw all kinds of back country roads before we realized we had the map upside down. After figuring that out, finding the castle was a cinch!

So Széchény, the man national hero Kossuth (and my Father-In-Law Peter) call "The Greatest Hungarian." He was responsible for the dredging of the Danube so that it was suitable for freighting. He paid for and built the first Chain Bridge in Budapest (it has been bombed a few times, but always rebuilt) and followed it up by building the tunnel at the end of it. His biggest claim to fame is as a champion of the Hungarian language. At a time when German and Latin were the offical languages of government, he had the courage to speak his native language in the Lower House, starting a language revolution. Paul Lendvai, in his book "The Hungarians" (page 191-205) discusses all of this much better than I do, if you are curious.

Anyway, the castle. Well, we couldn't see the inside because, you guessed it, they were making a movie. The outside was large. And white. (As they often are.)

7-6 Keszthely, the dentist, and more language issues

2009-07-14T02:41:00.000-07:00

7-6

We started the day off, as we always do, with breakfast and the paper on the deck. The paper is the local rag, BORS. Compared to the other Hungarian language papers I have seen, it is only mildly pornographic. It does, however, have a resonably reliable weather forcast - 85 degrees and hot today. Sounds like a nice day to visit the dentist...

...who doesn't open until one. To stall, we wandered down to the Centrum for a cord to connect the camera to the computer. We forgot ours at home, and it seems, won't be able to get a replacement downtown. The nice guy at the computer store burnt us a disc of what we have, though.

After a quick lunch, and a thorough brushing (you do it too, come on, admit it), we made our way back to the dentist. There is good dentistry in Hungary, but it is all no-frills stuff. Z has filled my head with stories about lack of novocain and other fun things like that - just do the job and get out. To say that I am a bit apprehensive would be an understatement. Oh, and of course, we don!t share a language. Z, thoughtfully, has taught me the word "ouch" in Hungarian on the way over. Should you ever happen to need it, the word is "Faj" and pronounced "Fie."

We were admitted after a short break and the dentist had us in to explain the problem. I got to try out the chair and look at the tray of little sharp, pointy, whirly thingies that would soon be attacking my mouth. The dentist found it all to be no problem, and told us to come back that afternoon at 3:30. A same day appointment at the dentist? Boy, we really aren't in Kansas any more.

Z told me on the way home the first thing he said to the dental assistaint when I sat down in the chair was "hand me a diaper." It wasn't for concern about me completely loosing it. That's what they use for drool rags in Hungary - nice.

So, 3:30. There I am, sitting in the chair, agonizing over the novicain shots they kindly gave me, and the drilling starts. The tooth dust is everywhere, as it will do, and that sickening smell of ground tooth is in the air. At this point, when you are feeling most vulnerable, the dentist and aid, who, mind, have been nothing but cooly professional all day, exchange a quick sentence and begin cackling evilly over the top of me. This went on for about 10 minutes, with me having fantasies the whole time of all my teeth being ground to dust. Then came three attempts at getting an impression of my teeth - evidently the compound used wasn't setting correctly. Then he shoved some weird light device into my teeth, followed by muted cursing - of course raising my confidence level. After that we were allowed to leave. I don't think I ran.

Z filled me in afterward. The laughing had to do with the detist's daily trip to the beach to go swimming - the reason he doesn't open until after 1. The light thing is a color matching device for the enamel on my teeth so they can make a replacement the same color. The nurse evidently told him that he never can get that thing to work, and he should just use the color pallet-stick things, that he ended up using anyway. He told Z I don't get a temporary - I shouldn't need it. Oh, and the best part. I get to go back next week and have him set the crown - Joy!

**********

More language issues... How do you explain the difference between "brake light" and "breaking news?" Vera would like to know.

7-5 Kesthely

2009-07-14T02:32:00.000-07:00

7-5

I haven't done many beer entries this trip, as we haven't had many new ones. You may, of course, assume that I am enjoying them, though. Several in fact. A new discovery this trip is Szalon White. It is a nice little amber to yellow colored beer with a bright white head that disappears quickly leaving a foamy ring of tiny bubbles around the glass that hang on for the whole thing. Faint hints of banannas in the nose, as expected in a wheat beer. It is pleasently citrusy, at least owing partially the the obligitory lemon. Some hops toward the end, but not out of balance with the malt. Not a big beer, but very refreshing on this hot day. It certainly is not a Fransiscaner or Erdinger, but not bad for Hunary.

**********

Vera, Z and I went shopping at the "Russian Market" this morning. The down economy has affected little road side markets like this. It is easily half as big as last year. The Indians are still here with their pan pipes, though.

**********

We are having a lot of fun with language this trip. I am becoming something of a trained monkey with my 16 or so words of Hungarian. This evening Z and Vera are reading an English language cookbook we brought - or rather Vera is, while they both disolve into histerics over her "phonetic" misreads. Slicing becomes "Schlitzing" (exposing vegetables to bad beer?), and whipping becomes wiping (not quite the same thing). But they certainly are enjoying themselves.

7-4, Kishyges, Kecskemet

2009-07-13T09:29:00.000-07:00

7-4

And a Happy Fourth of July to you all! No fireworks for us this year. We did drive by a sunflower field this morning. Acres of sunflowers point right at us. I swear you have never seen yellows that bright before. I guess fireworks are where you look for them.

We leave Kishegyes today for Kesthely, via Keckesmet. Leaving here is something that I do with a bit of remorse. I love the sincerity and work ethic of these people. I admire the simplicity and serinity with which they live their lives. That said, I couldn't live here. I don't have the required skill set. It is a beautiful place though. I'm glad, as always, that Z shares it with me.

**********

I've had this recurring fantasy of a K-Ha-3 commercial. Beaming female model-type proudly displaying bottle. Voice over: "K-Ha-3. Now with three times the Ha!." Reality is, it would never work. They don't use voice overs in commercials in Serbia. Sad. I could have made a mint!

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The amusing part of driving in a foreign country is you get to see the new and amusing signs. This mornings entry: the tire stores in Serbia are called "Vulcanizer." It fills the head with wonderful visions of a big machine that turns you into Mr. Spock or something.

We also went by the Tuning Disco again. Just a reminder, kids. Tuning is not a village in China, but it is a Disco in Hungary. Make sure you use the little box to be safe...

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We flew through the Serbian border, but the crossing into Hungary is taking a little longer. You get to open both the trunk and the hood this time - if you are lucky. The lady in the car in front of us is having a hard time of it. I'm guessing she just had her nails done and it is hard to open those latches...

I am glad we are not on the other side. The Northern German provences just went on Summer Break and everyone is going to the Baltic. The line is really long. And that's right kids, that means the rest of Germany is still in school!

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Up to Keckesmet to see Kazi, Zsuzsa, Kis-Kazi and Claudia. I blew most of my travel budget in the Kodaly store, which, after three trips, was finally open. Between the music and the Traditional Hungarion Cowboy outfit, I dropped mare than I should have. But come on. How many people can say they have a Traditional Hungarin Cowboy outfit? Still need to get the hat, but Peter promises to pick one up for me at the market in the fall when they sell such things. I'll need to get the boots at home. Should make a nice school outfit one day!

Kis-Kazi and I lead everyone and their cars out to Zsuzsa and Kazi house - always an adventure in towns without street signs.

Conversation around the table is enthusiastic, as always. As always, Greg and I are expected to participate. As always, the Metaxa makes it possible to understand more Hungarian than you even thought you know! As is the beer...and the wine... (Dinner was a Catfish Paprikas with mushrooms and the traditional pasta with curds.)
I love these people more than all of Z's relatives that I have met so far. They are very good at making you feel comfortable, and keep you involved in things. It was a very enjoyable visit.

7-3 Kishyges and Dombos Fest

2009-07-11T05:43:00.000-07:00

7-3

We had guests early this morning. The breakfast dishes were barely cleared when Pisti and Rozsa dropped by to say goodbye. The conversation is spirited. The weather is destroying the local wheat fields and the price is going up. If you can salvage what you have, you can make a killing, but few can. Dombos comes up in the conversation, and then other topics. Z has been leaving me hanging a lot this trip, leaving me free to watch the flies cavort about the table. The reality is that Z says she is having a harder time tracking conversations this trip than on any previous one. Evidently everyone is talking more quickly and all at the same time. By the time she has processed it, they have moved on to a new topic. The things they are talking about are leading her to believe that they are feeling their own mortality. I would hypothesize, however, that it goes a bit deeper than that. Everyone can feel the changes coming here, from the news paper to the people on the street. I think they are trying to hold onto as much of "home" as they can before the changes overwhelm them.

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After my morning power walk to Cuban jazz, we made a quick trip down the street to see Pityu-Basci. Faithful readers of our blog will remember him as the host of the 75th birthday party with the quince schnaps (if you missed it, it's the entry on 7-16-06). Z and this couple go way back, as they used to live in the same village in Germany and used to look after her when she was a kid. Pityu-Basci is looking really bad. The smoking is catching up, I fear.

From there we went by to say goodbye to Imre, Kati and Emese. Our conversation took us through a comparison of teaching salaries. Emese makes 400 Euroes a month, no benefits. She has a masters degree and 17 years experience. She is considered well paid in this society. (By comparison, my monthly take home is several multiples higher, and I get health insurance and a retirement.) Tearful hugs all around, and it is time to leave. Later in the afternoon we will repeat this experience with Beethoven-Bacsi and Mozart-Neni.

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Some random notes:

Word has gotten around that Jaden likes Palacsinta, which are crepes to you and me. We have had them plain, with jelly, sweetened cream cheese and fruit, homemade preserves, etc., etc. The masterpiece was the desert at Capriolo, an amazing masterpiece involving a hazel nut pureé filling and a chocolate ganosh. Jaden still prefers hers with cinammon and sugar.

Peter has given me a bottle of Palinka from Lajos' cellar. I figure it is about 1.5 liters, and is sealed with a bottle cap, so it can't be resealed. So we'll be looking for a big event to consume this - you've been warned.

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Speaking of Palinka, Beethoven-Bacsi proudly showed off the works to me today. In case you've wondered, here is how the stuff is made.

Schnaps is made from fruit, so you have to get that first. Hungarians make palinka from plums, cherries, pears, quince fruits, apples, katata berries, elderberries and apricots (apricot, in Hungarian, is "barack" - so you cam immagine how popular apricot palinka was after the last electon). The fruit must be eatable, no mild or black spots. 100 kilos of fruit is put into a barrel with 2 kilos of sugar to help start it all working, and it is left to "cefre" or, as would say, mash. It is stirred once a day, but otherwise left uncovered until the liquid at the top is clear. The liquid is then poured into the still and heated until it comes out in a stream on the other side about the size of a match stick. The remaining seperated solids and liquids are discarded, and the distilation process is repeated. The target alcohol level is 55% by volume. Age as is appropriate. Enjoy.

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Dombos fest this evening started with a duet performance by a "performer" and a "musician." The musician played the bandoleon and is pretty good. The performer was a "vocalist." Their set lasted about one-half hour, which I will never get back.

The second group was, dig this, a klezmer band! A really great one too. This is still a pretty courageous thing to do around here, so my hats are off to them. They covered the best bands (Klezmer Concervatory Band, etc.) and their originals were pretty ok. The strongest musicians seemed to be the clarinet and guitar players. The pianist and drummer were god enough to support without getting in anyones way, I almost felt like they were being under utilized. The bass player, a leggy model-type, would not be picked by anyone as a musician, but had excellent chops. The violinist, a pretty crucial instrument in a klezmer band was smart enough to not over ornament past her abilities. She played cleanly and simply, always a good call if you are in over your head. Then there was the trombone player. Musically, when things were written out for him, he mostly got the style. His improv, though, was seriously stiff and scaler. Actually, I didn't need to hear him play to know it was going to be like this. You are always tipped off that a performer is not feeling confident in their abilities when they walk on stage wearing a mask. All of the performers seemed comfortable on stage and with each other. The only negative was the moron sound guy who thought he could "help" the energy by turning it up much too loud. A pretty hot show!

7-2 Kishyges and Topolya

2009-07-11T02:19:00.000-07:00

7-2

As further proof that things are not happy here in Serbia yet are recent articles in the Hungarian language Magyar Sző detailing attacks on people speaking Hungarian in the larger cities. Peter reinforced this a few days ago when he suggested we take the car up to Topolya to walk around, but to "be careful not to speak Hungarian" because there has been some violence there (Z and I, of course, hold lengthy conversations in Hungarian all the time). I am always a bit amazed by all of this. Here is a country that is currently doing everything it can to get into the Europen Union. They are rebuilding their infrastructure, getting all the modern conviences and stuff. Yet they still feel that they must snuff out the "foreigners." If they can't live peacably with each other in their own backyard, who is going to trust them in the international community.

Today is the beginning of Dombos (that's doam-bosh) Fest, the local music festival. It is held in an open field west of town. There is some talk that this will be the last year of the festival. It is heavily subsidized by the Serbian government and they are finding it "too Hungarian." The opening act this evening is a violinist who has made his debut in Carnegie Hall, but only gets 15 minutes of time on stage because he is crazy (read: drug addict). The rest of the evening is filled with a folk dance group and a disco for the kids.

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I haven't really started on the beers yet this trip. Suffice it to say I am "enjoying" a few, or as much as I can in Serbia. Most of them have been covered earlier in the blog. They are generic pilners, around 4.5%, and are yellow fizzy water. My description of them so far can best be somed up with this entry for Master Pils (a Heineken product): "It's a pils. Eh."

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Afternoon kavé this afternoon is spent in the company of Imre and Kati. Another afternoon for me of being a walking knick-knack. It goes with the turf sometimes of being the husband of a Hungarion wife. It's worth it.

The afternoon rains are brewing and the skies are getting that dark blue that foretells our daily afternoon storm is arriving, always an adventure if not at least for a break in the humidity. This afternoon features a huge electrical storm pretty much right on top of us. It didn't seem an opportune time to be holding a metal object, so I put away the horn and dug the show with my grandaughter. Pretty cool!

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Speaking of incongruouities, dinner this evening is as guests of Lajos and Bori at their Capriolo Restaurant (home of the greatest pizza on the planet, but we won't be having any this evening). The first incongruouity, the house sound system is playing flamenco music in Spanish. Then the chord changes start to sound familiar. Then - hey, isn't that? It is! It is! Hotel California, the flamenco version.
Dinner is guinnea hen soup, which I am told is fab, followed by a Greek salad and a mega-huge, Dan Ralph-sized house platter of grilled meat. You could hear the thump of Greg's jaw hitting the table. On the plus side, the chef is a vegetarian. I had the best veg plate I have had this trip, sautéd mushrooms, home-made soft cheese, stir-fried vegies and wild rice pilaf. No one can figure out how he cooks meat so well, but I'm not complaining.

Also dining with us this evening is Lajos III (Lali) with his wife Adrianna, daughter Lena, and Loijos IV, a cute little tyke about a year old. Lali is the head of the Capriolo bicycle empire (search "capriolo" online for their web site), about which you can find more information earlier in the blog. As a result of his buisness interests, Lali speaks excellent English, and so we were able to converse about business (slow, the economy), Greg's tattoos (finom), etc. It was a swell evening that stretched on long enough that we missed Dombos tonight. Maybe tomorrow...

7-1 Subotica and Kishyges

2009-07-10T11:59:00.000-07:00

7-1

Back to Subotica we go today to do some more work on Z's Serbian passport. I am again at the wheel of the mighty Opel, with Vera and Z helpfuly giving me a maze of direction in Hungarian, German and English. We arrived at the courthouse and marched up to the door, only to find that Z will not be allowed in. She is wearing sandals and "this is a place of buisness, not the beach." Keep in mind that these are 100 dollar sandals, not unlike the ones that Vera was wearing under her slacks. Maybe the Serbs are offended by toe nails, who knows? So Vera takes the documents and goes in to meet the judge, while we wait out front. It is only footware, by the way, that keeps you out. Some of the clothing we saw walking though the door was, ummm, really something.

Vera dropped off the papers, and the judge promised that this time they would be processed or he would call the issuing judge in America and get it sorted out. So with that all squared away, we left for home. We may still have to fly to DC just to get it squared away, as it is unlikely that the paper work will be finished before we leave and the only Serbian embassy is in DC. I hear it's pretty in December.

We arrived back at the Keckes homestead just in time to help put away the winter woodpile. It turns out our timing was perfect, we got it all stored away just before the daily thunderstorm.
After lunch I had one of the Mentos that Z bought me at the store, causing an interesting development. The filling on my back tooth broke off. I blame Z. More on this to come, I'm sure.

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I spent the afternoon working on the Cuba project for VSAA for next year, which is kind of incongruous in Serbia. But I can now tell you where the Son comes from, what a Son Montuno is, and all kinds of other cool stuff!

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Dinner this evening is at Z's first cousin's (Anni her husband Pityu and daughter Evelin) house. Steak on the grill, lots of pigeons and other critters for Jaden (and Z) to play with - and enough flies at the table for an Off commercial. Dinner starts with Palinka, bubbly water, and turkish coffee. Z's first cousin is of the "glass is never empty" school of entertaining. So after three palinkas, my glass sits, full, awaiting dinner. Our host brought us fly swatters, and the we entertained ourselves while coversing before dinner by playing the "how many did you get with that swing?" game. Dinner is the house platter, a fine assortment of fine barbecued meats, a Greek salad, pommes - and a fine assortment of fried vegetables for the veg. Seems zuchini are in and that's pretty much all anyone can think of to do with it. On the plus side, they fry better than anyone on this side of the world, never oily or greasy. A pretty fabulous meal and great company.

6-29 Kishegyes, Subotica, Peter's Names Day

2009-07-08T10:36:00.000-07:00

6-29

Lot's to do today, but not so much as to miss starting the day with a shot of Vera's "Holy Water" in honor of Peter's Name Day. This is Palinka patiently aged for over 20 years in the basement. Very smooth, no chaser necessary here - wow!

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So Names Day. In the Catholic countries your Names Day is more important than your birthday. This is the day that you celebrate another year. Towns with churches have a big celebration on the day of the saint their church is named after. Vera's hometown, Bajmok, has a church named Saint Peter Paul, and as we drive through town, the celebration is in full swing.

We are driving through town as we need to get Vera's birth certificate so that she can get one of the new Serbian passports. Obtaining a new passport is the first step in a planned trip to come visit us in the States. Vera's cousin picked it up for us, and has it waiting when we arrived. It is not a happy day here. Vera's cousin's wife's brother had just passed away, everyone assumes of a broken heart. His son had died three weeks earlier of complications brought on due to diabetes. It was a quick, but very sad stop. We would like to stay longer and help comfort the widdow, but, unfortunately, we have an appointment we have to keep.

The next stop is in Subotica at the translators. Z, who has dual citizenship in the US and Serbia, needs one of the new passports too. This involves translating her divorce decree from English to Serbian. The translator is only available on Monday mornings, so off we go.

I believe that I have mentioned before in this blog, but the streets in Europe are stupid. Street names can only be found on houses - usually, but not always, on the corner. So often you have to drive a ways down a street before you know which street you are on. This makes finding the house of the translator an adventure, to say the least. Peter, in this context, is usually muttering curses in Hungarian. I'm thinking of learning a few.

Vera and Z go in to see the translator, while I stay with the car which is, umm, precariously parked. The translator speaks British English, rather than 'Merican, so our stop takes somewhat longer than we might have liked. Z says we are never getting divorced (duh!).

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While I was waiting for Vera and Z to finish, I watched a trombone player who studies at the Conservatory downtown ride by on his bicycle. Damn trombone players are the same everywhere. Riding their bikes around and making me feel guilty. Sheesh!

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We went downtown for espresso before returning home. Real cups and saucers, silver spoons, good coffee, and, best of all, the local savory biscuits that I like so much. We got a large box of 'em and I got to nosh for the rest of the day.

We took a quick stroll before our return drive. We wandered by the Conservatory to pay our respects, but it is audition day for next year, so we aren't allowed in. We did wish several brass players good luck as walked by. Next was the music store, where we find cool guitars but no Serbian folk music. A quick stop at the "Donald's" to pick up lunch for the Bentow's and off for home.

