June 28, 2015 – Kishegyes … “Requiescant in pace”

My Father-In-Law, Peter, had the soul of a gypsy.  Over the course of his life, he owned property in three different countries, Serbia, Germany and Hungary, and made a sincere effort to put his foot down on the soil of as many other places as he could.  I seriously doubt there is anyone on the planet that, within a few minutes of meeting him, wasn’t a friend for life regardless of whether they shared a language or not.

In the Catholic countries, the Name Day is almost more important than the birthday.  Flowers are exchanged and meals with friends and families are enjoyed.  Tomorrow is Saint Peter-Paul day.  It will also be the first that we will celebrate without Peter.  He succumbed to cancer and complications related to diabetes in October of last year.  This could quite possibly be one of the most difficult posts I have put up on this page – so bear with me if it doesn’t reach my usual level of self-disparagement.

Z will tell you that her most vivid memories revolve around food (about witch she is currently writing a cookbook/memoir – available soon on an Amazon Kindle near you!).  As you might have guessed, mine are more focused upon musical experiences.  I have many fabulous memories of Peter and music – he was a fellow enthusiast.  In honor of his Name Day, I would like to share a memory of my favorite two:

A couple of years back. Lojos-Baci was celebrating his 70^th birthday.  As is the case in these things around these parts, a band was hired.  In this case, the Primas of the ensemble was the first-call

violinist for the film studios in Budapest looking for traditional Roma style playing.  My family all know I play, and events like this are command performances anymore.  The expectation is that I will show with a horn and sit in with the band.  This group was so good, and the level of musicianship so overwhelming that I ended up playing with them for several hours.  Through it all, I could see Peter with the largest grin on his face, talking me up to his friends and relatives, dancing, and singing along with the tunes he knew.  He talked about that party wherever we went.  As much as I enjoyed playing (and it was really cool), it was clear that he had a way better time.

We go to the Wine Fest every year just before we leave – it is one of the last things we enjoy before getting on the plane home.  For the last five or six years, the last bit of entertainment has been the troop from the local community theatre performing the biggest tunes from operetta.  You may not be aware of this, but Hungary is a hot spot for the form, and although, sadly, not many of them get performed in the States, they are masterpieces of the form – every bit as funny and charming as Gilbert and Sullivan or Strauss.  Z and I always had a task that last evening – to get a table close enough that Peter could see the stage and costumes and all.  He would join us just before the performance began, and for the next two hours or so, he and Z would sing along at the top of their lungs with the crowd and the stage.  Mere words cannot capture the joy he was experiencing in that moment.

Peter has settled down now.  His ashes are in the family crypt in Kishegyes.  But as long as we hold onto his memory and tell his story, he still will be a gypsy in the world. 

If you think about it, please throw a buck or two at the Cancer Society in his name when you next get a chance - they do good work over there.

Because I hate ending this post on words – here is a medley of the operetta tunes as performed by a friendly accordion player at the wine fest last week  (because Blogger is stupid that way, you'll have to go over to YouTube).  Peter was, I’m sure, singing along.

YouTube Video of our Accordion Friend

6/19/2015 - Keszthely

Dave enjoys a Jetlag Recovery Wine
at the Downtown Fest in Kesztheky.

Today is a jet-lag recovery day.  I don’t know how you do it, but I do it by driving the Mighty Opel so the ladies can go shopping.  This is followed by one of Vera’s swell meals, a nap, a little blogging, and a trip to the Downtown Keszthely Wine Fest.  This is not to be confused with the Keszthely-Days Wine Fest, or the Keszthely Beach Wine Fest – both of which come later.



Z enjoys a Chardonnay at the Keszthely Fest

Lake Balaton is one of the major wine regions in Hungary.  Rather than producing Tokai or Bull’s Blood, they produce the more traditional Pinot, “Shiraz,” Cabernet, and especially Chardonnay.  We took a leisurely walk downtown and enjoyed several of the really excellent jazz combos performing in the Centrum, followed by some excellent wine produced by our friend Gabor at the Bezerics vineyard.  Z enjoyed a Chardonnay – oaky with a nice fruit flavor, and I had the Shiraz – again a nice balance of oak with the grapes, but very light for a dark red wine.  Most Hungarian wines would fit into the “light” description.  A heavy red, like an Oregon Pinot would be too much for the warmer climates that you get in this region.