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I spent the afternoon finishing The Storyteller by Anna Porter. It is the story of a young girl growing up in Hungary during the post-war, Communist years, and her Grandfather, a WWI vet, several sport winning olympic athlete, womanizer, and virtuostic storyteller. It is an increasingly dark look at the history of the Hungarian people, especially during the 1900's, although she manages to find a happy ending - of sorts. She gets out of Hungary just after the '56 Revolution by lying to the border gaurd, saving herself and her mother, and joins her grandparents in New Zealand. The coda has her and her family exploring the Hungary of her grandfather and his stories in the '90's after the fall of the Curtain. Turns out he was born just down the street from Kishegyes. A highly recommended book, especially for the afficianato of the history of the Hungarian people.

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Peter's Names Day celebration was held in Kishegyes up the hill at a small ettrem on a miserably humid evening. We were seated in a small dining room by our waiter of the evening, Z's old high school boyfriend (we still aren't sure if he recognized her). He brought us beer as we awaited the fashionably late guests. Beethoven-Basci, Mozart-Neni, Imre and Kati, Emese and Joe with Adam and Arron, Bori and Lajos, Pista and Rozsa, one of Peter's counsin, and, of course, our usual entourage. The carnivores had a platter of beef and chicken. The veg, a plate of fine fried cheese, mushrooms and zuchini. We shared the cole slaw and pommes. Many toasts were toasted with Peter's fine wine and, in the case of the youngsters (Joe, Greg and Dave) Holsten Beer. (More can be found about Holsten farther back in the blog. Nice on draft like this, though.)

We seperated into the "kids" at one end of the table, and the "old folks" at the other. Our end had a lengthy, rambling conversation about pregnancy, school, work, cars, driving to gigs in the US, embarrasing family stories, etc. What the old folks talked about, I couldn't tell you.

6-28 Novi Sad Pictures

2009-07-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

This is the downtown square in Novi Sad. If you look closely in the lower right corner in the building next to the courthouse, you'll see the Mickey D's. They're everywhere...

World Headquarters of the dred Jelen Pivo. Damn yellow whimpy beer...

This was a statue on the fortress that Vera was particularly taken with...

Downtown Novi Sad from the fortress...

Peter and Vera on the fortress wall...

6-28 Novi Sad

2009-07-06T08:49:00.000-07:00

6-28

Today we travel to Novi Sad, the second largest city in Serbia. This is one of those trips that point out that things are not as they should be. First of all, Greg is advised to wear a longer sleeve shirt to cover the tattoo of the Hungarian crown he wears on his arm. We are also cautioned not to speak Hungarian too freely, there have been reprisals lately. I should be OK.

We started at the large open-air market. Peter describes it best, "they have everything except what you want." And it's true! Clothing, kettles, animals (much to Jadens delight), antiques, musical instruments (none that would do you any good for more than decoration though), plumbing, seed, garden implements - the list goes on and on. Our visit is complicated by the fact that we can't find Vera. She went back to pay the parking fee and has gotten lost in the crowd. She finally went back to the car and waited for us there. See, we wanted to find her and we couldn't, prediction true!

From the market we went across the bridge to the old fortress on the hill overlooking the city. A fortress has existed, in one form or another, since the Romans built one in the 1st century BC. The corner stone for the current fortress was layed in the 1690's. The smaller rooms have now all been turned into art studios, and this is now a serious centre of art work. There are stunning views of the city from here, including some classic churches, the Danube, and the supports of old bridges (all three bridges, and many neighborhoods, were taken out by bombs during the Kosovo war - your tax dollars at work).

Kyra (who is pregnant) and Jaden both needed to use a bathroom. In order to do this we needed to pause for refreshment at the local coffee shop. They came back with horror stories about the "trench" style bathroom they found there. Travel tip from Z, face the wall before you squat!

We left the fortress and mosied downtown to eat leasurly lunch (i.e. the cook had to grow all the materials, raise and slaughter the animals, cure the meat, sharpen his cooking knives, remember he needed spices and herbs and send someone out for them, prepare and reduce the sauce, etc.). The square where the cafe is located is a lot different than the other places we have visited. It's hard to describe, but it doesn't feel as - well, old. The church is cool - very colorful, but lacking the detail work that would make it a classic. There is a big "Communist" style statue in a central square in front of City Hall surrounded by the set up for the EXIT Festival. The central square has lots of trees, like many in Serbia, making it feel classy.

Down the street is the brewery of the dreaded Jelen Pivo, the beer as bad as its advertising budget. Europe is home to the greatest alcohols in the world. Germany makes great beer and owns some vineyards. France and Hungary make some great wine and own some breweries. Belgians make beer; Hungarians, Palinka; Scandinavians, Aquavit; Spain, wine; Greeks, Metaxa, etc, etc. The Serbs make war. They have gotten very good at it. As a result, they never entered the European alcohol derby. I offer as proof Jelen Pivo - a whimpy little yellow beer with no head, little flavor, very brief exposure to hops, and nothing on the back of the palate. In short, it is fizzy yellow water. Or shorter still, ick.

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We spent the evening with Beethoven-basci and Mozart-neni. It is the day after Beethoven-basci's Name Day. This is like our Birthday, and calls for flowers and celebrations. More on this tomorrow.

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If you are enjoying what you are reading, drop us a line and let us know! Or better still, let us know what you would like to know more about, we'll try and investigate...

6-27, Kishigyes and Topolya

2009-07-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

6-27

We went into Topolya this morning for the open air market. It is amazing how much more selective you get after a couple of years of doing this. The romance has worn off a little bit and you wander around looking for only the best stuff. We strike out today - although there was this cool bread box...

This is followed later in the morning with a quick visit to Bori and Lajos's house to chat. We also got to sample some of his gold medal winning palinka. Repeatedly. At ten in the morning. Ain't vacation grand! The commercial stuff he is making now is slightly less lethal than the stuff Peter makes. It is smoother in finish and features the fruit flavors a little more prominantly. The three glasses we had this morning didn't hurt a bit.

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Lunch is at the home of Pista and Rozsa. Rozsa has a way of blurting out rather abrupt comments that have been rather hurtful to the ladies in my life in the past, but all seems to be forgiven today. Or so I am led to believe. Pista is one of Z's favorite uncles, because he had the farm with all the animals that she got to play with as a kid. She is always looking forward to meeting the latest animals, and has shared her enthusiasm this trip with Jaden, who can hardly wait to see them all.

Lunch starts with two more glasses of palinka - everyone agrees that Rozsa makes the best around. It is the big, lethal stuff that we have come to know and love. My notes get increasingly hard to read from this point on. Lunch was soup and some chicken thing for the carnivores, fried veggies and cheese for the veg. A very tasty meal, indeed.

6-26 Kishegyes

2009-07-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

6-26

Today we have to register with the police. You have to know where those foreigners are and how to get your hands on them, you know. Of course, this is, at least partially, a way of "putting you in your place." As evidence, I offer our last experience with trying to register (see July 10, 2006 in the blog). The short version is, you have to get a card, the card has to be filled out correctly, and signed by the police. You have 24 buisness hours to do this, or you get a hefty fine. How much of a scavenger hunt and grief you get depends upon how much they like you, how much grief they got from their boss that day, or a whim. The card, of course, is in Serbo-Croation, a language which is not always that dependable. Vera came with us today to run through the scavenger hunt and did pretty ok. She past the card test, and lucked out by getting the son of a neighbor as her police officer. Fourty-five minutes and we were out - a record!

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Our "home and away" visits start later this morning with a trip down to see Imre and Kati, and shortly joined by Emese after handing out report cards and sending her 6th grade homeroom class on vacation. It is always nice to visit with these folks, as they are friendly and outgoing. Emese is working on her English, and I am happy to be a guiney pig. We'll have pictures of all these folks as soon as we can get a cord for the camera!

Greg appears to be going through a bit of culture shock as we converse. (When I say "we" I mean Z, Kyra, and the locals. Jaden is out playing with Emese' son Arron and not being bothered by little things like language.) When asked about it later, he says he is OK, just thinking. We'll have a lot of time for that over the next few days.

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Afternoon finds me on the deck practicing Clarke Studies - in a thunderstorm. Even nature is commenting on how out of shape I am, sheesh!

6-25

2009-07-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

6-25

I spent a few days out of commission due to illness. Seems like I spent a lot of the last half of last school year sick with something. This is really the first time I have felt 100 percent in weeks. Hmmm, sounds like something needs to change!

Vera, my mother-in-law is now playing the phonetic game with me. Jaden was having her morning bowl of Honey Combs, which in Hungarian phonetics, after translation, becomes Honey Thighs, which I suppose is eventually true.

Today we travel to Serbia. This always illicets a certain amount of tension. Think of it like this: Kishegyes is in a region of Serbia that, pre-1919, was part of Hungary. It would be nought unlike Mexico fighting in a war on the opposite side of the US and ending up on the winning side and being given California as compensation. For most of the last 90 years the Serbs and the Croats have either been persuded by the iron fist of Tito not to kill each other off or, more recently, making up for lost time. Now that most of that stuff has kind of worked its self out, they can start on the foreigners. Z told me a story recently a rather scary tale about a buisness man in Beograde involving an abduction and torture. (Ask us about it sometime, we'll fill in the details.) A place where this happens is a little worrysome.

I eveidently am still fighting my bug, as I am spending a lot of this trip asleep in the back seat, so I can't tell you much about it other than we traveled far by car, and, at some point, arrived.

6-22

2009-07-05T10:15:00.000-07:00

6-22

6:20 in the morning and we are picked up by Haley, who will be attending to the house and being abused by the cat while we are gone. She whisked us to the airport and left us to our fate (Z did get a hug out of the deal.

We prechecked our tickets, so arriving at the airport, all that was left to do was check the bags. Since we will be throwing all of this into a car 15 hours from now for our trip to Hungary we tried to get things into the smallest number of bags possible. This, as it turns out, was not the greatest of plans. Two of our three bags, it seems were over weight. So for the price of a new bag (which we could have checked for free) we got our three bags onto the plane and made our way back for breakfast and to board our flight - where, following the Murphy's law of teachers, we got to have a brief chat with the CRHS Video Production students on the way to Nationals in Kansas City (Go Chiefs! - Nick, I want my metronome back!)

Into the air, where for an hour I had the worst sinus pain of my life before blowing a golf ball sized hunk of gook out of my nose. For what it's worth, pretty much everything is seven bucks on US Air now. Buy the drink at the airport. It really is cheaper!

2009-06-20T16:30:00.000-07:00

My how time flies. Another year has gone by, and I still have pictures from last year to load so I can make room for pictures for this year. So anyway, here is a taste of Vilseck, Kyra and Greg's home away from home...

Winkler Brau is the town suds. This is the front of the brewery. We drank a lot of this stuff while we were there. Nice session beer. Looking forward to drinking more of it. Soon...

This view is just down the hill from the bakery, on my morning walk. I liked the flowers on the windows. Some summer when I am home to take care of them, I'm going to do that.

Bayreuth Pictures

2008-08-10T10:44:00.000-07:00

The yellow building is a music school.

Z and I are enjoying a cup of coffee in the cafe.

It is renovation seasons for churches in Germany.

The trumpet is surrounded by piano music, guitar music and the score for Tannhäuser, poor company indeed.

8/10/2008, Bayreuth, Vilseck

2008-08-10T10:18:00.000-07:00

This is our last day in Germany, we fly out tomorrow morning. We spent our last day paying our respects to Wagner and Liszt. Or, that was the plan. Bayreuth is just up the road about 40 miles or so. We left early to beat the traffic.

Bayreuth is an interesting place. It was almost eerie. There is this facade that is the classic "Classic German Village," but it is all so sterile and plain. But if you look down the side streets you see all kids of graffiti and seedy looking adult-type emporiums. It was very disconcerting. We only had a limited amount of time, so we tried to find the famous opera house that Wagner built, but managed to walk around it several times. Don't get me wrong, it is a very pretty place, but just strange. I'll leave the museums and things for the next trip.

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So what have we learned, now that we are at the end of journey number two:

1) The Hungarian people are as fiercely proud and independent as always.
2) Driving on the Autobahn is a lot of fun, but after paying the gas bill, probably not worth the thrill.
3) The Bavarian people are as wonderful and full of Gemulichite as they say, just be careful of them when they get behind the wheel.
4) Some of the most beautiful buildings in the world are here - I don't care what anybody says.
5) These folks really know how to throw a party!
6) Portland claims to be Beervana, but Bavaria is just as good.
7) My family are the greatest people anywhere, and I love them.
8) My wife is the most wonderful person on the planet, and I thank her for once again showing me her world.

And so, once again we are finished. Thanks to Kazi and Zzusza, Gabor and Kis-Kazi for showing me the most beautiful city I have ever seen. Thanks to Peter and Vera for sharing their home, their country and their love. Thanks to Kyra for being the daughter I never had, and Jaden for being the best Granddaughter I do have (don't tell her she is the only one), and for showing me such a great time in Germany. Thanks to all of the army wives who provided conversation and transportation. And most of all, thanks to my wife, Zia, for once again sharing her home and family with me. I am a better guy for all of these people.

So, back to the USA, just in time to relive the whole thing. If you are free, Z Musikmakers will be in Sandy for Oktoberfest on the first Saturday in September and Mt. Angel the second Thursday through Sunday. Come on by, and I'll show you what I learned!

8/9/2008, Pottenstein & Suss

2008-08-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

Soooo...looks like we are in bonus time in beautiful Bavaria. There are worse places to hang out for a few extra days.

I started today with a walk to Suss. In a state where every next town is more beautiful than the last, a place called "sweet" had to be something special. Eight miles out small country back roads through wonderful little bergs, I finally arrived. So, um, Suss, well....eh.

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We entertained ourselves this afternoon by traveling to Pottenstein. It is a small village in the hills south of Bayreuth that is kind of amusement central. Jaden and I took a bobsled ride down the hill. The trip started with Jaden saying "not too fast, Grandpa," and ended with "faster, Grandpa, WHOOO HOOOO!" In between runs we went to the biergarten across the street. Hufeisen Pilsner was a great find. This is probably the best pils we have had since Pilsen. Nice and hopppy, a beautiful nose, a very robust little pils. Good stuff. It evidently is brewed at the little pub down the street, so we went by to see if it was open. The flagship beer is Wagner Brau! Unfortunately the brewery was not open, so I can only guess what that is like (really pungent and served in a realllllllllly large glass).

**********

Dinner with Katie and Crystal as guests this evening. Zia made Cevapcici and salad, and I made potato pancakes. We had a nice evening talking, eating, and enjoying nice suds.

8/3/2008, Vilseck

2008-08-03T06:25:00.000-07:00

Z cleaned house today, and I took Jaden for another walk to keep her out of the way (and trying to create a habit that we hope she will stick with). In downtown Viseck we discovered that there is a folkfest going on here, too. So this afternoon, we all wandered down to catch the entertainment. Unfortunately, the bands don’t play until later. Seems the whole thing is a fundraiser for the local community band program. We did get a chance to enjoy the local suds from the brewery down the street, Winkler Bräu. A nice session lager, the nose has some floral notes, but is mostly malt. There is a nice balance of bittering hops with the sweetness of the malt, and a bitter-sweet kiss off in the back of your throat as it slides on by. Most enjoyable, especially by the Maβ!

7/31 - 8/2, Frankfurt am Main

2008-08-03T02:54:00.000-07:00

Z’s daughter, Kyra received a surgery date out of the blue during our vacation time together. The bad news is that cancels the trip to Munich (for this trip). The good news is that we will now be spending a little time in Frankfurt. Up early again (it pays to get an early start to beat the farm machinery onto the roads), and onto the Autobahn. Well I had to hurry, it’s a three hour drive and we had to be there by eight.

Frankfurt is a different kind of city than any of the others we have visited in Europe. The bridges are more modern, and there is a huge shopping district. They are more proud of their skyscrapers and world banking prowess (with good reason) than their history. That said, there are still a lot of spectacular old buildings and churches mixed in. The hospital is, unexpectedly, located a half a block from the Main and city central. From the glass elevator you can see St Bartholomeu’s, a spectacular old church where all of the emperors from the 1500’s to the 1700’s were crowned. My quick introductory walk across the river has shown the promising signs of a folk festival (the Main Festival) being set up. Needless to say, Jaden has already seen the rides.

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Kyra finally passed the breathing test on the third try (Hey! You can breathe!). The second test given to her was the “cleansing” medication. With no aroma, Kyra has described the taste variously as; “terrible,” “horrible,” “awful,” and “like ass, not that I have ever tasted it, but that’s what it taste like.” (Rubbing a finger through the remnants on the bottom of the bottle and tasting it, all I get is bitter lemons, for what it’s worth.) I guess the fun starts when she takes the four follow up pills in three hours.

In the meantime, elevated levels of gall were found in her blood tests. As she has already had her gall bladder removed, this points to kidney concerns, possibly kidney stones, and an MRI is ordered. If discovered, they will be removed endoscopicly this evening.

Jaden, after her early wake-up call this morning, has fallen blissfully asleep throughout all of this after appropriating her mom’s bed. Poor kid – at Grandpa’s mercy for the next five days.

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Kyra went in for surgery sometime around 12:30. I say “sometime” as Jaden and I had left for a walk by then. See, Kyra is in a German hospital. Things are a little different. Other than the occasional language problems, there are a host of other new experiences in store for you. No air conditioning, just one fan for the two people in the room. Pain meds are not given out much, they want you up and moving as soon as possible. And, most vexing for us, family care is not a strong point. We still had no idea when the surgery would be, what the results of the MRI were last night, or pretty much anything else – regardless of the fact that Z is fluent in every language spoken here. So around 12:00, Jaden, who was going bonkers by this point, and I went for a walk.

We traveled down to the shopping district. Our first stop was a little stein shop I had discovered the day before. Well off the beaten track and run by three sweet older ladies, this was the place for all your stein needs. The prices were great, and they had everything – including the new additions to my collection. A little farther down and we hit shopping central, a nice place to visit when you have a worried five-year old along with you, because that’s where you find the “Donald’s.” After a scrumptious repast at Mickey D’s, we wandered over to look at the C & A. Think J.C. Penney with one crucial difference. This place sells, and therefore has end of the season sales on, lederhosen and dirndls. A nice place to visit when you do the Oktoberfest and folk thing. After a little window shopping we moved along to Conrad, the big electronics store in Germany to get Kyra an adapter so she could plug her I-pod into the 220 outlets in the hospital, and then by Woolworth’s (yes, they still have them here) to get a needle and thread. Then back to check on Kyra.

Kyra, if I haven’t already explained this somewhere else, is in for a gastric bypass. I am not sure where the bypass part comes from, ‘cuz all they are doing is stapling her stomach – or perhaps hitting her with a bus, because she looks like hell when I get in to see her later that day. Although performed laparoscopicly, this is far from “minimally invasive” surgery. She really wants to get out of here, though, and is going after every exercise she has been given as hard as she can, even though it hurts pretty bad. I admire her strength and courage. We also assume that she is doing pretty OK, if the exchange over the oxygen tube in her nose is any indication (“Get the damn thing out of my nose, I can breathe better without it.”).

While Kyra was convalescing, Z was able to walk with us. We retraced out steps from earlier. At the C & A, she tried on several dirndls, but didn’t find anything that knocked her out. She did like a pair of lederhosen she made me try on, so I have another new set. (I’ll be the fashion plate of the Oktoberfest set!) And then we went to the Main Fest. Situated in the Römerberg, this is the most famous view in Frankfurt. Some very pretty buildings that house city government, and look like they have been here for years (but mostly exist since 2005 when the façade was restored), and provide a beautiful backdrop for a Volksfest. The Roemer (city hall) was mostly destroyed in bombing in WWII, and quickly restored after the war. It was rededicated in 1955. So, Jaden got her rides, Z got her Currywurst, and I got to try a new beer. Schöffelhofer Weiβe is a nice refreshing little wheat thing – not too aggressive with the natural yeasts, not too aggressive on the palate. Basically it is a not too aggressive, not too offensive, not too… well you get the idea. It was the perfect beer to enjoy with everything else going on. We were good, we only enjoyed a couple.

A quick check on Kyra and back to the hotel.

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Saturday, and the streets are a mess (more than usual). Every other street we need to use is closed for a large city rummage sale or the folk fest or construction. What should be a ten minute drive becomes something significantly longer.

My first order of business for the day is to buy Jaden a new pair of shoes. The shoes she has with her are too small and she has developed a fine set of scrapes on her toes. Back to the other end of the shopping district and – let the quest begin. The first challenge is to find a place that actually sells kids shoes. Several show stores later, and not even a shoe found – hey look, kids shoes! How much? I don’t care; I’ll take ‘em. Needless to say, the fifteen stores I walked into had shoes at way more realistic prices. They also had socks, so there was that, anyway.

New shoes on, and Jaden and I took a walk while Z spent some time with Kyra. She is really not doing well – is in some serious pain. Kyra, like her mom, has a pretty high pain tolerance (Z once removed a broken tooth ( wisdom tooth to be exact.. ) from her own mouth using nothing more than brute force and a Leatherman), so if she is complaining about pain, you know it has to be pretty bad. She is making herself keep at the exercises, though. Jaden and I ate lunch and took a roundabout way back to look at churches and skyscrapers. Z joined us and we took one last crack at the festival. Jaden got a last ride, Z and I enjoyed a last beer and listened to the very fine brass band (you could get the tunes up a little faster, though, fellas).

Due to the high price of hotel rooms and the low price of the dollar (thanks W!) we had to leave. Kyra will continue to recuperate, and we will come back to pick her up on Wednesday. Please keep her in your thoughts; the next few days won’t be easy for her.

A Beautiful Day In Frankfurt am Main

2008-08-02T14:12:00.000-07:00

Grandpa Dave, a beer, and a genuine imitation German central square (circa 1985-ish), complete with beer tent! The polka band is setting up to his right. Can it get any better than this? Sure. A hug from his favorite Grandaughter...

The Keckes Ladies

2008-08-02T13:37:00.000-07:00

The entire female side of the Keckes family, Vera on the left, Z, Kyra, and Jaden in her lap.

Vera and Kyra

7/29/2008, Pilsner Urquell (!)

2008-08-02T13:26:00.000-07:00

I generally agree with travel writer Chuck Thompson’s description of brewery tours (Wow! They brew beer in big vats! Who knew?). But today’s journey was less a brewery tour and more a pilgrimage. Today we go to visit the mighty Pilsner Urquell. I know that Pilsň is one of the great cites in Europe, and has a lot of stuff that would probably be really cool to see, but today we are just paying our respects to the beer.

So what are we talking about here? What makes this stuff so special? Indulge me for a moment while I rant. Pilsň was founded by King Wenceslas II (not that “good king” one) in 1295. He awarded the first patents to brew beer in the city. The reputation of that beer was – well, not so good. Cloudy, and pretty inconsistent tasting to be exact. So, after the city brewers cranked out a particularly undrinkable batch in 1838, the local citizens, taking matters in their own hands, grabbed the 36 or so barrels of the stuff and marched it to city hall, where it was unceremoniously dumped in the square. The town leaders, no dummies they, decided it would be a good time to build a new brewery and to hire the best and the brightest to put it together. Somewhere in Bavaria they unearthed the new Brewmaster, Josef Groll, a man so rude and bad-tempered that his own father called him the “coarsest man in all Bavaria.” He came in and changed the entire brewing process. The beer was now brewed using a triple decoction method of extracting the sugar from the grain (ask me sometime, I’ll explain it). The special yeast was smuggled out of a nearby abbey as payment of a debt. The beer was then cold lagered in hand carved caves for five weeks. The result was consistent in flavor and beautifully clear brown in color. And so pilsner style beer was born. The name “Pilsner Urquell,” in case you were curious, means “from the original source, Pilsň” in German.

We met our “Tour Dude” at the Visitors Centre (English spelling, you know), decked out in his Urquell T-Shirt (Urquell was bought out by SAB Miller several years ago. Of course they have shirts – and hats and glassware and cards and…), casual slacks, tevos, a slender build and a three day growth that seems to be de rigueur these days. Z promptly dubs him “the good looking one,” as in “at least we got the…”

Tour Dude took us upstairs to watch a film, and then to the bottling plant (state of the art). We discovered there that Bob and Doug (Strange Brew, beauty, eh?) would be out of a job because they watch for mice – and broken or imperfect bottles on the line by computer and robotics now. From there to another film, in 360° whelm-O-vision this time, and then to… see that beer is made in big vats, I know, I know…

But, my friends, that is not, of course why we are here. Oh no. Our Tour Dude now takes us to the ancient, hand carved cellars, where it all began. This is also where, to this very day, test batches of Urquell are still brewed using the original methods according to the original recipe, to be used for comparison for quality control with the commercial suds. (Note: according to their web site and Tour Dude, no taster has ever to this day been able to tell the difference.) They still use open vats and everything. And they share! Unfiltered, unpasteurized, pure Urquell, just the way they drank it in 1838-ish (minus three of the five strains of yeast, about which more in a bit). This is the only place in the world where you can get the stuff. And they are handing a sample – to me! It doesn’t get any better than this!

What does it taste like? Oh, my friends… This stuff could make the blind see and the lame walk. Given to the right people this stuff would be the cause of world peace. It is the true fountain of youth! Duck Dunn wasn’t referring to “the Band” but to Urquell when he said, “this stuff is powerful enough to turn goat piss into gasoline.” Sorry. The aroma is like beautiful flowers on a sunny spring day. The flowery hops join with the caramel-ly sweet malt and do a little dance of joy down your tongue, leaving you with a surprisingly huge wallop of hops, a really big grin, and a quest for more. It is, as expected, a huge hop-head beer – bigger than you can possibly imagine. You’ve had the stuff they sell in stores (and if you haven’t, are you crazy?). This is that stuff on steroids. Lots of them!

Look, don’t take my word for it. Michael Jackson (the beer god, not the “king of pop”) calls it one of the true world class beers (but not as complex as it used to be when there were a complete five strains of yeast in the recipe – I told you I would get back to that). The Beverage Tasting Institute (the industry group that hires independent adjudicators to rate their drinks, mostly wine) gave Urquell 93 out of a possible 100 points. This is the highest score ever given to any pilsner rated. Amazing, remarkable stuff.

Go if you can – it’s worth the trip. And I’ll tell that to your Great-Great-Grandchildren.

Grandpa Dave and Jaden at Pilsner Urquell!!!!

2008-07-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Grandpa Dave and grandaughter Jaden at Pilsner Urquell. Grandpa Dave enjoyed one of the best beers in his life. Jaden settled for Coke. Note the large vats behind them for creating beer! More in the next post...

Pilsner Urquell Pictures I

2008-07-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

Pictures from the inside of the visitors center at the mighty Pilsner Urquell...

7/29/2008, Nurenberg

2008-07-29T02:20:00.001-07:00

We had a bit of a chaotic start to our day. Several of Z’s models, and their children, bunked over. In addition, she is having her kitchen updated by the house owner/military folks. And the dog has been stung by a bee. And… well, you get the idea. Around 4 in the afternoon things had settled down enough that Keyra, having left Jaden with a sitter, Z and I could sneak out for a trip to Nürnberg.

We traveled by train. I have to say that if you are visiting Bavaria, you must do this at least once. First, you understand maybe one word in a hundred being spoken by the announcer dude. Second, they like to change the schedules – unannounced. So it is a nice, stress-free way to get from one place to another. Ahh, but once you get on the train…you cannot possibly imagine how beautiful the Bavarian countryside is. A pretty forest with picturesque little hamlets, it was a most enjoyable trip – except for the train station stuff.

As it was hotter than blue blazes outside, our first task in Nürnberg was to find something to drink. Good thing Starbucks was nearby. Nothing like a refreshing ice tea on a hot day, is there? And so many choices wow! This place just totally rocked. (Yes, I own Starbucks stock.)

Most tourist guides love to rant on cities like Nürnberg, that were destroyed in the war and then rebuilt, that you can hardly tell the difference between the old buildings and the restored ones. You can tell. It’s really not very hard. Really. But the restoration, Disneyland version doesn’t distract from the real old-timey classic buildings. Just kind of, well, puts them in context.

There are some beautiful old churches here, with an amazing amount of detail on the buildings. The artists involved in building these things were pretty amazing, and I do mean artists. Each church is a work of art. Many people say that they reach a point in Europe where you don’t see the churches and old buildings anymore, after all, there is one on every corner, isn’t there? To those people, you need to get more caught up in the details. Stop and look at the sculpture and detail in these buildings. It is amazing.

A little shopping for us in the middle of sightseeing, but not too much as the stores were beginning to close. So we stopped for dinner. We ate at the Barfüβer pub in the center square. Of course it is a brew pub, do you need to ask?

Barfüβer Blonde. Brewed in house in Nürnberg. Alcohol not available, but probably in the 5% range. A beautiful sea of white foam floats atop a cloudy brown brew. Hints of the hops in the nose, but you have to look for them. Not an in-your-face helles, but an acceptable balance of the caramel malt and the floral hops. Just not very big. Nice chewy texture and a hint of hops at the end. Like Oregon, there are really no bad beers here (yet!), there are just some that are better than others. This is a middle of the packer.

Home by train and to bed. Tomorrow we go to mecca!

7/27/2008, Vilseck, Rothenberg ob de Tauber

2008-07-27T01:41:00.000-07:00

So last night I took my evening "constitutional" around town. Vilseck is really a very beautiful and quaint village, nice old German buildings, a beautiful, onion-domed, church, very nice and friendly folks decked out in traditional lederhosen and dirndls – no really, beautiful, quaint, old, church, and lederhosen and dirndls, I think there was a wine festival going on downtown. They were all very nice, though. I felt right at home.

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Today we went to Rothenburg ob der Tauber. About an hour from here by car, Rothenburg is the German Disneyland (and I mean that in the best aspects of the word). If you were to imaging the typical German village that you see at Oktoberfests and in movies and things like that, Rothenburg is your place. Of course it comes with the huge crowd of tourist to match.

We started by hunting down a place to eat. The nice café had wonderful food on the central square, straight from central casting. Amazing views and good food – give me a break. Oh, yes – and it’s also a brewery. Can you believe it? So the house Kellerbier is a nice, pretty golden brown color, with a sudsy ring of foam winking at you from the top. Nice balance of hops to malt without blowing you out of the water, and a little tang of the hops on the back of your tongue. A wonderful little session beer.

Walking around after lunch it is a little hard to believe this place. You see another one of those places that defies description without using that trite, overused travel vocabulary. And that’s OK. It was swell. We went to Käthe Wohlfart Christmas store and ogled ornaments. We looked at great old buildings, with every new square a new panorama of amazing views. There are the cute building signs. The half-timbered construction on walls. The amazing churches. The fortress walls. It was all so cool and all so tritely tourist. I loved every minute of it.

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Z is putting her college degree to use tonight and taking some pictures of Keyra’s college friends. It should be an entertaining end to a wonderful day.

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On a more serious note, I am sad to note the passing of one of my biggest fans, Florence Gross. Pat Zollner’s mom (of polka band fame), Florence always told me that I was her favorite trumpet player. It was always a joy to see her face in the audience at Mt. Angel, and I will miss her this year, and every year.

7/26/2008, Keszthely to Vilseck

2008-07-26T05:59:00.000-07:00

Up at 6:00 this morning and a quick breakfast, and then a tearful goodbye to Vera. We then hit the road to Vilseck.

Peter started the driving chores. He and Z had a spirited conversation, leaving me to amuse myself with the "pronouncing Hungarian town names" game, followed by the "composing new tunes" game, followed by the "whistling every tune I know" game, followed by - well you get the idea.

Peter took us on short cut that led through the famous Vienna Wood. It is beautuful country - it will remind you a lot of the Oregon Coast in the trees and landscape. The architecture is that Disneyland version of German buildings. It was a very storybook and quaint.

We hit the autobahn again and started heading across Austria. At the first rest area Peter and I swapped places. Insert big grin here. As you recall, there is a speed limit in Austria - of 90 miles per hour. So that was fun. But I was ready for the show.

We stopped for gas just before crossing the border into Germany. From then on, all bets were off. My top was 125 mph, but I was averaging 100 to 115. It is a lot of fun. But you completely don"t get how much attention it takes until you are doing it. You still have the kamikazi Mercedies and Beamers, there are people wanting to dart in front of you going alot slower than you are going, and that speed limit thing only applies where there isn't a town. All that said, I would dearly love to have one of these between Eugene and the 'Couve.

We made it to Keyra's and had another tearful goodbye with Peter. The plans for the next few days are very up in the air, due to Keyra's upcomming surgery. Seeing as we are in the land of beer, likely some good suds will be inhaled. More about that by and by.

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Some last Hungarian odds and ends from my journal:

* You can't have a "John Q Public" in Hungary - 'cuz they don't have a "Q."
* I can't type worth a damn anymore, 'cuz I'm used to Vera's Hungarian keyboard now.
* Hungarians have a real problem with the whole "seafood thing." Some examples from the English translation of menus;
1) Fishy Fish (some kind of ocean going thing)
2) Fruits of the Sea (some kind of shell fish)
3) Sea Bass in a Sip of Beer (Beer batter?)
4) Chittlens with Trotters (???)
5) Fried Carp with Pomes Frittes and Mayo
* Then there is the usual Hungarian wods of interest;
1) Herentyűket, a what-cha-ma-call-iy
2) Keszlet Erejéig, while available
3) Folttisztításban, what you ask for when you need spot remover
4) Halrudak & Hasábburgonya, fish and chips anyone?

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So, here we are, back in Bavaria. More tales to come...

7/24/2008, Keszthely

2008-07-24T02:21:00.000-07:00

Lest you think we are basking in the glow of a loving sun sucking back swell suds everyday, yesterday we got to experience "viharos szél" accross the lake (that's "stormy winds" for those of you not in focus winds). The winds got up to 100 kph (around 60 mph), the rain came down sideways, quite a day. Vera ammused herself by making one of my favorite Hungarian foods, these little savory biscuit thigs that are really swell. You can eat them by the hundreds, and we did. Somewhere in the middle of this she advised me, "you. drink. beer." And so I did. Maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.

×××××××××××××

After watching the trees blow sideways for a while and my mom saying gee i bet the lake is really wavey , i asked Dave if he wanted to come on a walk with me.. ( he walks miles and miles every day , me not so much) he was game , we put on our rain jackets and grabbed the camera and off we went... all was well till we walked out to the pier .. there the wind nearly knocked me over as I tried to pose for the obligatory picture ... Dave got to pose as well... hardly a soul was out and about and those that were gave us funny looks .. Stupid tourists .. if they only knew.
Z

7/20/2008, Opusztaszer, Kecskemét, and Budapest

2008-07-20T06:03:00.000-07:00

Friday:

Breakfast is earlier than our usual 8:00 start time so we can hit the road and beat the traffic. More of Vera's fab poppy seed and apple muffins. (There isn't a chance in hell of my passing a drug test at the moment.) That said, we still managed to take until about 8:30 to get moving. The best laid plans...

With Uncle Dave again at the wheel of the mighty Opel, we hit a few back roads and then made it to Hungary's version of the Autobahn. Whoo Hooo! I still don't get to do the whole experience until we go to Keyra's in Germany next week, but I did enjoy my 140 kph commute. All Autobahns in Hungary lead to Budapest, so we traveled to the city burbs and then caught another road south into the Puszta.

Our agenda today includes traveling to the Hungary National Historic Park in Opusztaszer (that's Oh-pooz-tah-sir if you are Hungarian, or Opus-Tazer if you are a smart alec tourist from the US). All kids of big historical things are rumored to have happened at this site, and excavations are underway to unearth remnants. Because the rumors of all this history have existed in Hungarian writing for years, in 1886, on the anniversary of the founding of the current state, a large monument was built here. This is our first stop in the park.

The monument is a large marble structure with a large staircase. In a circle, arranged in front of the structure are busts of the important folks in Hungarian history. First up is Árpád, leader of the armies that settled this area in the 800's or so. Following him are the "Seven Heros," the leaders of each of the tribes that followed Árpád. Peter claims that they are misnamed. He feels they should be called the "Seven Morons." His argument: "had they just traveled another 500 kilometers west, things would have been a lot different." Hard to argue with that. The Hero's are followed by other kings and leaders, many of which we will meet farther down the post.

The real reason for our trip to this place is to visit the Panarama. This painting was finished in 1894. It is housed in a huge circular building to house the 15 meter highth and 120 meter length. The subject of the painting is the Hungarian Tribes arriving in the Carpathian Basin. The entrance leads you to start at the back of the painting. Árpád and the Seven Heros sit at the top of a hillside. To his right, in the center of the back, his bride arrives in a wagon drawn by four large oxen. Moving around to the right you see women being carried off and riders in the valley looking for a place to camp. At the front of the painting a Taltos, or Shaman is preparing to sacrifice a white horse while women dance about the fire throwing in magic grasses. Continuing around the right are the Hungarian hords, leading you back to Árpád. There is a sound scape that follows you as you move around, bring the painting to life in sound. You find yourself walking around again and again. Every cycle leads to new discoveries of details that you missed the first time. The best place to dig this piece from, though, is in the exact center. As you turn, the motion moves past you. It is as if someone froze a moment in time and allowed you to stand in the middle of it and observe it. Trés cool! Our half hour in the room ended way too soon.

Shooed out the door, we visited the museum that surrounds the panorama building. Statues, period art work, 19th century period clothing, and a nice retrospective on the creation of the park and museum give a nice perspective of the history of the site and Hungary in general.

We left the building and rented a golf cart to tour the grounds, to spare Peter's legs; a necessity he insisted he did not need. We worked our way around the park, visiting a working windmill, several houses from differing periods in Hungary that were carefuly torn down and reassembled here, and a Timber Industry display, carefuly hidden as several traditional Yurts. What is it about these timber industy guys and their monuments to themselves. I guess the best PR is the stuff you create yourself.

Back to the car and back up the Autobahn to Kecskemét. We are guesting with Kazi-Basci and Zsusza-Neni. If you haven't met them yet, I invite you to refer back to the earlier Kecskemét entry.

We were greeted with enthusiasm by this fun loving couple - and shots of Metaxa, followed by shots of paint thinner... I mean Palincka, and then settling into beer. Kis-Kazi and Gabor arrived shortly after we did, and the merriment commenced. My notes are not real legible for some reason this evening. I can tell you that most of the amusement of the evening was caused by reading the Lonely Planet Hungarian Prasebook. The locals find English really silly, and it seems whom ever put together the phrase book did not exactly make the best choices in translation. In between we argued about the American presidential election, Hungarian food and fashion, and generally had a good time.

A Holstein beer, quickly purchased by Gabor before he left to attend a concert with friends and then opened by Kis-Kazi and placed infront of me were my last thought of the evening. Off to bed at Gabor's.

Saturday:

Z and I were up early (7:00, I know, but we're on vacation) and ready to face the world. Only one problem, we were locked into Fortress Gabor, and, based on the fact that I heard the shower running around 5:00 a.m., we were probably not going to be seeing him for a little bit. Z and I hung out on his back deck until we were able to roust him and get him to unlock the front gate so we could head over to Kazi and Zsuzsa's for breakfast. He told us to let his folks know he was "just beautifying himself," and he would be right over.

We found our way back and sat down for the traditional Hungarian breakfast of cold cuts and cheeses, peppers and tomatoes with coffee while recliening on the deck. The best part of a visit to Hungary is the amount of time you spend hanging out on the deck chatting and eating. Good thing, too. We finally saw Gabor about an hour later. In the meantime I perused the brochure for the local Kodaly Music Festival. Seems we had just missed by to days the production of Sound of Music in Hungarian (in case you were wondering, it's A Muzsika Hangja. Don't ask me how Lonely Goatherd goes, it wasn't in the brochure.)

Gabor eventually pulled himself together, and we were off to the races. Vera and Peter traveled with Kazi and Zsuzsa and Z and I traveled with Gabor in his Skoda. Guess what? They don't run on coal anymore. Gabor didn't get a ticket all day. Could have suprised me - that thing is fast! The idea was that Gabor, who really speaks pretty good English (contrary to his belief) would be my tour guide. This was a job he filled with his aplomb. "This is the Shell Station." He was quick to point out the "rest area" and the "football stadium" (that's soccer, folks). Stopped by a traffic light by a topless bar, he made sure we understood that it was a bar that held "cultural folk dance expositions."