Everything is better on a
stick.  That would include
the fish roasted by these folks
over hot coals at the Keszthely
Wine Fest!

As alluded to above, this wine fest is a traveling road show.  There is a fest every weekend throughout the summer somewhere on the north end of Balaton.  The vineyards all have very nice “Food Cart” style trucks, which they move from festival to festival throughout the summer.  If you like to sample wine, this is a great way to make yourself aquatinted with several different local wines – while enjoying some great traditional local food and some really quite excellent music.  The musical theme of this fest is traditionally jazz combos, but the others have large selections of classical and folk music.

Which would be another travel tip – look for the local festivals.  I’ve enjoyed wine and music around the lake now, as well as local beer fests in Germany.  I’ve enjoyed great local food and alcohol.  I’ve heard great local pop bands like the Cimbaliband from Budapest, great classical music from the likes of the principal brass quintet of the Budapest Philharmonic, traditional gypsy bands, and Feurerwehr Bands (“Firehouse band” – or the German Community Band.  They rehearse in their local Firehouse, hence…).  This is a great way to “live like the locals,” and an opportunity to enjoy the local food and culture.  Seeking them out will reward tour efforts.  
 

June 17, 2015 PDX-MSP-CDG-Bud

 
Off again on another adventure.  This year we are forgoing our Canadian friends (eh?) in lieu of Air France (Hah Hah), so I will get to see Paris finally – for 1 hour and 50 minutes!

The obligatory PDX Foot Photo on the new carpet.
Not quite the same, but unique none the less.
What do you think?

Air France (Har Har? – I’ll figure out how to spell it later.  For now, just know that you pronounce it as snarkily as possible) partners with Delta in the US.  Delta has an unsavory reputation with musicians, as is evidenced by the many horror stories in the International Musician (the union publication of us musician types).  I’ll be good and reserve judgment.  Trumpet cases are pretty small.

We were picked up this morning by my Mom and Dad.  In what is surely an omen of things to come, traffic is a nightmare in Portland today because a truck full of empty wine bottles crashed on the I-5 Bridge.  That said, if it is an omen, I am not quite sure what to do with it.  Will we break a lot of bottles this year?  Will they only be empty bottles?  Will I forego beer for wine this trip?  Possible.

The obligatory PDX foot shot -
probably one of the last
on the old carpet.

All of this said, we made it across the bridge early enough for breakfast at the Cameo, easily breezed through customs and our security vetting (it is only a "security check” if you travel domestically) and into the waiting area like seasoned pros – which I suppose we are at this point.  I’m enjoying the lack of drama so far!

*****

In the “Karma punishes small sins immediately” department: I typed the above before leaving Portland.  So of course, we “enjoyed” an extra 1.5 hours sitting on the plane in Minneapolis while they “added more fuel” and then “fixed a technical difficulty.”  As we had a 1.5 hour layover in Paris, I wrote off my croissant and looked forward to my run through the airport.

*****

A quick conversation we had as we flew over Minneapolis:

Happy moments on the plane. 
This would be before the "meal" service

Z: “Is that a football stadium.  There’s a game going on.”

D: “No.  That’s a baseball stadium.”

Z: “What is the name of their team, the Vikings?”

D: “That would be the Twins – baseball, remember?”

My wife is a football fan, can you tell?

*****

This was our first flight on Air France, and all I can say is: “eh.”  The announcements about the fuel and difficulties are of the evasive sort that I expect from all airlines anymore.  But they get things going eventually and get you headed in the right direction.  On an international flight, the next thing they want to do is get you fed so they can get you to go to sleep and stop bothering them with requests. 

A travel tip that we have lived by for years: if you must eat airline food, develop a dietary restriction.  Be a vegan, only eat kosher, etc.  The food is freshly prepared, and generally shows a little more effort than the stuff they bring around.  That said: avoid the gluten-free one, it was awful.  You can tell by this that our standards for inflight meals is pretty rock-bottom, but even by this standard Air-France found a way to hit a new low.  Look, I don’t expect a gourmet meal, but at least put a modicum of effort into it.  This is not met by serving me a meal of tortellini and cheese (mac and cheese), a apple sauce cup, a slice of Tillamook Monterey Jack Cheese, a dead roll with butter, and, in an attempt to be futzy, some fresh melon.  In short, the lunch I serve my grandkids.  Breakfast was not much better.  But with a 24 hour day ahead, and an uncertain future ahead on connecting flights, you shudder and attempt to get it down.

Don’t touch your meal on an Air France flight if you would like to have a beverage.  If they look at your tray and see the food gone, they won’t even acknowledge your presence. The bring the “special meals” out before they bring the cattle car around, and so we ate them, as we always do, while they were hot.   It was pretty humorous, then, when the gentleman flight attendant started to ask what we wanted, looked at our tray and saw the completed meals, and briskly turned around.  The “no drinks for you” message received loud and clear.

*****

I have never been to France before.  When you have a short period of time to experience a culture, you have to boil it all down to one thing.  I realize that this is stereotyping, but until I get a chance to visit with more time to look around, it is all I often have time for.  The trick is usually to have a quick culinary experience with something they are noted for.  If I am passing through Germany and only have a few moments, show me where to get a beer.  They do it better than the rest.  One day in Italy – show me to a pizza stand.  Z is still trying to find the cheese-steak sandwich shop in the Philadelphia airport.  I knew we wouldn’t have very much time, and so decided that a croissant would have to stand in for the Paris experience.  I figured this went out the window with the late start.

The Palinka bottle at the
end of the journey!

We touched down at Charles De Gaulle Airport with 50 minutes to spare to make our connecting flight to Budapest.  After taxiing around for 25 minutes and the usual cattle-car deplaning procedure, we had about 15 minutes to make our next flight.  Z and I have a deal that we made several years ago that we do not run through airports anymore.  You almost never make you flight, and all you get out of the experience is sweaty clothes that you get to enjoy through your next flight.  But the flight attendant convinced us that our next flight left just around the corner, so we decided to try for it.  Somewhere in our mad dash down the never ending hallway I think we both realized that there wasn’t a chance in heck of making it, but once started you have to see it through.  It won’t surprise you then to hear that we ran down the hall, cleared passport control, and arrived at our gate – just in time to watch them close the door and tell us we could not board the flight.

For what it’s worth – after waiting in line for an hour to get rebooked, and settling down to rest for a sec, we discovered an e-mail from Air France that they apologized for the delay, and had rebooked us already.  We could have ditched the line and picked them up at the gate.  Oh well…

And the croissant?  They were sold out.  We settled for a baguette.  It was pretty swell.

Remind me never to joke about road issues again!

June 26 – July 2, 2014, Keszthely and

I see it is not just Vancouver where the auto drivers are homicidal maniacs around bicycle riders.  In the parking lot in front of Vonyarcvashegy (or “Vaya Con Dios” if your Hungarian is as lame as mine) I was almost run down four times in today’s outing.  That doesn’t count the pedestrians who ran in front of me and my fellow bike riders who tried to blow me off the path.  It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here folks, and you can’t afford to be timid.

You have to be careful riding or walking on the bike paths in Hungary.  It is legal here for “mopeds” to ride on the path.  Of course, some of these “mopeds” have 500 c.c. engines and the name “Harley Davidson” in large friendly letters on the side.

*****



It's America Month at Aldi!

It is “America” month at the local Aldi store – the sales flyer came today.  This document says that interested Hungarian shoppers may delight in American delicacies like Peanut Butter (smooth and crunchy), frozen “Wraps” and “Chicken Nuggets,” Hamburger and Hot Dog Buns as well as Hot Dogs in a glass jar (You can’t buy white bread “buns” in Hungary at the store, but they have them at McDonald’s), “Frozen Milk Shakes,” and Miller Genuine Draft.  Seems about right to me – except they forgot the “Wings” and the “Pizza” (the latter readily available already).

 

*****

My chores as “chauffeur” this year frequently involve driving the ladies to the local “China” store to shop for “Shoes” and “Clothes.”  In the US, out clothes are made in China and sold to us through corporate middlemen.  In Hungary, they cut the middlemen by having the Chinese sell directly to you, saving you some sheckles.  As a result, the locals all wear the same badly fitting clothing with strange English sayings on the front.  Some examples:

·        U.S. Mershall (sic), Dept. 1976, Miamt, Flarida (sic) – I’m not sure “Miamt, Flarida” is, but I would be careful of the “Mershalls” there.

·        This is my Little Black T-Shirt – on a pink t-shirt

·        If You Want Me I Tell You My Phone Number – ‘nuff said

·        Some Things Never Happen – not a lie, I guess

·        Flick A Man Open of Lonesome – what was that?