Our tour began at the top of Gellért Hill at the site of the old prison. Standing at the edge of the view point and looking down on the Danube and buildings the difference between world class cities and, oh, say Portland, or the 'Couve are that world class cities are willing to drop some cash on art and architecture. It trite to talk about "breathtaking views" and "stunningly beautiful buildings" and all, but views this beautiful leave you that speachless. The epic views of the Danube winding through the castles and churches - each view grander and more splendorous than the last - I can't find the words to descibe it, but I will be happy for the rest of my days that I was allowed to see it.

The top of the hill has the famous Freedom Monument. This huge statue was carved by the father of one of Peter's neighbors. Her mother, as she reminds Peter five or six times a week, was the model. As I gather it, Peter is a little less than impressed. The statue is very impressive and can be seen pretty much everywhere in the city. Along either side, placed at "common man" level are two Soviet era "common man" statues. This is assuming that the common man in the statues lives in the gym 6 hours every day (come on, don't you do that?). Not quite so impressive.

From here we traveled to the Buda end of the famous Chain Bridge (Budapest is devided into three parts. Buda and Óbuda on the west band and Pest on the East). The Chain Bridge was the first bridge accross the Danube in Budapest, and was partially responsible for the unification of the two banks into one berg. The bridge was closed to automobile traffic today for a tourist market. Kazi, our head tour guide today, does not let us waste any time (or money), however, and flogs us ahead.

Near where we have parked the car is the "0 Killometer" monument. Budapest is the center of the hub of all Autobahns in Hungary. This point, theoretically, is the beginning of all of these roads, and the millage is measured accordingly. In other words, this is the center of the Hungarian Universe. Oooo.

From this point we took the funicular up to the top of Castle Hill. Our tour started with a quick walk around the "Palace" (now a museum) looking at the spectacular art, primarily statues of historical figures. In the back there was an amazing iron sculpture of a crow sitting on a gate, with a huge amount of detail. The artist was a genius. As we wandered down the street, Kazi pointed out a heavily scarred wall. It is a left over "monument" to the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. If you look closely, you can see the bullet holes. Lots of them.

This day immersed in Hungarian history was interesting as much for what was shown as for what was not. The early history is everywhere, and Hungarians are particularly proud of their early past. Almost every house has some form of historical relic from this period on the walls or the bookshelves. You will see discussions of WWI, but mostly to bring up the injustuce of the reduction of "big" Hungary to the current borders, and their territory was "taken away" or "stolen" from them. I saw one public picture all day then even acknowledged that WWII ever existed in their country. The 1956 Revoulution is proudly displayed many places, other modern history, not so much. Like most places, Hungarians want to spin their history to show themselves in the best light (no suprise there).

Back down the funicular and a quick trip across to the Pest side of the river to see the Millenium Monument (that was the 1800's one, youngster). This monument sits in the middle of an open square of about 16 blocks in the middle of the Pest side of the river. Placed carefully towards the back, so that you can appreciate the scale of this large open space in the middle of the city (could this happen in america? Not a chance in hell...) is a large statue of Árád and the Seven Morons. Again, as in the other art we have seen today, the scale and attention to detail are overwhelming. Again, a trite description. But words fail me in the presence of art that is that in your face. Wow! Behind the Morons are statues of the great Hungarian kings and political figures. I guess you have to check in here to see if you did OK as a ruler.

From the monument we traveled high up and over the Buda hills to the communty of Visegrad, where the first order of buisness is lunch - at the Seagull Restaraunt (more likely Rivergulls). A killer salad bar of Hungarian traditional salads and an entre of fried cheese and steamed veggies for the vegetarian (believe it or not, that is a traditional dish in Hungary). Z had veal paprikas. The consensus was that the food was first rate - highly recommended.

Down the street in Visegrad is the King Mathias Museum and Castle Restoration. This is an old Gothic period castle, that Mathias remodeled in the early Renaissance period, so you have an opportunity to view artifacts of both periods. The ceramic stoves being restored here are pretty amazing.

We traveled up the hill from here intending to visit the upper fortress, but were running out of gas. Instead we went to a nearby hotel with a restaraunt overlooking the Danube Bend. The view from here is truely stunning (and the views by the pool below us were pretty stunning, too!). We has an iced coffee and enjoyed the view. One of my dreams is to someday sit in a café in central Vienna and commune with the great mids of our day by reading a paper and enjoying a kaffee mit schlag. Until that day comes, this was pretty darn close.

I have mentioned in these pages before the truck and bus drivers in this neck of the woods. The next level of hell lower from these psychopaths are motorcycle riders. On the trip down the twisty road from Visegrad, we had one of this "brain trust" attempting to pass us. As we were on a twisty road, he couldn't see far enough ahead to be sure he could pass. So for about three corners this rocket scientist rode his bike right next to the front bumper of the car. Had a car come from the other direction he would have been toast. On the plus side, we would have improved the gene pool.

I am eternally greatful to Peter, Vera, Kazi, Zsuzsa, and Gabor for taking the gift of sharing their history and culture with me. The heartfelt connections that they feel for these symbols and their connections to recent events speak to me in a way that no history book or tour ever could. Thank you to you all!

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Dinner this evening is again at Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni's house. Our mighty band is joined by Kis-Kazi, his wife Zsuzsa and daughter Claudia. Claudia is wearing a beautiful folk costume this evening, given to her by and uncle who picked it up in Transylvania. Converstion this evening is spirited - and in Hungarian - leaving me with a lot of time to reflect and write in my journal. Zsuzsa shared some pictures of her trip to France and to Corsica with me. Gabor and Kis-Kazi have been using their English to give me a good natured ribbing. A favor that is soon shared by Gabor, as his mother and father, along with Peter and Vera, start singing Hungarian folk songs. Turns out they are all songs about marriage. There is nothing quite as swell as hanging out on the deck with a beer and trading songs and stories with family.

7/17/2008, Sűmeg and Tihany

2008-07-17T11:36:00.000-07:00

In an effort to get us out of the way of the cleaning lady today, Peter and Vera gave us the car and told us to get lost. So once again, with me at the wheel of the trusty Opel, we were off to see the world.

We started by finally making it to Sümeg, a pretty complete ruin of a 1300's castle/fortress. During the Turkish invasion this was the last castle standing, and protected the sacred Hungarian Crown. The tour involves a hike up a pretty steep hill, and then forking over 3000 forint for the two of us. Fortunately, we arrived just in time to catch the 11:00 showing of the Renaissance hoot-fest. Z assures me that good history is presented here by the mostly high school aged troop. They spend the year training and learning the history so they can perform it in the summers and make a little cash. I'll buy that it is probably pretty authentic history. That said, without the benifit of being able to understand the commentary, here is the show. A bunch of guys throw axes and shoot arrows. Some ladies dance around in Elizabethan and belly dancing costumes - some of them even holding real snakes! There was the obligatory audience participation hummiliation thing, and there was a bored teen aged high school "Queen" (like I don't get enough of that at work every day). Huzzah!

(A brief aside: the last time we saw ladies dancing with snakes was last week when we took Jaden to the circus. Z translated the MC's introduction for us, and we knew we were in for something special. "And now! Two ladies - dancing with a snake and an alligator!" The two ladies appeared, tastefully garbed in traditional belly dance costume - followed by a gentleman carrying a large snake and another gentleman carrying a small and very angry alligator. The ladies began their dance, and the gentlemen set their animal burdens down on the floor - as far as possible away from where the ladies were dancing. By the book, two ladies, dancing with a snake and an alligator.)

We spent a little time wandering about the castle and a bit more time reflecting in the very pretty period era chapel, and then moved on. The whole thing here is just a little to tourist-y. If you do this kind of thing, go see the McCoy in Szigliget without all the hootiness.

From there we traveled back to Tihany. I won't bore you with another description of this beautiful place. Suffice it to say, it was well worth another visit.

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We are traveling to Kecskemét tomorrow to see Kazi-basci and Zsusza-nene and family. Rumor has it, we may even be traveling to see the jewel in the crown its self, Budapest. Should that happen, you'll find it here first.

7/16/2öö8, Keszthely, Kis-Balaton

2008-07-16T00:02:00.000-07:00

A planned trip to Sűmeg was cancelled on acount of rain, and so Peter took us on a car tour around the vicinity of Kis-Balaton. Kis-Balaton (Kish-Balaton, or Little Balaton) is a wet land, and a protected wildlife refuge. It works as a cleaning system for the Zala River, filtering out the icky stuff before the water moves on to the big lake.

Our journey began, as usual, when leaving Keszthely in this direction, with a long pause at the round-a-bout at the edge of town. Peter pointed out a large open field and told us that they had found the remains of a largish Roman city in that field. They carefuly undug the entire city, listed and catelogued everything, and then buried it up again. They do that a lot here. I am glad someone is keeping record of what's there though.

From there to Sámelléck to buy gas. Sámelléck is where the comercial airport is located. It started life as a Soviet era Nuclear Missile site. Little by little it is being cleaned up and expended so that, at some point, large regional flights will be able to come here. Recycling at it's best. And if you are in a hurry, they can fly you out on a rocket!

Kis-Balaton is pretty and peaceful and possibly poisonous (not really - but it sounded good). Peter took us to a couple of places around the lake. The first, at first glance, is a really large stack of fire wood. As you get closer you find that, while, yes, it is fire wood, it is also a shelter that can be used as a bird blind. It seems some Swiss Boy Scouts got creative several years ago and started stacking their firewood to make this structure. It is completely sound, and does not have a nail in it. Pretty cool. The other spot was the ruin of an old church. This is (theoretically) the spot where Method and Ciril got together and knocked out all the differences between the Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholics back in the 800's or so. They also did some other cool stuff regarding teaching (anyone ever use a teaching method?) and things like that. There was a small chapel near by that we managed to sneak into before they closed. There was some amazing artwork and some columns dating back to at least the 1200's (sorry, my Hungarian is not that good).

We returned home for some German hazing from my in-laws. Peter and I "enjoyed" a refreshing Underberg. You can find this stuff at German markets in the States. It is supposed to help your health and digestion and all those other claims they make when they are trying to convince you that something you are not going to enjoy is really good for you. Well, suprise, it's not too bad. Lots of cloves and other herby things. I wouldn't go out of my way to get it, but it wasn't too bad.

For our beer drinking friends, here are a couple of more selections:

Paulaner Hefeweißbeir, Paulaner Brauerei (http://www.paulaner.de/), 5.5% by volume. Light cloudy brown color with a thick, cloudy white head. The nose is bananas and bubble gum (really). Nice effervecent bubbly taste, with lots of malt and yeast (that1s the bananas you were smelling) with just a hint of hops blending everything together, and then hanging around on the back of your throat. A world class Hef. Accept no substitutes - like the Widmer one you get down the street. They aren't the same. Really.

And less you think we are doing nothing but sitting around drinking world class suds, may I offer:

Zlatý Bažant (quickly dubbed "Slarty Barfast" by the Hitchikers Guide fan), brewed by contract by the Heinecken Brewery, but really a Slovokian beer, 5.0% by volume. Color is right for a pils, but the head dissapears quickly. I get a little hops in the aroma, but not much. There are malt and hops in the flavor profile, but they are not going broke on the ingredients. Think of it as water with a little bit of flavoring added for fun. Not our best beer here. Not even close.

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On a more serious note. We just found out that the National Guard unit that Z's son, Nico is assigned to has been called up for assignment to Iraq. Please keep him (as well as all the other men and women in the millitary) in your thoughts and prayers as he reports for this duty.

7/14/2öö8, Keszthely, Gyenasdias, Hevís

2008-07-14T12:07:00.001-07:00

It's been either really hot or very stormy the last few days. As it's just the four of us now, we are staying pretty close to home.

Saturday evening found us at the Bor-fest in Gyenasdias (otherwise known to the Cynics amongst us as Buenos Dias). Peter has been dealing with some medical issuses, so most of these trips are Vera, Z and I. There is a traveling winefest (wine is bor in Hungarian) that visits most of the communities on the north side of the lake during the summer (the wine region of Hungary). This is one of the first for the year. A wine fest is a flock of people around these really cool wooden trailer/booth things that the local wine makers use to hock their product. There are several food vendors selling traditional fare, and a central stage with live music. When we arrived the music onstage was a very hip marimba ensemble (three percussionists, bass and drums), that really enjoyed playing tunes in 7. They were followed by the community concert band playing traditional march favorites on equiptment that would draw howles of protest from the folks that play in my bands. The last group of the evening (that we caught anyway) was a Hungarian-Folk-Metal-Hair-Band (really- the locks were quite impressive). If you have been indoctrinated, think the Hungarian Höven Dröven. Fun stuff! We feasted on Longos and kürtöskalacs and dug the tunes-and the wines. The highlight was a rare wine made from a "blue armed grape" - literally a grape with a blue stem. Evidently this is quite rare, and only a few bottles are made a year to be sold at festivals like this. A white wine with a smooth, buttery flavor. It was very nice and trés drinkable (sorry folks, I'm a beer guy - as this blog should be making clear by now. You want good wine descriptions, talk to my brother-in-law, Jerry).

Sunday evening we went into Hevís for a festival that wasn't there (guess we were looking at last year's program. We enjoyed a walk around the radioactive lake, and then did a little shopping in the shops still open on Sunday evening. We followed this by taking a train ride around the city (Hevís has one of those tourist trains that it uses as a bus line). Vera commented that she would probably end up seeing sections of Hevís she had never seen before, and likely she was right. This thing went everywhere. Some great views and some stunning architecture. It was a nice way to become familiar with the area. We finished with a beer at the local ettrem, and then a gelatto, and then home. Who needs a festival?

Monday brought a huge storm - thunder, lightning, rain - the works. I left for my morning walk under ominous skys, made it to the lake, and then caught the down pour. It was raining so hard I couldn't see three feet infront of me. I made my way back home, and the rain gradually died down, so that it had mostly stopped by the time I reached the front door. "What the heck," I thought and headed back out, only to have the rain start to pick up again. Defeated, I gave up, went back in a crawled back into bed.

Z and I went shopping in the afternoon. We took the Chineese walk. There are several Chineese markets in town that sell quality clothing at bargain prices - some of which are carrying labels you may have heard of before - assuming you don't look too closely. Z was looking for shoes, but ended up buying underwear. I guess it was a productive trip. I'm not quite sure how to tell anymore.

7/12/2öö8, Lenti and Hevís

2008-07-12T09:53:00.000-07:00

In the persuit of newer and greater swiming experiences, we traveled to Lenti, on the Slovenian boarder yesterday. An early start found us finally on our way around 9:3ö (hey, I have a grandaughter, that's pretty early).

A car journey through Hungary is always an adventure. For example, as we crossed the border into Hungary from Austria several days ago, we passed through the community of Chernelházadamonya. The name was bigger than the town. Hungary is full of bergs with colorful names. Consider these: Ukk, Bűk, Und, Pápa, Kup, Ják, Old, Matty, and of course the unforgettable Nyugotszenterzsébet. I usually amuse myself on longer car journeies by practicing my phonetic reading - to the amusement and or annoyance of the Hungarians in the car. Therefore the community of Cécé is pronounced by them as "Seh - Seh." Of course anyone can see that it is really "Kee - Kee." The above mentioned "Ukk" is really pronounced "Ook." You thought it was Ukk, too, didn't you?

Lenti is located in one of the oldest regions of Hungary. Vera told us that the communities are so old that they voted recently to keep the community names that have existed since the 12öö's for historical reasons. New communities in the region will often append a "Zala-" in the front of their name so they can be part of the group. This also explains many of the longer names on this side of the country.

The swimming emporeum is pretty cool. Two indoor swimming pools and five outdoor pools await our swimming pleasure. A kiddie pool (Jaden says to me, "I like kitties." I think I am creating a monster...), an intermediate pool, a lap pool, and a "fun" pool, with the little chanel with the current, the big slide (they cost money here), and all the other bells and whistles. The remaining pools are all health pools. The water park, it seems, is located in a "Hungarian vortex," where "scentific studies" have shown that "magnetic forces" are in a "special alignment" that provides many "health benefits." They have a little path that you can wander that takes you to all the hot spots to get the most bang for your buck. Or something.

As usual, Jaden jumped right in, with the adults taking turns watching her, soaking up some rays or suds, enjoying the eye candy, or reading. Jaden swam for 6 hours and was asleep in the car within five minutes of leaving the parking lot.

Dinner was in Hevís at a wine cellar up on the hill. It is eveidently on a site where several old Roman ruins were discovered. The building is beautiful, the food fabulous, the wine devine, and the mosquitoes think enough to carry you away. We made a hasty retreat.

1/1ö/2öö8, Keszthely

2008-07-10T09:49:00.000-07:00

The last few days have involved hanging around beautiful Keszthely and the environs. I have started my morning power walks again and getting some practice time in on the deck in the speedo (yes, you are required to have a speedo in Europe. I know, deal with it.). Zia went down to her genuis hair cutter person this morning and got her hair colored and cut. I am hoping that we will be able to get a picture off of Kyra's digital camera later to post.

Peter took Z and I to Szigliget on Tuesday. On the hill above the town are the ruins of a castle/fortress that have existied since the early 12öö's. Peter is still having some difficulties with his diabetes, and was not able to make the climb with us. From the top there are some awsome views of Balaton and the surrounding vineyards. (Longtime readers will remember that this region of Hungary is the wine belt, much as the Willamette Valley is in Oregon.) An enjoyable afternoon.

The rest of our time is spent loafing by the lake, working on our sunburns. Jaden has turned part fish, and is learning to swim a little better every day. Today we opted to loaf by the pool. The pool is shaped to look just like the lake, with the deep end on the Keszthely side. The pool bullies worked on Jaden a little bit, but, due to the language, she had no idea. Grandma had a few words for them, though.

Peter, Vera, Z and I are to travel to Budapest some time in the next week or so on a bus tour. More on that when ( and if, you know) that happens.

7\8\ö8 Vilseck to Keszthely

2008-07-08T00:29:00.000-07:00

So no promises on this entry. I am typing today on Vera´s keyboard which is in Hungarian. It has about a million more keys than I am used to, the "Z" and "Y" key have been switched, and most of the punctuation marks don´t work - as you can see from the title of this post.

Sunday, and the trip from Vilseck to Keszthely...

Kyra drove the first section of the trip, and I took over just before the Austrian border. What fun! The autobahn is pretty cool. Before we crossed the border into Austria I touched on 11ö a couple of times. Austria has a speed limit, so I had to content myself with crusing along at 13ö KMH (that between 85 and 9ö MPH for you slowpokes at home!).

The autobahn system is set up so that you don't travel into any towns, just skirt the edges. As a result you get to see a lot of wooded hillsides and, over in the distance, many little quaint villages, huge castles, towering chuch towers, etc. Since you don't get to see any of them up close and personal, you have a lot of time to sit and question. I drove through three countries in a day. Why three countries? Germany and Austria share a language, the architecture is similar in all three countries, the social customs are similar. What makes it all so different? Which leads on to introspection about culture. I am fortunate enough to get to play in a band with several great friends who perform the folk music of Germany. Why Germany? What draws people to hear the folk music of a culture that is not their own? What is folk music? Dang it, I almost missed that turn.

We reached Peter and Vera's in the late afternoon, just in time for dinner. First the obligatory palinka - no make that two. Apricot, and very good stuff too. And then dinner - chicken parprikas for the carnivores, and "chicken" paprikas with tofu for the vegetarian. Vera has been playing around with tofu and should publish a cookbook. She is doing some amazing things with the stuff.

After a couple of glasses of Peter's remarkably tasty home grown wine, we wandered down to listen two a couple of tunes from the band playing downtown. Classic garage band, bass player working hard at being serious, rhythm guitarist that is just a little too old and a little too bald to pull off the low guitar, preening for the ladies at the edge of the stage thing, lead guitarist that has the look but not quite the licks, drummer that was pretty OK, female lead vocalist dressed in the current hip fassion and placed front stage to be the center of attention. And - and this is what made it for me - the keyboard player who is a dead ringer for Steve Martin, look manerisms and everything. I was rolling the whole time. We finally gave up, grabed a gelatto and headed home for bed.

Monday.

A nice relaxing day by the lake. You pay 8öö forint and that gives you the run of the place for the day. Get there early enough and you can even have on of those cool deck chair things. We all relaxed in the sun, taking turns getting in to swim with Jaden, who stays in the water pretty much all day. I remember when I used to be able to do that. I spent my time not swiming reading the work at the center for the arts school next year (yes, I did do some work this summer!). It's called "The Creative Habit" by Twyla Tharp, and I highly recomend it to those of you with a creative bent. A facinating read about the process of creating and the work involved in doing so. Lunch was langos - basically an elephant ear with garlic instead of sugar. Pretty tasty.

Dinner, and another of Vera's tofu experiments. Tonight was Tofu Schnitzel: thinly sliced tofu with blue cheese in the middle, breaded and deep fried. I have mentioned before that Vera is the queen of cooking, but she excells at frying. This was pretty amazing stuff.

More beer notes:

Aktien Pilsner, Bayreuther Bierbrauerei AG, 4.9% by volume.

A beautiful light tawny brown with a slightly hoppy nose. Sweet and hops are well balanced in the front of the mouth, slight hop flavor in the back of the mouth that disappears a little too quickly. Not too big - another good session beer.

7/5/08 Vilseck and Weiden

2008-07-05T23:34:00.000-07:00

Z and I started the day with a walk around Vilseck, a classic little village with tile roofs and quaint architecture. Z got a bit turned around and I saw a bit more of town than I counted on, but it was a pleasant morning for a walk and everything was so beautiful, so who cares. We stopped at the kondeterei on the way home for fresh pretzels and bread for breakfast.

Our afternoon was spent in Weiden shopping on the pedestrian mall. On a beautiful summer afternoon – not too hot and slightly cloudy – the place was packed with people. A fun place to people watch. We visited a fun trachten shop (http://www.trachten.de/) and checked out the lederhosen and dirndls, and then visited the department store down the street where I was able to score a leather loden jacket on a season ending clearance for cheap!

From there to the PX for – you guessed it – more shopping. Kyra’s friend Katie works there and, having just got off work, showed us all the killer deals and helped us find the bargains.

Dinner was at a small restaurant up the street. Schnitzle and salmon for the adults and a nice play area for Jaden, with ice cream sundaes for desert (except for Uncle Dave, who opted for another beer!).

We finished the day with chatting with Greg online and via web cam. us all the killer deals and helped us find the bargains.

Dinner was at a small restaurant up the street. Schnitzle and salmon for the adults and a nice play area for Jaden, with ice cream sundaes for desert (except for Uncle Dave, who opted for another beer!).

We finished the day with chatting with Greg online and via web cam – you will be happy to know that he seems to be doing well and is looking good – then some last minute packing and off to bed to rest up for the journey to Keszthely tomorrow.

7/3 & 4/08 Not in a Philadelphia

2008-07-04T22:58:00.000-07:00

And we’re off.

Hailey picked us up at 6:00 a.m. after a very short night. We had a huge electrical storm with lots of thunder and lightning that made sleep somewhat unlikely. Alright, waiting to the last minute to pack probably didn’t help a whole lot either. On the plus side, we both got a whole lot more sleep than usual on the plane!

We did a play several years ago at VSAA that had a short piece called “Philadelphia” in it. According to author David Ives, to “be in a Philadelphia” meant that you could order anything you want; a burger, a chicken sandwich, and they will bring you a cheese steak. By these standards, you can’t be in a Philadelphia in Philadelphia, as there is no cheese steak to be had in the airport. We toyed with using our four hour layover to grab a cab and go downtown for one of the famous sandwiches. Needless to say, as a vegetarian, I wasn’t that into it. But Z would be, and that’s reason enough. We took a pass this time, but maybe on the way back.

You begin to notice on international trips that you are going through the looking glass as you catch the last leg of your flight. Increasingly the people around you speak in a language that is not yours. At this point, your attention is increasingly drawn to the way people behave, the cultural similarities and differences. A mother, with a tired but beautiful smile on her face trying to keep her daughter awake before the flight. A father and son, both with a laptop out, the former a PC the latter a Mac (I wonder if they argue over the commercials).

I was lucky enough to draw one of those people on the international leg of the flight that sits down in front of you and instantly drops the seat all the way back and then leaves it there for the remainder of the flight. It gets to be a little claustrophobic and hard to read and stuff. No I didn’t smack her or bounce the back of the chair around. But I thought about it.

The nice mom from the airport ended up sitting right next to us. Needless to say you start to worry a little on a flight where you are hoping to sleep a bit and you see a kid right next to you. The poor lady was obviously exhausted, but was completely devoted to her daughter. I took mom about two hours to get daughter to drop off, and then she slept for the rest of the flight. So did mom.

We were met in Munich by Kyra and Jaden. Jaden insisted that I sit in the back so we could talk on the hour-and-a-half ride to Vilseck, their home. Jaden has reached the age where she can explain anything, so the conversation was pretty humorous (“…a car is made by putting for wheels, and then you add the sides, and then you add the top, and then…”).

We celebrated the fourth with dinner and conversation with several of Kyra’s friends in Vilseck. Kim and Nick hosted a barbecue, with Katie and Russell and Z and I as guests, as well as a few drop-ins. The gentlemen needed to drop out for a bit after one of the guests left and had an accident on the way home (no one hurt). A pleasant evening of conversation.

Several of you commented on our last trip that you enjoyed the beer notes. There should be several this trip so I’ll try and keep you posted.

Meister Pils, Schwarben Bräu Breweri, Stuttgart, 4.9% by Volume

To be fair, this beer is past its pull date. That said; the beer is more malty than hoppy. The nose is supposed to be Tettnanger according to the label (yes, they sell themselves on their aromatics). Very flavorful taste on the front of the mouth, with a nice chewy flavor that is all malt. Disappears on the back of the palette quickly, with little contribution to the overall flavor. A nice session beer. And yes, I enjoyed my session. (www.schwabenbraeu.de)

7/02/08 Round Two!

2008-07-02T07:14:00.000-07:00

And so the adventure continues again…

This trip we are scheduled to travel to Munich (you can hear the little bubbles calling my name, can’t you?), where Kyra will pick us up and take us to her home in Vilseck. From there Peter (Z’s father, if you are a bit behind), will pick us up and, with me at the wheel (can you say “autobahn?”) travel to Keszthely. We’ll hang out there for a couple of weeks with the family and see some stuff, maybe catch a play in Hungarian at the castle, possibly run up to Budapest and very likely Kecskemet, and then back to Kyra’s for some quality time in the land of beer and polkas (and so I am told culture and food and stuff like that).

Of course you notice that there are a lot of “possiblies” and “maybes” in the above list. If you have been following along so far, you know that the plan kind of exists in a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants way. So here is the wish list:

*I hope to see the castle in Keszthely this trip
*I would love to see the big ruin on the hill north of Keszthely
*I want to lay on the beach by what my granddaughter is now referring to as the “ocean” (Lake Balaton) and catch some sun and some z’s
*I would love to stop on one of the trips through and live out a lifelong dream of reading a paper and having a kaffee mit schlag in a little café in Vienna
*One word, Hofbrauhaus
*Oh yeah, and Kulmbach
*Oh and all those Klosters
*And the source of all that is good, Pilsn Czechoslovakia (you know, the place that “pilsner” comes from…)

I know that I will eat great, so I am really looking forward to that (my mother-in-law is one of the greatest cooks on the planet). I hear that some side trips to Neuschwandstein and stuff like that are being talked about, and that would be awesome. And I know that I am going to spend some quality time with Kyra and my favorite granddaughter, Jaden (OK, she is my only granddaughter, don’t wreck the moment). I also hear that there is a party planned where I will get to meet the wives and families of Greg’s unit, and that is going to be really cool.

But mostly, I’m going to relax and go with the flow. Like usual. No really.

Let round two begin…

travel continuation...

2007-10-23T02:57:00.000-07:00

Where to begin...Kyra and I had a wonderful time catching up .. her friends are wonderful woman courages and brave . They compliment each other in many ways.They are a closeknit group that cares very much about each other.All of them are on messenger and when they get together they turn the volume up on the computer that if one of the husbands gets online they won't miss the message or the opportunity to chat.. We went shopping the second day there and I found Dave really great Lederhosen.. the ladies had a few parties or get togethers that involved Poker and Boardgames of yeah and one night the alcohol flowed pretty heavily..Sometimes you have to let your hair down and if not with your good friends then with whom... what happens in Vilseck stays right there.. Vegas has nothing on these gals.. I love them all...
By living in town Kyra gets to live among the Germans, most of her neighbors are nice, its a cute little town , the churchbells wake you at 5 like it or not .. the local bakeries have amazing breads and pastries every morning by 6 .. what a way to start your day. The Butchershop has all the fresh sausages and meats . The Ladies are enjoying the german spacialties.
The Military installation is a few minutes from town , Kyra takes Jaden to school there every morning , they have shopping abilities there and pay with us currency on the economy they use Euro's.
We headed to Hungary wednesday after the kids got out of school... Kyras friend Katy ( Conley ) as jaden calls her there is 2 Katies ..and her 2 kids joined us for the trip to Hungary. It was a long very long trip , I am proud of my daughter for getting in the car and going places if she gets lost she askes for directions, too many wives sit at home and won't leave the house. Anyways thru Germany ... Austria ... and then fianlly midnight we reached my parents home. Champagne toast to our arrival oh and a snapps too .Bed and sleep ..
Next morning breakfast and then of to show Katy the town.. went to the Castle and walked around the grounds , the Castle( Festetic) has the largest Library of Agricultural books in the world. walked around town and down to the Beach where the kids got to play on all the new equipment that was just recently installed.
Home where lunch was waiting for us.. nap .. another walk ( we walk everywhere and many times a day) The Doctor from next door came over and asked that I go to see him in Heviz at the hospital so he can remove my stitches , he is the chief of staff of the Rheumatology Hospital... yup pays to have important neighbors... he pulled them nicely.. the staff was curious why I was so special..
We drove to Sumeg where there is a Fortress ruin that you can walk around .. in the summer they have period plays...mideval reenactment.. now it was just cold and windy but we walked up to the top and back down...
The Gals left the next day early in the morning .. we walked to town and windowshopped ... My dad got sick and decided to keep close to home. Kyra finally got home sunday night at 8ish.. Monday I helped my mom around the house later her and i walked to town I made a hair appointment and later we drove to Tesco and 24 hour shopping center ..
I found a really pretty coral and silver bracelet ... have to think about it it was aprox.$90.00
Back to the grocery store since my 2 cousins are coming for dinner.. made a pork roast in puffed pastry over roasted potatoes and quince compote.. wine snapps.. good times all around except dad still sick..
Today is a holiday the 51st anniversary of the 1956 revolution.. dad still sick and weather is awful rain rain wind and cold its snowing in areas of europe already...
So the visit continues ...I am having a great time catching up on family and friends .. we are heading to Serbia on thursday if my dad feels better ... all the family there is waiting to see me.. and I them.
Hope your all well
Z
T

The Adventure continues ... alone

2007-10-12T20:18:00.000-07:00

I am excited about this trip for many reasons... I miss my Daughter and granddaughter terribly and also my parents...I need some TLC from my Mom and Dad... I guess we are never to old for that .
Getting ready for this trip was slow ... I had stiches in my finger , a huge sore on my face and new glasses to get used too... Ok so I still managed but not a fast as i had hoped. The souvenir shopping is always a challenge.. what to take... this year Christmas ornaments.. swan figurines for Moms collection... ( she has several hundreds and I am supposed to find one that she doesn't have yet... HA HA HA ) My dad collects tribal masks... yeah another challenge.. at the last minute .. found both.!!!
So ... packed .. off to Seattle .. Hotel .. Airport.. up up and away... landed in Philadelphia ... wanted some cheese steak ... cause thats what your supposed to have there.... Can't have that MAM.... ( read all in the Timing .... you'll understand why that was bizarre to me ) I walked all over that Airport and its a big one... NO CHEESE STEAK!!!!!!!! So I had Teriyaki Chicken...
Flight to Munich was long... wayched the Fantastic 4 movie.. good movie ... Landed .... Baggage Claim... customes... Yippee there was Kyra and Jaden and Kyras friend Katie.... I am so happy to be here .
We grive back to Vilseck ... via the Autobahn.... yup fast ... stopped on Grafenwohr to buy some grocerys and essentials.. then off to Kyras ...
She lives in a really great house.. Jaden and I share the top floor .. Kyra is in the basement.. Living area is in the middle... Stairs are good for you i am told...
Stayed awake as late as I could... 8 Pm... off to sleep... Woke up at 4 ... layed in bed till Church Bells rang for 5 minutes at 5 AM.... time to rise and shine.... watched Tv till Kyra and Jaden got up.... No comercials... well except the AFN ones .
Took Jaden to School .... and then Starbucks...
Didn't do much other than visit till Jaden out of school ... Picked her up .. met Kyras friend Lindsey and her little one and drove to Weiden to go walk around and shop... I found Lederhosen for 99 Euros... Dirndl too... this could be an expensive trip...
Went to a Parfumerie and found a great new scent... Lancome's Hypnose... yup I think I will have to purchase at Duty Free on way home...
Had Dinner at a Pizza place.. yes real italian Pizza.. as good as it was tolk Kyra I needed to go back to noteating Dinner... So starting tomorrow ... back to my plan..
Home ... played online... K showed me all her friends on myspace.. We are going to Lindseys for Jambalaya today and Poker... LOL...

Epilogue

2006-08-22T18:20:00.000-07:00

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!

8/15 Keszthely, the adventure ends...

2006-08-15T10:03:00.000-07:00

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

8/14 Keszthely

2006-08-13T23:40:00.000-07:00

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

8/10 Keszthely

2006-08-10T01:46:00.000-07:00

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

8/4 - 6, Language Issues, Hevis, Keszthely

2006-08-07T06:37:00.000-07:00

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

8/3 Keszthely

2006-08-04T05:42:00.000-07:00

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

8/1 & 2, Keszthely

2006-08-03T01:12:00.000-07:00

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

7/31 Hevis

2006-08-01T04:40:00.000-07:00

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

7/29 & 30, Keszthely

2006-07-31T12:11:00.000-07:00

Hey look! I'm almost up to date!

We went down to the Boardwalk this evening to listen to the rock concert. The band is led by the bass player, whose claim to fame is that he is the host of Hungary’s "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire." Needless to say, these are great credentials to be a bass player in a rock band, and his skills are about what you would expect of a TV host fronting a rock band. The lead guitarist is unassuming - (!!!). The rhythm guitarist and the keyboard player are pretty competent. And then there is the trumpet/harmonica appendage. Trumpet is not really his ax - kind of a very weak Herb Alpert - and on harmonica, well, when he is in the right key and on the right chord - he’s OK! Their vocals are their strength, and they use them very effectively. Of course the trumpet appendage is the arranger. The rhythm guitarist writes the lyrics, and the songs are all originals. You’ll spend a lot of time going, "hey, that tune sounds a lot like..." But if you going to steal, steal from the best!

*****

After the show, we wandered home to meet the new house pests, relatives of the owner of the vineyard that Peter takes care of. Grandma, Mom, two boys and their new Au Pair (19), that arrived just a week ago. I was treated to watching the Au Pair survive her first schnapps (nice to watch somebody else do it for a change). I find I know just enough German to barely follow the conversation, so hurrah for me. Am I adding to the conversation? Well, not so much. In fact, not at all. But it nice to at least have some clue what is going on for a change.

The boys don’t speak any English, and are pushing me to the limit to respond in German. But they are pretty easy going about it. I thought I might teach them a word or two in English. Can you say, "Swordfish?" I know some of you have Swordfished over quite a long distance, but I like the idea of the long term payoff of this.

(Zia adds at this point that she completely doesn’t get the whole "Swordfish" thing. If ya gotta ask, you’ll never know. Besides, it is kind of beyond explanation anymore, anyway. As I am becomming an expert at this summer, just smile and nod, smile and nod...)

The boys are bundles of energy, and are immediately attracted to Peter. He is kind of a kid magnet. He seems to be having the time of his life.

The best part of this evening is - IT STARTED TO RAIN! The temperature is dropping enough that I may actually get to sleep. It feels really great after a month of heat, even though I know eventually it will push up the humidity (it ain’t the heat...).

Dave

Ok so who is the Vegetarian ????

2006-07-31T08:13:00.000-07:00

I decided to add my own post again so you don't think Dave is vacationing alone . My days are spent visiting with my parents and helping out around the house as much as I am permitted ( NOT MUCH) napping every now and then , not really my thing . When Dave naps I take in some quality time with either my Mom or Dad depending which one is around . Dad likes to stay busy , he is the Goofer ... Bread Newspaper a power walk in between... he has lost 40 pounds this last year by walking 4 - 6 hours every day .... GO DAD. My Mom is the chef , she thinks up new and exciting meals to feed Dave and us ... which brings me to the title of my post ... I am ready for some goulash a great Steak ... I love vegetables but GIVE ME MEAT !!!! I finally said you know just because Dave doesn't eat meat I DO ... My Dad is beginning to wonder if she took to this vegetarian cooking so much that she'll forget to make him meat ? Just kidding , she throws us a scrap of dead animal flesh as Dave calls it every now and again. I get some fabulous aged ( 2 years ) Prosiutto Ham and home made sausages ( smoked ) for breakfast with several different kind of cheeses , fresh tomatoes and Hungarian Wax peppers . Homemade Apricot marmalade , joghurt great fresh Bread ( I am going to miss that the most ) . Oh and coffee of course ... Lunch gets creative at times , usually a soup , and then a vegetarian entree for Dave .... Potatoe Pancakes with homemade applesauce ... stuffed Kohlrabi .... its a really tasty vegetable. Spagetti with freah made sauce .... my Mom does not like anything canned or out of a Jar ... today she made Fries and a salad for Dave and added Liver fried with Garlic for us .... fresh fruit is available at all times what ever is in season . Apricots , plums nectarines , peaches watermelon cantaloupe........ I am bringing recipes with me ....
So this is how it goes ...
Dave and I spend time walking to town , the beach .... or just hanging out around the house . I think he is getting the much deserved rest . He sleeps a lot walks a lot and even practices the Trumpet.
Well I am of for another visit with Mom... its close to dinner time ... wonder whats on the menu for tonight...
Z

7/24 thru 28, Keszthely & Zalacsany

2006-07-30T13:32:00.000-07:00

A couple of days loafing around Keszthely. It is a town that is well set up for it. I get my morning walk in and come back and practice for a while. We grab some lunch and then Zia and I take a walk to people watch. Home to practice a little more, maybe update the blog, perhaps a nap, perhaps a swim in the warm lake, gab with Peter and Vera, a light dinner, and then back to the Boardwalk for the evening program and a gelato or a beer and some more people watching. If we are feeling enthusiastic, we will bring suits and go swimming again. Do I really have to come home?

On the first of our home visits, Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni, with Klaudia, made it by this week. We had a barbecue, and I made Mediterranean Tofu Tias. Klaudia says she enjoyed them, and I believe her. Vera enjoyed them a lot, and then came up with an even better version later in the week using mushrooms instead of tofu. Everyone else ate dead animal flesh. Again, Zia will need to describe that part for you. Not part of my culinary experience this trip, sorry.

The next evening we visited Kazi and Zsusza’s vacation condo in Zalacsany, just down the road from Keszthely. The condos are built next to a castle. The condo is owned by an architect, who as a child dreamed of owning a castle. When this one became available, she hocked everything to buy it. She financed the effort by selling off the side yard. The person who bought it sat on it for a while, meanwhile she turned her castle into a resort hotel. The person who bought the side yard decided not to use it, so, putting herself into debt again, the architect bought the side yard back. She built a bunch of duplex condos, which she is now selling (a two bedroom one will set you back $50,000). Meanwhile, a championship golf course is going in across the street, with a major championship match scheduled there next year. I think property values will be going up soon, better act fast!

And so, we enjoyed the pool behind the castle. A beautiful day, maybe my farmer tan will disappear before the end of the trip. It could happen!