·        Atlantic Sanfrancisco – it’s just north of Miamt Flarida, you can’t miss it

Of course, you can make anything more hip at the “China” store by adding the phrase “Of Athletics” or “University” to the front, so:

·        YUES New York of Athletics – Umm, seems a little blatant

·        University of Special Girls – somehow I don’t think I would enjoy this college

·        Athieltcdpt (sic) University Athletic Dept – Huh?

·        Meow University – I don’t think that means what you think it means, fellows

And then, by sheer number, they occasionally get it right:

·        Your Wings Already Exist, All You Have To Do Is Fly – Isn’t that sweet?

·        More Respect Less Attack – words to live by

*****

7/2/14 Pécs

It's "baby" season.
 Z has lots of pictures of blurs like this. 
I think it is supposed to be a stork,
but no promises

We went to the pretty city of Pécs today, but not to sight see.  Peter needs to have some important medical tests performed that they can only do there.  So, once again at the wheel of the Mighty Opel, off we go on the 2 and ½ journey.

I have a challenge for the guys on the BBC TV show “Top Gear.”  I double dog dare you to start at a town in Hungary that is on an Autobahn – say Györ (just because it is going to be the name of my heavy metal band someday).  You get two cars.  One of you only gets to travel on the most direct route to Pécs.  The other only gets to travel the Autobahn.  Who wins?

You need to have this factoid first.  Years ago when they started building Hungary’s modern road system, they decided that “all roads lead to Budapest.”  So to get from Gyor to Pécs, you have to travel several hundred miles out of your way to Budapest first.  And yet, you probably still will win.

The back roads we took from Keszthely to Pécs were easily the best ride I have been on since doing the roller coasters at Knotts Berry Farm.  At 100 KPH I only hit my head on the roof of the car once – and that was wearing a seat belt!

*****

It is what you think it is - yikes!

The hospital in Pécs is in the middle of one of the largest Soviet era “Complexes,” or perhaps “Projects,” I have seen in Europe.  This, of course, makes it a natural as a teaching hospital, and so it is.  While Peter gets his test (“Your radioactivity rate will be very high for the next two days.  Don’t be around any young children.”  Yikes!), he sent us away to have lunch with Angi (whom you met earlier in the blog).

Restaurants in “the Projects” are geared to the large student population nearby.  Prices are low and the quality is acceptable for the simple bar-type fare they sell.  My lunch started with a pretty good vegetarian mushroom soup (it could have used a little more pepper), followed by the Mains of a cabbage salad and a traditional Hungarian dish of, in this case grilled (it is more often breaded and fried), camembert cheese with rice and cranberry preserves.  Z had a traditional bean and sausage soup, followed by the cabbage salad and what she thought would be mac & cheese, but ended up being noodles with scrambled eggs.  She said the soup was good, but the noodle thing needed catchup or something.  Price for the meal was 1150 Ft – about five bucks.  I bet this is a happening place on Friday and Saturday night.

6/21-28/2012: Travels, Keszthely, and Kishegyes

6/21-28/2012: Travels, Keszthely, and Kishegyes

PDX:

I usually take notes for this thing in a hard-bound Moleskine® brand notebook, like wanna-be travel writers everywhere.  I don’t like the soft cover ones, as they get bent and mangled in your pocket.  When we went to Powell’s to buy this year’s edition of “the book,” we found that the only hard-bound version available was the “Star Wars^©” edition.  The first page of this bares the following famous, comforting quote: “I have a bad feeling about this.”  A bad omen indeed for travelers; would that we had listened.  Of course, I discovered this just before they took my trumpet case away for the puddle jumper to Vancouver, B.C.  (Not to worry, no problems occurred in the handling of my trumpet case – read between the lines whatever you wish here!)

*****

Dear American Traveler,

I know you will find this hard to believe, but “last time I checked, Canada is not part of America.”  (It’s true – the Stew told us over the intercom, pretty much just like that, only more rudely!)  As such, yes, you do have to go through customs and fill out their forms – even if you are continuing on to another country from there.  It’s their country; they get to make the rules.  Isn’t that astounding?