The next day I woke up not feeling very well due to dehydration. It has been unusually hot in Europe this summer, a continent that does not believe in air conditioning. This has lead to several deaths here this summer, over 25 in France as of last week and more than 14 in Spain. Balaton, a spring fed lake with no outlet has dropped more than 10 cm. in a week. So, lots of water, and better by evening.

*****

This evening we are the guests of Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni at a "Gypsy Wedding" show put on by a pro group in Zalacsany. Needless to say the show is proceeded with schnapps (you knew that had to happen). They meet you at the gate with it, with a traditional dry biscuit chaser. There is a photographer there to memorialize your shudders for posterity (that they will be happy to sell you after the show for $59.99, or something...). Then into the performance hall.

They perform in a permanent structure in a meadow on the edge of town. A huge wooden stage is covered with an elaborate wooden scaffolding, with a canvas roof. The audience is in arena seating, with bench seats and a plank table in front of you. Two pitchers of very good, home-grown wine, one red, one white await your drinking pleasure. A recording is playing the last tune in the Hungarian Folk Suite that was the recessional for our wedding last year and is now entrusted to Z-Musikmakers - at least I got that tune right! Meanwhile the band is setting up and quickly checking mics. The band is two guitars, a mandolin, a female vocalist (who is the dancer when the band performs separate from this show), and a percussionist who plays milk jug. Really! You have to hear it to believe it, it is pretty incredible.

One of the actors is floating around behind the audience, posing for pictures with the audience (available following the show for $59.99). Zia explains that gypsy women traditionally wear clothing that doesn’t match, and is as bright as possible to attract attention. Somewhat like what I wear to school every day, only more tasteful, I guess.

The head gypsy of the band is called "Vaida." Our Vaida is the MC of this evening’s festivities. He evidently is an insult comic, according to Zia. He begins the show by introducing his wife ("once she was pretty, now she is my wife"). Zia at this point warns me that the script contains a certain amount of profanity. I pass the warning on to you, be fore warned that I am including comments from our Vaida, and they include a certain amount of profanity. You have been warned. On with the show...

The script is a horse opera, literally. Our hero is stealing a horse to impress a girl and win her as his wife. Unfortunately, he kills his future father-in-law in the process. ("I’ve never seen such a f*^&#%g ugly dead man.") Regrettably, he doesn’t stay dead. ("Never mind, I don’t have luck in life.") The wealthy horse owner and two side kicks return, and there are several of the tricks from our Puszta show of the other evening. At one point several of these tricks are done by a mule, ridden by the father-in-law, which, according to Zia, is incredibly difficult. ("He’s a poor cowboy, his horse is as big as a dog.") I hope, at this point, that you are catching on that the plot is pretty irrelevant here. The band is pretty hip, in a very subtle way. For example, at the end of this whole mule schtick, Vaida says, "get outta here," the band plays a real short instrumental version of "Hit The Road Jack." If you don’t know the tune, you probably missed it, but several folks in the crowd got a chuckle out of it.

So, on with the "plot." The wealthy guy wants to buy the girl, which leads into a scene where he is tricked into getting drunk on sacramental wine at the ceremony, and his bride is stolen away. Much dancing ensues. The dancing is a highly skilled cross between break dancing and the slappy dance. The percussionist is adding some pretty cool mouth percussion to the music at this point, in addition to anchoring the group with bass lines played by controlling how he slaps his hand on the end of the milk jug. It is pretty amazing.

There is a mistaken belief that Hungarian Folk Music and Gypsy Folk Music are the same thing. Although there is considerable overlap, instrumental differences, and melodic shapes and modalities are different. Having heard a lot of Hungarian Folk Music lately, the differences in this show are pretty evident, although hard to describe without playing you some examples.

Anyway, onward. Half-time brings the main course. We are dining on Paprikas this evening, beef for the carnivores and mushroom for the vegetarians. The side dishes include a regional specialty. It is a pasta, made by grating a hard dough into small discs, and then cooking with lentils. This is accompanied by white bread (and yes, it is way better in Europe than in the US). The Mushroom Paprikas was a little oily, but the pasta was very flavorful. Not my best meal here, but not too shabby either. Desert is a brownie like thing, not too sweet, more nutty. Fill up the wine glasses, and on with the show.

The opening number by the band includes some strictly non-traditional blue notes which had me laughing pretty hard. The police arrive, and search the audience for "horse thieves." The selected individual ends up on stage being used for target practice for a guy with the a Hungarian horse whip, which he is able to crack at the guys side and then wrap around his waist, making it look like he is hitting the guy.

The wedding party makes their appearance, carrying the wagon tongue (you can’t steal a wagon without the wagon tongue). The dance music for the wedding is sung, primarily on "La’s." The cops are back, and being corrupt (they speak German), are bribed off. ("We were broke, but we were happy.") A large finale dance thing ensues. Vaida thanks everyone, the dancers, the band ("Does the band have a CD? You bet! But it’s f*^&#$g expensive. It looks like a coaster. What are you thinking, charging so much?") The cast dances one last tune, bringing people from the audience up (bodily carrying them if necessary). We kill the wine, and clap along. The end of a great, and very funny show. Thanks to Kazi and Zsuzsa, and Peter and Vera for taking us!

Dave

7/23 Kecskemet to Keszthely

2006-07-30T02:19:00.000-07:00

The Hungarian people are very proud of their culture, history and industriousness. To really get this, you have to understand that every true Hungarian has a pre-1910 map of Hungary and dreams of the day when the Hungarian Nation is reunified. Kazi-Basci is showing me yet another one of these maps this morning and giving me the percentages of Hungarian people in Austria, Slovakia, Serbia, Transylvania, etc. While realistic about a timetable, Kazi, like many others that I have met, knows that someday all will be reunified.

Another example you ask? Hungarians don’t toast with beer. Why? When the Hungarian Army was defeated by the Austrian Army in the 1800’s the Austrian commanders called for beer to toast their victory. The Hungarians have never forgotten.

*****

Woke up at Gabor’s this morning. He has a beautiful house that has recently been restored. The layout is great and the detail work is very nice. Gabor, a late riser, got up about 9:00 and took us on a short walk over to his parents place (about a block away).

This morning, after breakfast, a pleasant morning in conversation unless you are Dave, who opts for a nap. Lunch of the famous fish soup, and then back to Keszthely we go. The slow way.

Back in Keszthely this evening we took a walk to people watch and enjoy an evening gelato. There is a band at the hotel deck on the boardwalk playing "Dream a Little Dream of Me." I haven’t heard that tune since my trad days. It was kind of fun to hear it here. So we settled into a bench, enjoyed the music, and fed the swans. Nice end to a beautiful day.

By the way, the hotel on the other side of this is for sale, and you can pick it up for a song. So for any of you looking for an investment property...

Dave

7/22 Keszthely to Kecskemet

2006-07-29T10:53:00.000-07:00

Nearing the end of our "home and away" family visits, at least the away parts, today we travel to Kecskemet. The road is pretty straight, and the country would remind you of driving back roads down the Willamette Valley. Great, I-5 has turned into a back road. Pretty country, though. Again I am driving, and am greatly relieved that we are not headed towards the lake. The traffic is backed up for miles, on account o’ the weather bein’ so hot. We found out later there were several fatalities related to daredevil passing. I am glad I did not know about it right then.

We cheated and used the Autobahn by-pass. It is a toll road, but I missed the last gas station on the way out, so we broke the law! Fortunately, there were no police patrols, so we escaped unscathed. Yes, I did drive very fast (around 85-90ish at a couple of points), and yes, even at that speed, luxury German sedans were blowing by me like I was standing still. The bypass takes at least an hour off the drive time around the lake. It is a shame it is a toll road and that the toll is so expensive. On weekends, you can count on paying 10 euros (about 15 bucks) to use it. So more often than not on our journeys, it is the slow way.

We arrived in Kecskemet around noon, and, even though Vera has been here before, found our way to our destination only through a lot of guess work. Street plans are not necessarily obvious in a lot of cities, Kecskemet being one of them. "Street signs?" you ask. Ha. If you look carefully, you sometimes see one on the side of a building, otherwise, you are on your own.

Our destination is the home of Zia’s Uncle Kazi-Basci and Aunt Zsuzsa-Neni, where we are greeted with enthusiasm. Once again I am surrounded by people speaking Hungarian with no clue what is going on. It’s pretty funny. Hungarian is one of those "theatrical" languages, with lots of dramatic volume changes and hand gestures. As always, I enjoyed the show immensely.

After a quick snack of Campari and Juice and some very excellent savory rolls, we continued the quest for a folk music collection. Kazi-Basci took the wheel and drove us downtown to the music store that, we had been told, excelled at folk music. He had called earlier and found they were open until 1:00. I was excited. We raced downtown. Of course you know that they closed early. So, the quest continues.

The reason we could be pretty confident that the music store here would have folk music, is that Kesckemet is the home turf of Zoltan Kodaly. Kodaly, is addition to being a major composer of the 20th Century, also was responsible for a music pedagogical movement, still in use around the world, based upon folk music. Since it was right next door, we stopped by the Kodaly Institute to pay our respects.

The Institute has a small visitors section that you can check out for a small fee. You can see more of the School if you get there at the right time, but, it being a school and all, they don’t want distractions while classes and lessons are going on. The visitors section is a hallway that has some pictures of the man and his life, some original manuscripts of his compositions, and stuff like that. Not having seen very many pictures of Kodaly, I must say he has quite the mullet on him.

A couple o’ thoughts from da man...

"I do not in the least consider what has been done in recent years in the field of physical culture to be too much. Indeed, I find it too little...but do not let us forget the soul either."

Hmm, balance time for PE and Art? Seems pretty radical to me.

"Nobody is too great to write for the little ones; indeed, he must do his best to be great enough for them."

That one is going up over my computer when I get home.

"Our age of mechanization leads along a road ending with man himself as a machine; only the spirit of singing can save us from this fate."

President Bush take note.

"We decided to make use of our people’s tunes. And if we have something to say to the world it can only be expressed in the language used by the people."

Again, President Bush take note.

*****

From there, Kazi-Basci took us to see the central square. All of the local faiths have large churches in the square of the very large and ornate variety. We did a quick 360 in the middle of the courtyard and then headed for home. Along the way, Kazi pointed out the school that one of his grandchildren attends. It looks a lot like one of the big churches we have just been gawking at. Nice to see a classic school for a change.

From there, home for lunch and to meet Kazi and Zsusza’a children. First to arrive is the guest of honor for the evening, Kis-Kazi (or Kazi Jr.), with his wife Zsuzsa (yes, I know, they have the same name, too. Confused yet?), their daughter, Klaudia, and her boys Gabie and Csabi. Kis-Kazi just finished working on a college degree that will earn him a promotion in the Hungarian Army to Lieutenant Colonel as of next Monday.

Shortly there after came the arrival of Gabor, sporting a pair of plastic fake teeth and some amazingly long fake nose hair to make a good impression on his cousin’s new husband. And good impression he did make!

Kis-Kazi and Gabor are obviously good friends as well as being brothers. They have outrageous senses of humor that I can catch a lot of time, even with the language issues. There is a whole family lore about their travels abroad, which they did frequently when they were younger, and still whenever they can now.

We are celebrating Kis-Kazi’s graduation at one of the local Puszta’s. The dictionary I have defines Puszta as being barren wilderness, but it is more romantically used to describe a ranch. There is quite the tourist industry in Hungary taking you out to the Puszta for dinner, to see the old farm buildings, and the centerpiece, an amazing horse show.

We arrived a little early and were walking around the yard, looking at the bread ovens and things, when we were accosted by a gentleman complimenting us on our English. "I’ve been speaking it all my life," was the reply. "Me, too." he said. Turns out that Stew and his wife Sue are from Prineville. What a small world. So, Zia translated for all of us, and I got to speak some English and be understood by someone other than Zia and Vera for the first time in a couple weeks. A win-win.

After the obligatory schnapps course, we went out to the yard for the horse show. The horse show is a demonstration of riding skills and horse control. The riders can do some pretty incredible stuff, even though one of the riders got accidentally kicked in the shin and was out for the rest of the show. (He was back later and seemed to be walking OK, but I bet it is a great bruise). The grand finale of this show is 10 horses, harnessed together, with a guy standing on the back pair holding the reins and riding them around the yard at a pretty good clip without killing himself. Very impressive!

From there we boarded horse-drawn wagons and were taken out, via very dusty roads, to visit the old farm buildings and to see the organic farm. As I am really allergic to a lot of this, my trip was made much more pleasant through the use of copious sinus pills (thanks, Jerry!).
The farm has been in existence for 100 years. The family that were the original owners are buying it back from the state a section at a time (ain’t Communism wonderful?). The house has thick clay walls and a straw roof that is about a meter deep, very good for regulating temperature. Inside you find the old classic bread oven, built in such a way that you can heat the house with it also. There is a pantry full of stuff, preserves, sausages, etc., all homemade. On the way out Zsuzsa-Neni calls my attention to a painting on the wall. It is a page of Hungarian history, depicting one of the Turkish invasions, where a man had just killed his wife to keep her from ending up in a harem, prior to killing himself.

Outside, the lady of the ranch showed us the stock, rare cattle and chickens only bred in Hungary, and then poured us a taste of the homegrown wine. Needless to say, some of the local stuff was available for sale. Kazi-Basci bought me a jar of the hot pepper preserve, that is used as a condiment for soups and things. With his comment that "You will remember me twice every time I use it," caution will of course be the rule.

Back to the restaurant (ettrem) for dinner, salads and a splendid selection of fried cheeses and fried vegetables for me, dead animal fresh and goulash for everyone else, a couple of beers and a great band. The violinist came by, taking requests, and soon the whole table was singing along. The nice thing about folk song is that it is pretty easy to pick up. I can "La La" with the best of them!

As we are staying with Gabor this evening, we left with him and his current girlfriend, Rita. But first, a stop by Kis-Kazi’s for a (large) glass of brandy. One sip in and the phone rings. Stepping back for a moment, Gabor and Rita missed the show part of this evening because, as soon as we arrived at the Puszta, Kazi-Basci’s home alarm system went off, and so Gabor and Rita went back to discover that Kazi had left on a fan that was blowing the curtains around. Needless to say, the phone call was to let Gabor know that he had neglected to return the keys. So, gulp and go. Back to Kazi and Szusza’s to drop off the keys and consume a few more of the great rolls from earlier.

Gabor and Kis-Kazi and entourage (including us) then proceeded downtown to Futyulos (with bunches of extra stuff that this computer will not allow me to add. Speaking of additions, a "Futyulos" is a schnapps glass that, when empty, allows you to whistle for another by blowing across the top) for more beer. Beck’s this time. Kazi and Gabor had a great time relating their legend for Rita, who had not heard it yet, and, presumably, for me, although the delivery was way to fast for Zia to translate for me. Besides, she has told me some of these stories already. That said, Kazi and Gabor, I am looking forward to hearing the stories you don’t tell in mixed company.

They then took Zia and I for a more leisurely tour of downtown, but honestly, I was too tired to remember. The old folks waved the white flag and got them to take us home and put us to bed.

*****

For those of you who have been wanting to post to our blog, my humblest apologies. I am new to this whole blogging thing and had the settings wrong. You should be able to post now, if you wish, so drop us a line. We really would love to hear from you!

Dave

7/20 & 21, Keszthely

2006-07-28T04:52:00.000-07:00

Back in Keszthely. This is the place we come between adventures to rest up. Keszthely is a resort town, pretty much interchangeable with any other resort town. You could take Keszthely and drop it on the Oregon Coast and nothing would look amiss except the narrow streets and the funky old buildings.

After breakfast every morning, I get to take a great walk. I usually start by walking past the train station, with the little major triad chimes that go off every time a train arrives or leaves. If I am there early enough I can see the guys on the steam engine preparing for the day trip to whatever tourist attraction they go to every day.

Turn the corner, and you are on the "Boardwalk" heading for the paid beach. It is fun to walk past the stores in the morning. It is a lot like watching a festival come to life, people in adjoining booths catching up as they place their displays out. The "Ettrem" or restaurants here serve the culinary delight, "Ketchup Pizza." Anything with a red sauce is done using German-style Ketchup. A little more spicy than what you are used to, but still Ketchup. (Since my family will inevitably at this point bring up that I should be right at home, having eaten ketchup sandwiches as a kid, I will point out that Zia used to eat mustard sandwiches. See, we were made for each other.)

At the end of the Boardwalk is the booth to enter the paid beach. Balaton is very shallow, an excellent place to swim with children. You can go out hundreds of meters and still only be standing on a fine sandy bottom in water to your waist. There is a dock that goes out to deeper water for swimmers. The early arrivers are just getting here to claim the choice spots on the sandy beach.

Because several letters came inquiring, I hate to break this to you guys, but every guy wears a speedo on the beach. So if you don’t want to stick our like a sore thumb, you acquire a speedo. As the Admiral said, "If the natives are rubbing blue mud in their navels, I rub blue mud in mine." Zia seems to be enjoying it immensely.

From there, if the mosquito population has abated for the day, I’ll walk out the other dock to where the Balaton Cruises leave. You have your choice of three different boats taking different kind of sightseeing adventures around the lake. There is a restroom here if you need it, but make sure you have a 100 ft coin with you. Most public restrooms are pay toilets.

From the lake on most days I will drift towards the "Centrum," the center square. This takes me past the restaurant that advertises the quality of the cooking based upon the head cooks weight (165 kilos today, must be good...), and up a narrow street to the center square.

To your left is a great old church that is now part of the Agricultural College. The right is Kossuth Lajos Utca (Koh-shoot Loy-osh Oo-tza), a blocked off pedestrian plaza. Kossuth was the chief spokesman for the revolution in 1848, and is, dubiously, a national hero. Most towns in Hungary have a street named after him. The pedestrian plaza is a great place to people watch. A wide, tree lined, marble and brick street, the break from cars is welcome. The stores offer a wide variety of stuff to the shopper, like women’s clothes, lingerie, money changers, women’s clothes, lingerie, swim suits, women’s clothes, lingerie, tourist trinkets, women’s clothes, lingerie, folk clothing, women’s clothes, lingerie, coffee and gelatto, women’s clothes, and lingerie. One afternoon, we were enjoying an iced coffee here when a familiar tune came over the muzak. "Jingle Bell Rock" did nothing to cool us off, but it did elicit a chuckle from us both.

From here it is short, two block walk to the Festetics Castle. Through a big wrought-iron gate is a big courtyard with the standard flowers and fountain. The castle is about a block long, with a tall "onion dome" on the top, the most recognizable landmark in the city. The left side is blocky, with lots of ornate detail around the windows. The right side is more rounded and simpler. There is a courtyard on the other side, that we have not checked out yet, where they put on Shakespeare productions al-fresco, and Johann Strauss gets his due in the ballroom upstairs once a week or so.

From here, I usually turn around and head for home. Sometimes I get enthusiastic and go farther, but, hey, I’m on vacation.

*****

I’ll probably get in trouble for this, but, what is it with women and shoes? I have visited six different shoe stores today with Zia and Vera because the shoes that Zia has for the stuff this weekend don’t look right, and the ones she does have are comfortable. I don’t get it...

Dave

Contest Reminder

2006-07-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

A reminder of our contest. Come on all you theatre folks, where are your entries? Post an answer here or send it to us e-mail.

There are several Shakespeare productions presented in Hungarian in the grounds around the Castle, needless to say in Hungarian. This has lead to some very interesting translations of the titles of the plays. Below are the English translations of the Hungarian translations of the original English titles. First person to get all the titles right gets some trinket that we will snag for you at the local black market. The titles are:

Errors happy games
Grumpy chick
Water Cross or Cross in Water
A lot of wind for not much

Have fun!

Zia and Dave

7/19 Kishegyes to Keszthely

2006-07-27T12:41:00.000-07:00

We will leave Kishegyes today to return to Keszthely. Jaden’s continued illness and Kyra’s anxiousness to get home seem to be the reasons. Peter is not coming with us, but will join us on Saturday in Kecskemet. He still has a few things to do to get ready for winter and needs to collect a few rents on property concerns here.