Thanks Awfully

And while we are on the topic…

Dear Air Canada Stew-dude,

I know this is not your fist choice of career and that you can hardly wait to retire soon.  I’m sure everyone about four rows back knows this now, too.  This does not, however, excuse you from doing your job, which “last time I checked,” was customer service.  If you can’t suck it up and at least behave in some semblance of politeness, maybe now would be a good time to quit and move to China and get started on that ice hockey school.  I’m sure the kids there will respond as well as your passengers (or current students – I shudder at the thought) to your warmth and charm.  Maybe if you try being a little patient with people who are nervous traveling and in new circumstances and unsure about what they are doing, you might be surprised to find that they treat you nicely and with respect.  The fact you have heard the question a million times on this flight alone does not make it easier for the rooky travelers you are supposed to be helping out through your “competence” and “calm demeanor.”  I know, who knew?

Thanks Awfully.

*****

Several hours, two airports and a couple of bad airplane meals later, and we were in Wien, awaiting our baggage.  Actually, my airplane meals were pretty OK.  It was Z who had problems with them.  We had ordered her “gluten free” meals, as she was eliminating gluten when we were confirming tickets.  She said they were somewhat less than appetizing.  Those were not the words she actually used.  Anyway, baggage…

I had a “bad feeling” about our bags in Vancouver, B.C.  They did not have a confirmation of us continuing on, and had to look us up.  I made the mistake of mentioning a slight concern at this point about our bags arriving with us.  Z says that making the statement at all makes it my fault that, needless to say, the bags did not arrive with us in Wien.  The more likely problem was that our flight from Vancouver to Frankfurt arrived with just enough time for us to make the connecting flight, and the airline folks had to rush us through customs.  I guess our bags don’t run as fast as we do.  The end result is that we left Wien without our bags, but with promises that they would be delivered to Keszthely “by 8:00 tomorrow evening.”

*****

Travel Tip: always pack a change of clothes and a toothbrush in one of your carry-on bags.  I had a back up outfit in Z’s bag, and a shirt and underwear keeping my cornet from sliding around in the travel case, so I was OK for a couple of days.  Z, who had only packed one outfit in her carry-on was a bit pressed when, no surprises here, our luggage did not arrive at the promised “8:00 tomorrow evening.”  Fortunately for us, they did arrive the evening before we left for Kishegyes.  Bonus – we didn’t have to repack.  (Well, yes we did.  We needed to downsize to get everything in the car.)

*****

Sign, seen in a night club window while driving through the Hungarian town of Sopron, halfway between Wien and Keszthely: “Jacuzzi, Spa, Hot Tub, Wellness, Table Dance.”  This is obviously a version of “wellness” that is probably not covered by your health insurance.

*****

Vacation always begins for me in Hungary when Peter throws out the inaugural Palinka when we arrive at their place in Keszthely.  After about 24 hours of traveling in cars and planes and severely dehydrated, it is, as always, a great time to slide into straight shots of my Father-In-Laws’ moonshine.  Three Palinka later and I was feeling no pain.  I had dragged out my Sunday-best Hungarian, and was doing my best to keep up as we were joined by the neighbors from the houses on either side of Peter and Vera.  The doctor from the house on the right, who speaks four languages fluently, tells me that “I must learn to speak Hungarian.”  So much for “Sunday-best.”  I don’t know what he is talking about, though.  Give me a few more Palinka and I’ll be fluent!

*****

The next morning, while eating breakfast on the deck, the following came up in conversation on the deck – it seems that a kindergarten student in Kishegyes had figured out that his substitute teacher was ethnically Hungarian.  He confronts the teacher on the playground and informs her that “someday, when I grow up, I’m going to kill you.  My dad says the only good Hungarian is a dead Hungarian.” 

I am learning that a certain amount of this is hyperbole.  Like all exaggeration, a certain amount of it is based in fact.  That said, as I meet more Serbians, I am less inclined to believe it all at face value.  They want into the EU too badly to allow it to be screwed up by hot-heads.

*****

A couple of days of recovering-from-jet-lag later, and we are in the car on our way to Kishegyes – Z’s hometown.  It is a pretty drive through the plains of Hungary.  This is farm country, and about every mile or so we pass a “Dinnye” (cantaloupe) stand.  After a while, I start to notice that they are all the same.  They have exactly two watermelons and two cantaloupes.  I am sure there is a hidden meaning here somewhere.  I’m probably missing it.