Some Serbian odds and ends:

Jelen Pivo (Don’t be "gellin,’" you should be "yellin,’" cuz’ that would be Yellin’ PEE-vo); you see signs for this stuff everywhere. At 6% it is a pretty big beer, relatively speaking. Unfortunately, it is also the Budwiser of the region, thin in flavor completely lacking any flavor. The stuff of teen keg parties, it exists solely to get you drunk. This is the worst beer we have had here so far. The size of the ad budget confirms something that I have felt all along, most people don’t drink beer to enjoy it, they are looking for the buzz. Well for them, "Are you yellin’?"

While we are talking beer (and can you think of a better thing to talk about?), a nasty trend has arrived here, according to Peter, that has been around for a while in the States. Most of the beer you are drinking now a days, unless it is from a micro or from Germany, has more resemblance to the production of soda pop than it does to the science of brewing. Many of the formerly world class beers are now made with extracts and flavor additives. At least it is not as chemical-ly as it used to be. The worst possible news, again from Peter, is that even the great Urqeull is now brewed this way. I was hoping to taste one of the great pilsners, and it appears I got here too late.

More on Serbian driving: When you take your car in for the required yearly inspection to renew the tags, they ask you two questions; 1) Do the brakes work? and 2) does the horn work? Answer yes to both and you pass.

So, on our way... We passed through the community of Kiskunhalas on the way to Keszthely. According to Vera, this community is famous for its lace. It is a rare house that does not have at least some of it on a table somewhere.

We made a rest stop at TESCO, the large supermarket to use the facilities and pick up some "snacks." My new find, "Turo Rudi." Chocolate covered cheese, you gotta love this. As we left the market I happened to glance at the night club sign. The club is called "New Tuning Disco." So, for those of you who have heard this joke too many times, "Tu-ning" may not be a village in China, but it is a disco in Hungary.

Dave

7/18, Kishegyes

2006-07-26T06:08:00.000-07:00

We spent the morning getting groceries for the barbecue. First a trip to the local market, and then down to Topolya. Zia got her annual pair of clogs and Vera picked up produce. A little less fuss was made over us this week, so I had a little more time to look around.

You hear the word "mournful" used a lot to describe market sellers. But the guy at the front of the market, doing the sellers' Gregorian chant, did sound that way. I suppose people buy from him because they feel sorry for him. I saw a guy walking around with a "New Seasons Grocery" shirt today, but he wandered off before I got a chance to try and talk with him. I also saw an "Oregon" T-shirt that I am informed is the trade name of a popular brand of jeans. There are lots of weird brand names for jeans around here, "Fox Sports Jeans," "Cowboy Jeans," etc.

*****

Went by Lojos and Bori’s to invite them to the Barbecue and enjoy a glass of "K-ha-3 Mnnow" water. Zia says it is called "Knaz Milos" (knawz mee-losh), but I know what the label says, and it isn’t that. Bori, who has her younger grandchildren helping around the farm this summer is troubled by the death of the child in Kishegyes. Her grandkids play the same kinds of games.

*****

By the way, if you are looking for Kishegyes on the map, you won’t find it. That is the Hungarian name for town, meaning "small hill." The Serbian name is on the map. It is "Mali Idos" (molly ee-dosh). In a perfect world there is a little horizontal line across the vertical line of the "D."

*****

Lojos and Bori, Emese’s husband, Joe, and son Adam (Emese is at a teacher workshop), her parents Katie and Imre, and Beethoven-Basci and Mozart-Neni are here for dinner. Because you may be wondering; Beethoven-Basci was breeding two Saint Bernard dogs at the same time the movie came out. His real name, Laci, roughly the equivalent of Joe. Since there were lot’s of Laci’s, and the kids were having a hard time keeping them straight, he got to be Beethoven-Basci. He was, on the other hand, a fine gypsy fiddler. I will not get to hear him play this trip, however, as he is having medical problems that may cause him to have to stop all together.)

My Father-in-law is showing an astonishing repertoire of naughty stories and songs. Adam is getting quite a "History Lesson." (Every time Peter finishes a story or song, Joe, through his laughter says, "History lesson, son, history lesson.") I played a little trumpet for everyone, using the score for the new Hungarian thing I wrote for Z-Musicmakers and gave as a gift to Beethoven-Basci. Seems the book I found the tunes in has some minor flaws in the melodies of a couple of tunes. Beethoven-Basci promises to send me corrected versions (but I am not changing the chart, it is the way I like it, and it was written for Zia for a wedding present).

Dave

7/17, Kishegyes

2006-07-26T01:18:00.000-07:00

We are all moving a little slow today. Jaden, who was out late and didn’t eat well last night, was sick again, so we will probably cut short our visit to Kisheyges and go back to Kestzthely. We are planning a barbecue for family and friends for tomorrow evening, as a big send-off.

*****

Vera made Apful Strudel for lunch today. You gotta love this!

*****
Little by little I am beginning to make some sense of language things; words, labels, etc. So I was a bit surprised, as we were moving a table from the basement to the back porch for the barbecue, to see a label that I was pretty sure I was not getting wrong. "Sweetie," I asked, "correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t that nitroglycerin on the shelf?" It is, it is! Peter uses it to kill mice!

*****

Like many family trips, the plans for this adventure are changing daily. I am learning to make no plans and go with the flow.

*****

While it is difficult not being able to understand the language with everyone - and trust me, many are very good about trying to find a way to communicate - some of the "meet and greets" feel a bit like being a prized nic-nac, to be produced and admired for a few minutes before the conversation drifts to items of more consequence. I’ve got to start those German classes again when I get back.

7/16 Palic and Kishyeges

2006-07-26T00:49:00.000-07:00

We went to Palic (PAULich) today, slightly to the east of Subotica, to visit the zoo. This is a way different animal than the Oregon Zoo (pun intended). Cages are often very small and you can often get a lot closer to cages and pens than you would think is safe.

According to Zia, during the war the government abandoned the zoo. After several days the local populace broke in and started feeding the animals scraps (keep in mind that during the war food was scarce, so this was quite a hardship). Most of the animals were kept alive these donations. Now that things have settled down there are plans for renovations and improvements.

From there we walked over to the lake. The hotel where Vera and Peter first met is there, a great big 100 year old building from a more gilded age, when the wealthy would take "the cure" by the lake. From there we headed for home, via the downtown square in Subotica so that Jaden could have "Kitchen" Nuggets. You know, McDonald’s are a lot better if you can sit outside and look at a great historic square while you eat there (and they have beer in Europe!).

*****

This evening we went to the 75th birthday party of Pityu-Basci, an old friend of Peter and Vera. The schnapps course included the afore mentioned "Quince Schnapps." As a warning to you, dear readers, this is what it taste like. The nose is rubbing alcohol, with hints of paint thinner. At this point you find yourself thinking "Oh, this is not going to be good." If only you had listened, but, courtesy calls, so... On the front of the mouth one gets hints of fruit, mostly cherry - not so bad. Rolling it across the tongue you swallow and feel the huge alcohol thing. Whew, not so bad...

You remember those cartoons, where the guy drinks the stuff and sighs contentedly - then a beat - then smoke clouds come out the ears, face changes several shades of red, fire on the tongue, etc. That is kid stuff compared to this stuff. First your tongue and throat start burning. Then you feel the hair on your sinuses catch on fire, your stomach is churning, and O the alcohol... I am not sure what the percent alcohol this stuff it, but the scale probably needs to run into the millions. They should give you a shirt after you have it, "I survived the Quince." Of course manners - honored guest from America and all - required that I drink 3 shots of this death potion within a half an hour of arriving. Wrecked before the evening even began...

Dinner, a variety of salads and meats, followed by dancing to a live band. The classic bar band, a Cassio Keyboard (first time I have ever seen anyone use the one finger left hand chord feature on a gig), accordion and violin.

Zia, as she sometimes does when folk music from Hungary is played, was overcome with homesickness. After being here for a couple of weeks and being fortunate enough to see what life is like in her hometown, I can still only imagine how hard it must have been on her to give this all up, her life, her people, her culture, her home, and move to America. I don’t know that I would have been strong enough to do it.

*****

I suppose that this would be the place to talk about smoking in Europe. At least where we are at the moment, there is no such thing as a "smoke-free" area. Trust me when I say that your bar gig days did not prepare you for this. I can remember some pretty smoky places, but things were so dense with smoke at one point in the evening I literally could not see the other side of the room. As a result, I did not get to enjoy as much of the evening as I might have liked.

Pityu-Basci - a vibrant and energetic 75 - was sincerely touched by our visit, and honored that we had come. It was a magical evening.

We left around 1:00 to bring Jaden home for bed. Peter and Vera walked home sometime after 3:30 - now we know who the party animals are.

Dave

7/15, Kishegyes

2006-07-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

Seems the folks in the house across the street aren’t talking to us. They evidently like to use the front yard as a parking lot during harvest season and we came back at the wrong time for them to use it. Just when you thought you were on vacation from High School...

There is a tragedy in town today. A three year old boy has been killed by hitting his head on a trailer. As mentioned before, the hay trailers here ‘bouts are stacked very high. A tractor was pulling two of these over full trailers and the boy tried to jump on the back one - the one farthest from the driver. He evidently hit his head falling off the back. His six year old brother was watching him and evidently egged him on to do it, and the driver couldn’t see them because they were on the other side of all the hay.

*****

On the other end of the spectrum, Zia and I were on our daily walk to the gelato stand and ran into a wedding procession. Hungarian weddings are quite the event. The entire wedding party, the band, and the grooms guests all meet at the grooms house. From there, to the accompaniment of the band, they process to the bride’s house to collect her and her guests. They then process to the court house for the civil ceremony. Along the way the men in the wedding party will pass out wine to spectators to toast the happy couple, and the women in the wedding party will pass out "Fonott Kalacs (Fo-NOTT Ka-lash)," a sweet bread shaped like a pretzel. After the civil ceremony the party, again accompanied by the band, process to the church for the religious part of the ceremony. They then process to the reception, where things look a lot like our wedding reception did.

*****

You have to admire Jaden. If there is another kid around, she wants to play, and finds a way to make it happen, with verve!

*****

Tonight’s band at Dombosfest is a quintet playing a cross between traditional Hungarian folk music and Gypsy Jazz ala the Paris Quintet with Grapelli and Reinhardt, with a major Balkan overtone. The whole thing comes off sounding kind of like the Mahavishnu Orchestra. This probably the most frustrating thing I have heard in a while. The guitarist and violinist are monsters, but everything sounds the same. The keys are almost always G and D without any key changes. The tunes mostly always accelerando at the end. The whole band play pretty much all the time. After three or four tunes you find your self thinking, "yeah, I’ve heard that."

Jaden, on the other hand, was completely digging it. She was having a grand old time doing the hippie dance in front of the crowd. Her great-grandmother promised her chocolate for dancing so enthusiastically, but had to renege and give clothing instead after she got sick. The local music teacher, who was sitting in front of us, asked which family she was with. When we explained that she was our granddaughter, and that her father was in the military, he was completely disbelieving. Seems Americans in general, and daughters of military personnel in particular, can’t dance that enthusiastically. You go, Jaden! Needless to say, Peter is taking full credit.

On TV this evening after the concert is a Folk Dance and Music Contest. The group on while we watch has dresses that were worn in this festival by the great-grandparents of the female participants. The dresses are highly ornate, and Zia says by custom they must wear 16 petticoats underneath. Sounds pretty hot to me. Again I am amazed by a folk culture that has been around for centuries longer than we have had a country.

Dave

A few words from Zia

2006-07-24T05:23:00.000-07:00

Seems the true name of this Blog should have been Dave's adventures , its just a family visit for me and a coming home. I feel very strongly about home , my family has lived here for many generations during Hungarian times and now Serbia as after world war 2 this area was given to serbia ( then Yugoslavia ) Hungary was torn into bits and given to the surrounding country's only one third of OLD HUNGARY is this Hungary. but enough history .
I watched our old family home get torn down , many generations of Keckes were born there , I was the last . The house was given to my parents by my great grandparents as a wedding present and then to my grandparents when my parents moved to Germany . I spent a many summer there , the horse barn was my favorite spot , seeing it for the last time made me cry. The house was bought by my cousin and he is building a grocery store in its place. I guess I'll always have the memories.
Its great to see every one family and old friends , I am enjoying all my favorite foods , everyone is trying to spoil us , me with meat. Roasted goat , fried chicken with creamed squash is dill sauce. Pasta with cream of wheat served with apricot marmelade.The great salads and fruits....
Sorry I'm not the creative writer I'm having a fabulous time , my family adores Dave its fun to see them interacting with him and of course the creative vegetarian dishes.... sometimes its easier to say why don't you go eat at the Beach.... My Dad is worried that my Mom will make a habbit of this vegetarian cooking even after we leave... " you know its not healthy for a man not to eat meat".....
Till next time Zia

7/14 Kishegyes

2006-07-24T05:15:00.000-07:00

Peter badly cut his finger this morning. No stitches here - squeeze some blood out to cleanse the wound, rinse in schnapps, and slap on a bandage. Schnapps, what it doesn’t cure will kill you. Must be the Hungarian version of Windex!

Lunch today is as guests of Emese and family. We had two different casseroles, a cheese and cauliflower thing and a stuffed pepper thing that was almost Spanish in character, fried cheese, fried bread, and some dead animal-flesh thing that I didn’t notice. (Sorry, Zia is going to have to tell you about meat dishes, the vegetarian cannot be expected to notice!) All this was tossed down with the obligatory schnapps and Pivo Pils. I really can’t tell you anything about the Pivo because of the two schnapps that completely obliterated my palate before it, but it was one of the afore mentioned "lawn mower" beers. Good, but not memorable. Dessert is cream puffs (entirely homemade!) and raspberry cream (for each cup of raspberries, one cup of sugar and one egg white and blend like crazy).

Before the meal Adam, Emese’s son, is told that we are eating all of the casseroles because I am a vegetarian. He wanted to know if I was going to be eating in the kitchen. It seems the family used to sneak into the kitchen to eat stuff Adam, who has food allergies, couldn’t eat on his diet. Seems he knew that.

Tonight’s at Domosfest (that would be dom-bowsh-fest) we get a study in contrasts. The first group is a duet, a female vocalist and a wind player (soprano sax, Hungarian bagpipe and a folk flute) doing traditional gypsy tunes. They are an amazing ensemble that held an entire audience spellbound for a 90 minute set, part formalized, part improvised and all hauntingly beautiful. Their web site, which we regrettably can’t get to on this computer (too slow), is www.palyabea.hu. They were followed by a band that had grown to 15 by the time we left (the lightning was getting a little ominous). I don’t know if they got bigger or not, but I know there were still open mics on stage. It was all very well organized and tres slick. Everything sounded the same, there was no strong lead voice - it was as boring as the other group was interesting.

At home Peter is watching a documentary about the church in Topolya. It is 100 years old as of the filming of this show (a couple of years old). They are showing a grade school age choir singing in 4 parts - a cappella - lovely!

Dave

7/13 Subotica and Serbia Driving Rules

2006-07-24T00:23:00.000-07:00

Jaden is very ill today. Our friend Emese has contacted her doctor and arranged for her to come by, even though she is still on vacation (that’s right, a house call!). In the meantime, she brought by some anti-vomiting medication to give her. Getting her to lay down and rest is not a problem.

Peter needs to visit a bank and pick up some plumbing supplies, so Zia and I get to accompany him to Subotica (SUBot-ka if you are Hungarian, Serbian is SU-bo-ti-sa, you will hear both). Lucky me, I get to drive!

Dear readers, I don’t know how many of you will ever have the privilege of driving in Serbia. If, however, you should ever find yourself in such a fortunate circumstance, I have compiled a list of driving rules for your edification:

SERBIAN DRIVING RULES:
1) 50 kph in town and 80 kph in the country
2) You may pass anywhere and at any time. In fact you are encouraged to do so.
3) Always check the rear view mirrors before passing as the guy behind you in the Mercedes may be blowing past you at the same time.
4) Pedestrians are worth 500 points, bicycles 700, and motor scooters 1000, and they mean it - really!
5) Busses and trucks are required to be driven by psychopaths. Stay away from them, even if you have to drive on somebody’s front yard.
5a) If you have a bigger car than the one coming the other direction, the smaller car will move to the shoulder for you - or else!
6) If someone should dare to get in front of you or, move more slowly than you would wish, or, heaven forbid, act in such a fashion that requires you to slow down or stop, you are required, by law, to honk the horn non-stop until you are three blocks past the offender or until you feel better, which ever comes last!
7) (This one from Peter) If you hit a retired person on a bike, the government will pay you a cash bonus because they don’t have to pay retirement anymore.

From this you gather that the roads here are pretty narrow, and you would be right to a point. This is farm country and mostly back roads. There is an Autobahn near by, but no one is trusting me to drive on it - yet.

Being farm country, there is also a lot of farm equipment on the roads (which Peter tells me I may pass anywhere, anytime - no surprise!). Farm equipment is a broad term that encompasses combines, tractors, horse-drawn wagons, hay trailers stacks about 90 bales high (No really, the first one of these beauties we saw was just barely clearing power lines!), and etc., etc. Needless to say dodging these moving targets makes driving an adventure.

As we go, Peter fills us in on the history of Subotica. The city was founded in the 1300’s and given as a birthday present to Maria Theresa. Like most cities, Subotica was originally quite small, but gradually absorbed the local ‘burbs, growing in size. There is still a little friction in the ‘burbs about being part of the city, but mostly they have joined willingly. City hall is a beautifully ornate, 100 year old building. Peter tells us it was designed by an English architect. No one bothered to tell him that the city was built on sand, and when the building sank - a uniform foot on all sides - he assumed it was his fault. He then climbed to the highest tower and three himself off.

Subotica is the first place we have visited that makes me feel like we are in Europe instead of a small town in the U.S. with weird signs and people who talk funny. At the center of town is a large open area that could be from central casting...
Great old buildings - check
Central fountain - check
Tree lined boulevard - check
Really cool statues and architectural features - check
The obligatory Mc Donald’s - check

Peter made his visit to the bank and sends us to the music store on the first of several futile attempts to buy folk music collections. On the plus side, they were well stocked with guitar music, so I was able to grab a collection of classical pieces by Yugoslavian composers and a beginning guitar method, that should add a regional flair to my classes in the fall. How global is the marketplace? You could move this store to Vancouver and never notice a difference. They had all the major brands, Yamaha, Bach, Takamine, etc., and nothing by local artisans.

We met Peter, and then a brief visit to the WC for Zia, where she was chastised by the attendant for daring to take more than three squares of toilet paper. From there to the farmers market, much like the ones in Topolya and Kishegyes, only much bigger. From there we went to the "Black Market." Needless to say, with the end of the oppressive dictatorship in the region, there is no reason for a Black Market (I’ll pause for your laughter here). The Black Market is much like a mall, except all the stores are really small and entirely portable. We will be coming back on Monday theoretically, so a quick trip through for plumbing supplies and a present for Greg (Zia’s son-in-law), and then back home.

The doctor visited in the afternoon to see Jaden. Medical care is free for children in Serbia - however the doctor will accept a small "gift" for her house call. Jaden is dehydrated from vomiting, but otherwise OK. Bed rest and electrolytes are the prescription.

We are guests of Lajos and Bori this evening for dinner (Kyra and Jaden staying home to sleep). Dinner is a famous Hungarian fish stew - very spicy - served over pasta with bread and pommes frittes on the side. The obligatory schnapps course is six-year-old cherry (aging it smoothes it out - some). Lojos has just received the license from the state that will allow him to start commercially producing this rocket fuel for public consumption. He took delivery of his first two semi-truck loads of cherries this week and goes into production next week. He promises pictures of the whole process.

You, fair reader, are probably assuming that Zia and I are drinking a lot of beer on this trip - and you would be correct - but mostly we aren’t mentioning it unless it is something really good or particularly awful. The rest are what homebrewers affectionately refer to as "lawn mower beers," low in alcohol, refreshing but thin on the palate.

Dave

7/11 & 12, Kishegyes and Vrvas

2006-07-21T04:09:00.000-07:00

7/11

We went to the "Big" Farmer’s Market today in both Kishegyes and up the road in Topolya. Zia (and I upon introduction) were greeted by about 30 people. A "greeting" is defined thus: a high, shrill scream, followed by cheek kissing (two, maybe three times, you never know), a few phrases in Hungarian directed at me, a big stupid grin in return, and then my part of the greeting is over and Zia takes over.

A Farmer’s Market in this part of the world is much like a grocery store. You get your produce here, but you can buy washing detergent, cookware, clothing, shoes, toys, canned goods - just about anything. But the market is as much a social activity as it is a market. The market in Kishegyes is held on a temporarily closed street with permanent concrete stalls for the vendors. In Topolya there is a more permanent set-up.

From there we went to the CBA Market in Topolya, the store owned by Feri and Ani. Upon meeting them on the way to the car we were invited up to their very Euro-chic office for espresso. Great art work on the wall and more detail by the genius woodworker guy.
From there we went home for lunch, and then the 2 hour afternoon folk music show on TV. Then out to the deck to practice - a typical afternoon in Kishegyes.

Dinner this evening with a visit from Lajos and Bori. The schnapps course this evening is Quince, about which more in a later entry. Dinner is a casserole made of potato, hard boiled eggs, cheese, sour cream, salt and pepper. A little weird but pretty good. Right after dinner we were joined by Zia’s friend, Emese, a seventh grade school teacher, and her husband, Joe (a nick name given to him because he listened to the Hendrix tune "Hey Joe" a lot).

7/12

Emese gave us a tour of her school this morning. It is in the center of town, and used to be a bar (many of us would feel right at home), with a central courtyard that is now a play space, but in the day was where you parked your horse when you dropped in for a drink.

See if this sounds familiar; Europe just conducted a test of 58 countries. In one area, Serbian schools came in 56th of 58. You guessed it, now every area of instruction must find a way to tie into this area. The area? Not math and language, in which areas they scored very high. No, we are talking about life skills here, vacuuming, doing laundry, balancing a check book, ironing, budgeting for groceries, etc. OK, doubt we would do very well there, either.

The tour starts in the gym. I have heard numerous complaints from PE teachers over the years over the conditions of the floors. Trust me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet folks. The wood is unfinished and made of small tiles. Can you say splinters?

Next we see a first grade classroom, interchangeable with one in the States except for all those extra letters in the alphabet over the black board. A quick trip to the office to meet the Principal and her secretary, and then out into the hall to look at the student art. Pretty good stuff.

Upstairs, we look in on a physics classroom. The special science tools - 3 sinks and some plants.

Next we see Emese’s class room. She teaches 5th through 8th grade history and seventh grade homeroom. You are greeted by the expected bulletin board of Niccolai Tesla, the patron saint of Serbian science, and then the typical history set up, maps, maps, and more maps. The 5th grade year, Emese teaches from early times to the Greek and Roman periods. 6th graders cover the middle ages to the renaissance and a healthy dose of early Hungarian and Serbian history. 7th graders cover the "Age of Exploration," the Turkish empire, Balkan history, the Hapsburg Empire, American Independence (to which she adds a little bit of the Civil War (?!)), the French Revolution, back to Hungarian History (which is not included in Serbian text books), and up to the 1848 Revolution. 8th graders work to the present. Emese says she doesn’t teach about the current war, that is politics, but does teach about the factors that contributed to it happening.

From Emese’s room we go back downstairs and across the courtyard to the music room. The music instruction here, like most Hungarian schools, is based upon the Kodaly method. There are stacks of folk music on the piano that I am drooling to get my hands on (the Kodaly method is entirely based on folk music), and, ominously, ten accordion cases in the corner.

Instruction in Europe is based on an 8 year primary school system. At the end of 8 years, students are directed to "magnet school" to begin learning career skills (yes, there are students who start medical school after 8 years of school). According to Emese, 80% of Kishegyes is out of work or a seasonal employee. This severely limits their options for future employment.

This evening we went to Verbas (Vrvas) to get a painting for Peter’s friend’s 75th Birthday. Peter, Vera and Zia are looking for a store that Ani told them about with great art work, which leaves me free to people-watch. The main drag is a wide tree-lined boulevard that is perfect for strolling, and many folks are taking advantage of it this evening. The blatant displays of flirting by the local teens, the guys being all macho and the ladies with the "just right" clothes and make up, have me laughing out loud and make me homesick for work (well, maybe just a little).

Peter and the ladies are clearly in a hurry to get this done and get outta here! On the way home, Vera explains that local dances often devolve into knock-down-drag-out fights between the Serbian-Serbs and the Montenegrian-Serbs (both local to that town), and the smart Hungarian (the minority there) bales long before trouble brews. Zia says that the clerks understood Hungarian, but would not speak it, and that she felt uncomfortable the whole time we were there. All this a mere few miles from Kishegyes. Clearly there is a long way to go before things calm down around here.

For all you beer lovers, a lot of lawn-mower-beers lately. But one that is pretty OK is MB Pils. The local hooch is made by Braueri MB (naturally), about 5%, starts like a pretty good, classic pils, but disappears on the palate quickly. On the whole, not bad though.

Dave

7/10 Kishegyes

2006-07-21T04:04:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

After being woken by the 6 a.m. construction crew across the street, I went for a walk this morning. Lots of bicycles and pedestrians this morning, very few cars. Fresh milk in the big tin cylinders seemed to be the hottest item.

It is only after I got all the way through downtown and was on my way back that I realized that people are staring at me while trying hard not to. Kind of eerie.

In another of those "Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore" moments, we had to register with the local police today. If we were not to do this Peter could be charged a hefty fine. Registering is very simple. You collect your passports and, along with your host, go to the local police department. Here you will be informed that the form you need to register is not in today, come back tomorrow. If you inquire at this point about the fine, you will be informed that you need to register today or you will be fined. When asked if there are any other registration forms in town, you will be sent to the local Farm Supply, who will then send you to the local Print Shop, who will be happy to sell you a form (10 Dinar each). So, left with no choice, you pay the money and go back to the police department, only to find that the secretary you need to see is at the dentist. From there you go to your friend the local school teacher’s house because the forms are in Serbian and unreadable by any of our plucky crew. Fill out the forms and back to the police department, where you are treated to watching the "over worked" (he’ll tell you!) office clerk talk to the police officer to ten minutes. You will need the help of a friendly local patron to translate for you at this point, for, of course, the local clerk only speaks Serbian. Then, easy as that, you get your registration certificate. See, that wasn’t so hard. Oh, and keep that with the passport or face a big fine...

Dave

July 9, Kishegyes...Hungarian Idol

2006-07-20T03:54:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
We went to the big semi-annual market in Topolya this morning. (An indication of how far things are going to have to go before things stabilize here politically can be found in the city identification signs that proudly display the name of their berg in Cyrillic, Serbian, and Hungarian...with spray paint if necessary. Needless to say the other guys version is frequently "X-ed" out.) The market covers about four city blocks and has all kids of stuff. Clothes, tools, replacement parts, livestock, produce, toiletries, etc., you have to see it to believe it. Things are pretty cheap and a certain amount of bartering goes on.

On the way home we passed a wrecked building. Peter told us that it was wrecked by a guy who swerved his car to miss a bicyclist and lost control of his car. He, miraculously, was in great shape when they loaded him into the ambulance and took him to the hospital. You know, check and release. Regrettably the attending nurse was drunk and fell on top of him. Broke three ribs.

Lunch this afternoon is at the home of Lajos (Loy-osh) and Bori. Bori is Peter’s sister. Also in attendance were Zia’s cousin Lali, his wife Adrianna, and Feri, and his wife Ani. Lali and Feri are a couple of self-made business tycoons. Lali, whom Zia refers to as the "Bicycle King," started his business by driving to the Hungarian/Serbian Border, selling his car, buying 28 bicycles, and paying school children to ride them across the boarder into Serbia, where he sold them for a handsome profit. He then sowed the money back into his business (see www.Capriolo.com, nice bikes with parts from all over the world). Feri, in addition to doing some form of work "for the government" that gets him diplomatic immunity that he won’t talk about ("If you get in trouble with the police, don’t do anything stupid and I can fix it." A comfort...), also runs a very profitable grocery store chain. These guys are a couple of characters, and I can easily see them getting into mischief as kids, although Zia assures me that is not the case.

From there to Feri and Ana’s Villa for kaffee mit schlag, champagne, an inground pool for the kids, and an opportunity for the tourists to gawk at some world class woodwork. The family have this guy on a retainer that is an artist with wood. The centerpiece of the house is a stair case constructed with branches to match the trophies hanging from the walls. All very rustic and amazing to look at.

Home to sleep off the schnapps, beer, champagne, etc., and then off to see the "Hungarian Idol." The warm-up band was a local group (the lead vocalist is a sister of the Idol) that did such varied Hungarian Folk Tunes as "Sweet Home Alabama," "All Right Now," "Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door," and the classic, "House of the Rising Sun" (I’ve been around many a poor boy, and God I know I’m one.). To be fair, their English is was better than my Hungarian, and they spent their entire set competing with the big screen showing the World Cup Final. (Italy beats France after double overtime and penalty kicks to much rejoicing. France hasn’t been popular here since the world wars.) The "Mega Stars," as they are referred to in Hungary, wisely waited until after the game to start their set.

Now I thought that we were just seeing the winner, but in Hungary the whole troop lives and dies together, and when the show ends, they all go on tour together. They are a very talented group of Karoke artists, and pretty entertaining to watch. The hometown hero is now referred to as "Mega-Magdi." People around us consider her to bring honor to the region and the whole community is proud of her. Tough to imagine that kind of community support for an American Idol winner. The crowd response was good for pre-80’s pop tunes, but the absolute best response was for rock covers of Hungarian and Serbian folk tunes!

Dave

7/8/2006 Keszthely to Kishegyes

2006-07-20T03:42:00.001-07:00

Hi all,
We haven’t had an Internet connection for a week and a half because of our trip to Serbia. The Internet cafe we had hoped to use is closed, so no posts. Back in Keszthely now, here is what you missed.

We left midmorning and took the "back roads" to the Serbian border, Peter driving. This is one of the first trips that he has taken in a car with automatic transmission, so starting and stopping was quite an adventure. As this trip was on back roads, a certain amount of passing was required. I can tell you now from frequent review that I have lead a short but interesting life.
We reached the Danube, and I took over the driving chores. We took a ferry across the Danube. Mr. Strauss was wrong and Spike was right, the Danube isn’t blue, it’s green.

Before continuing our little adventure, a few words about where we are heading. If you are not a student of recent history, I urge you to plug Serbia into a good search engine and take a look. Go ahead, I’ll wait...

OK, so you know, Serbia for Serbians, ethnic cleansing, mass graves, etc. Most of this took place in the southern part of the country, but as our story continues, you will see that the north was not unaffected.

With this said, you can understand the certain amount of trepidation with which I approached the Serbian border. There were four stops on the way through, and at each one a gate is lowered behind you, two for Hungary, and two for Serbia. At the last stop at the Serbian check point we were entertained while waiting for the border guard by watching a car in front of us begin to load an entire moving van of household goods back into a "U-Haul" type van. A few barked commands and we were on our way. I guess you never know. While all of this was going on, one of those summer heat storms was building, dark clouds and all. Just as the first lightning strikes were hitting the ground we passed a billboard featuring three men in "Klan" type black robes and hoods holding a black book with blood red letters. Really! I’m not making any of this up!

The fun part of this trip for me was getting driving directions in German, Hungarian and the occasional Serbian, eventually arriving at English about a minute too late. The other great thing was watching farm life up close and personal. At one point we passed (as quickly as possible) a tractor pulling a trailer containing a stack of hay bales about 90 high. Really! I’m not making this up! They were just clearing the power lines.

We reached Zia’s house in Kishegyes latish in the evening and had a light dinner while watching a pretty great show on a Balkan Folk Music and Dance Festival. After dinner, a soda and the World Cup, Germany 3-Portugal 1, go team. Then off to bed.

Dave

7/8/2006 Keszthely to Kishegyes

2006-07-20T03:42:00.000-07:00

July 7, Keszthely... and a contest

2006-07-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
We have arrived in Keszthely, were we are convalescing for a few days before moving on to Serbia to meet family and catch the gig of the winner of the "Hungarian Idol" TV show. Thanks to our friend Bethoven-bacsi, we have front row seats for this gig. I am going out to buy my lighter tomorrow!
We have spent our day here checking out Peter’s friends vineyard (OK, raiding his wine barrels) and walking about downtown Keszthely. The vineyard is on the hill out of Sarmellek. You travel down some really scary, narrow back roads, with kamikaze drivers barreling towards you only to veer out of the way at the last minute, and there you are. The vineyard is 4 rows of grapes, a small building with some really great oak barrels and a couple of rooms to store equipment or hang out (there is a small kitchenette). Peter siphoned out 10 liters of wine while Zia and I picked black currants out of the neighboring tree. The wine was killed that evening by Peter, Vera and Zia, while I enjoyed the greatest pilsner I have had in my life (on which more in a minute).
The vineyard next door is for sale. It produced about 1,000 liters of wine last year. For budding entrepreneurs, it is 8 rows of grapes, a guest house in need of a "little work," and all the barrels and equipment you need to start turning grapes into wine. You can own it all for $9.000 dollars. There is a caretaker working the next field who will work this one too if you wish for a little less than $300 a year. Your only problem is to find a friendly wine importer to get your hooch home and you could be an absentee landlord with a great vacation home!
Downtown Keszthely is a great place. It is an intriguing mix of old classic architecture, communist period block apartments, and new remodels and updates. Every tour book would have you believe that there are only three things here, the waterfront, the museum, and the Castle/Mansion (depending upon which version you read). We have not ventured into the museums yet, but have visited the waterfront and the Castle. Lake Balaton is a shallow, naturally-fed lake. As a result it is very warm, and perfect for swimming. We have not done this yet as I need to get a new swim suit. Seems mine is too conservative for local taste. I am afraid to find out what that means, but Zia seems to be looking forward to it.
The Castle is outfitted with great frescos and a really cool bit of statuary/fountain stuff. Peter told us a great story of the Count that owned it promising Empresses Maria Theresa of Austria that he would pick her up one winter in a horse drawn sleigh. It did not snow that winter, so he had laborers lay down salt from here to Vienna so that he could keep his promise. We will be visiting the Castle a lot this summer, as there are many cultural events held there.
Which leads us to our first contest. There are several Shakespeare productions presented in Hungarian in the grounds around the Castle, needless to say in Hungarian. This has lead to some very interesting translations of the titles of the plays. Below are the English translations of the Hungarian translations of the original English titles. First person to get all the titles right gets some trinket that we will snag for you at the local black market. The titles are:
Errors happy games
grumpy chick
Water Cross or Cross in Water
Happy attempt
Have fun!
For our beer loving friends. I have tried 4 different beers in the last couple of days. Here is what’s good and what is not-so-much. Starting with "Kozel," a Slovakian beer contract brewed in Budapest. This rather disappointing entry is 4% according to the can (most beer around here comes in a can, a situation that is supposed to improve in Germany). The nose is the "wet cat" smell of commercial, mass-produced pils. There is a pretty well balanced fore taste that completely and strangely disappears on the back of your tongue. Think Budwiser without the chemicals and you wouldn’t be too far off. Entry number two is "Edelweiss Weissenbeir." Brewed in Germany by the Hofbrau Kaltenhausen, this is a pretty typical wheat beer. The nose is a nice blend of hops and bananas, the taste is malty and bubble-gummy, with just a hint of yeast tang on the back of the tongue. You could drink a lot of these, a great session beer. Entry number three I can tell you nothing about. Seems my notes are a bit unreadable, but I can tell you it was a pretty average pils. The real find so far is Firstenberger. WOW! You are greeted at the glass with the pleasant fragrance of Saaz, you get drawn in and take a sip, only to get sucker punched with a really big pils, perfectly balanced, that just rolls across the tongue, leaving you looking for more. And yes, there is more (which of course explains why I remember nothing of entry number three). Possibly the best Pils I have ever had! (But the trip is still young.)
All of this great bier is complemented by Vera’s culinary delights. Who knew there was so much great vegetarian food in Hungary? Last night was Mushroom Paprikas. For all of you culinary folks, according to Peter, the five fingers of classic Paprikas are Meat (or substitute), water, onion, paprika, and salt. Regional or culinary alterations (sauerkraut, spices, etc.) are then added to "make it your own." When asked what the proportions of the main five ingredients were, and evasive answer was given in reply. I was informed that the mushrooms were steamed in wine before they were added to the mix. I am not sure what the dish this evening was called, but in the classic version it starts with onions and Hungarian light green peppers sautéed in a mix of equal parts olive and sunflower oil. Diced tomatoes are then added and cooked on low heat until the fluid is released. Water can be added if there is not moist enough. Like the Paprikas, it is served over rice. The version that Vera made this evening was augmented by the addition of Eggplant and Zucchini, salted to help release water, just before the tomatoes were added. Very tasty!
More later...
Dave
Hi all this is the very tired Zia ... Dave was smart and was taking naps but stubborn me well NOT. So here I sit waiting for Kyra ( our Daughter and grand daughter Jaden ) to arrive.
She drove all day to get here and had her Grandpa worried sick... she is in final stretch as we speak.
I am having a great time my parents love Dave , hell what’s not to Love . More from me tomorrow or something like that the letters are running together and the GIANT mosquitoes.
Kisses to ya all ( cause that’s the custom here )

Adventures my foot ... this is way more exciting

2006-07-06T14:20:00.000-07:00

Well I guess when we decide to go to europe we do it right ... as in what ever could go wrong did...
So we found out 3 hours before take off that we had to take our flight all the way to Budapest NO getting off in Frankfurt (so much for that travel agent) ... if we get off in Frankfurt we loose our return flight home... So calling my Mom on an airport calling card ... 12 min for $ 20.00 HELL ITS ONLY MONEY ... So someone I guess will come get us in Budapest my favorite uncle Kazi Bacsi or .... After taking a few calming breaths and buying another calling card ..calling my Mom in Germany again I find out my Parents have decided to come to Budapest and pick us up... Hey thats good news... I think ... My Dad initially said " she can find her own way there " Serbia that is. That was before he had a chance to realize his one and only child was flying across the world to see them and is bringing her Husband... yeah it got better once he blew some steam ...
Frankfurt Airport was fun , exciting , too small , overly filled with travellers , too small , not enough chairs .... having to spend 8 hours there it got worse by the hour. Sleep depravation is ugly... and so am I after being up for too many hours.
Budapest here we come .... I was so happy to see my parents and they were just as happy to see us... I'll let Dave contribute the rest... Z

My turn. Frankfurt: did you know that McDonald's have beir here. One way to make a bad restaurant better.

I won't say that everyone smokes in Germany, but, if you are a non-smoker, it gets awful challenging breathing sometimes. Granted, there are places where the smokers are supposed to hang out, but, well let's just say that all those days playing bar gigs were not wasted.

Hanging in an airport for 8 hours in another country is a great place to people watch. You, our readers, will not be supprised to discover that American teenage boys are just as boorish in Gremany as they are at home, parenting just as "permissive," and people in general just as obnoxious. Happy fourth of July.

After a short nap in the lounge, we finally left for Budapest to meet Zia's patents. A short flight, in which I fanally got my coveted window seat. I can now attest, with my own eys, that Germany, Austria and Slovakia look like Minnesota. Flat; a beautiful patchwork of farm fields and small lakes, but not a lot different than Minnesota. I'm sure it will look different on the ground later in our trip.

We arrived and hour and a half later to be met by Zia's parents, Vera and Peter. They are both characters. Although we do not share a language, we are having a great time trying to communicate, and laughing a lot over our failed attempts.

Peter and Vera took us home via a great Hungarian restaraunt for dinner. There was a live band that was increadible. After a sizable tip, the violinist hung around our table for a while, answering questions (the bratche is tuned in F), and playing us Hungarian favorites (Monte Chardas and Zia's favorite Hungarian folk tune, among others). At last, home, and, after a glass of shnapps (it is better fresh...really!), to bed.

We are having a great time so far. More latter,

D

One more day...

2006-07-02T21:51:00.000-07:00

So the time has come... one more day of crazy running around and then we leave for Europe ... 6 weeks of fun and excitement . I am hoping that I figure out how to post pictures on here but if not I am sure the stories will be humerous .