You know how successful your town is in Hungary by the length, in meters, of your town sign.  We pass some real whoppers on the way south-east.  Examples would include: Balatonszentgyörgy, Balatonmáriafürdő, Balatonföldvár, Mezőszilas, Simontornya (where we always stop for coffee and bubbly water) and Kiskunhalas.  You have to imagine seeing all of this strung out on a sign as you fly by at 60 miles per hour.  It is always an adventure.  Of course the losers in the length derby are: Fonyód, Enying, Cece (the locals say this is pronounced “tseh-tseh.”  I still maintain it is “kee-kee”), Solt, and Tompa (or “Tampa” to the smart-aleck American).  These folks are clearly underachievers.

I also enjoyed the radio reporter’s glee while announcing that gas prices in Hungary were going to be lowered to less than $8.00 a gallon (!) for the first time in 6 months.

*****

Regular readers of this blog know that one of the highlights of any trip to Serbia for me is always the trip to the police station to get “registered” so they know where to pick us up if they start pogroms against the outsiders again – I mean, where to find us in case of emergency.  This year, Z, bereft of reason or common sense, decided we were going to march down there without cash or translator, and “make them see the light!”  In her view, if they were planning on joining the EU, they were going to have to learn English (it is the “common language” of the EU).  In her magic universe, this all happened in the last year.  She was not amused when I started laughing at this point.

Needless to say, Officer Incompetent (see the "Registration" entry from last summer) was quick to put her back in her place.  It seems that there was “no one here today that could do this duty.  Oh, and swing by the bookstore and buy the cards you need – surely you know you must do this.”  (Well, no, not last year.  But the arbitrary rules are what make this game so much fun.)  “Come back tomorrow,” he says.  We know all of this through the good services of a nice gentleman who was kind enough to translate for us.  It seems Officer Incompetent has not learned English or Hungarian in the last year – go figure!  I think the bruises on my arm from laughing as we left the police station went away with a couple of days.

Sad to say, the rest went easy.  Peter picked us up the cards at the bookstore and went with us the next day.  It took us 10 minutes to get checked in.

Z has asked me to point out that she did address Officer Incompetent in three languages, English, German and Hungarian, before we had to resort to the nice gentleman translator.  In her view, he was “almost embarrassed” by this point.  I think it is more likely that he had no clue she changed languages but rather had cabbage for lunch.

*****

We had a visit from Kazi-Basci and Sandor-Basci that afternoon – the eighth Palinka of the day sitting in front of me like a time bomb.

The Palinka game in Hungary works like this.  Whenever a new person arrives, a new round is poured.  If the ladies are cooking in the kitchen and miss the initial round, another round is poured.  If you sit at the table for longer than ½ hour, another round is poured.  If someone says the secret work, another round is poured.  You get the idea.

There are two secrets to playing this game and surviving.  The good Hungarian will spot you a bubbly water chaser with every shot.  You will want to drink these.  As swell as the flavor of this stuff is, it will catch up with you very quickly.  So enjoy – then chase!  It is also good to know the magic word.  If it looking like the game is going to go on for a while (say 8 rounds!), if you use the work “kicsi,” they will fill your glass only half way – and no penalty points!  Score!

*****

A new series…

New Inventions in Beer!  Coming soon to a bottle or can near you…

Found on a bottle of Tuborg I enjoyed a couple of days later – a pull-top bottle cap!  No need for a bottle opener!  What will they think of next?

The Tuborg was followed by a new one for me: Sixtus Wheat beer.  Although the label is in German, it proudly brewed by the Sixtus Brewing Company, Warsaw, Poland.  I know what you are thinking, and yes, I guess they do brew beer in Poland – after a fashion.  It looks pils-ish in the glass, light and closer to yellow than gold.  There is no nose to speak of, a little strange for the Wheat’s of this neck of the woods.  The flavor is thin and watery; a little malt followed by an exposure to a hop cone on the front, completely disappearing by the time it gets to the back.  They say it is 4.2 percent, but I would guess less.  A true lawn mower beer.  I’m sure they have lots of lawns in Warsaw.  The can says “best if served between 8°and 10°.”  Maybe that’s it…

*****

We just found out Z’s car got broken into back home (another “bad feeling” moment); continuing a longstanding tradition of car problems while we are over here.  Perhaps we should just start leaving the deductable on the fridge when we leave.  Although there is nothing we can do until we get a phone in Hungary, Z is on her way down to Emmese’s to use “The Facebook” and find out what happened.

6-25

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.

8/10/2008, Bayreuth, Vilseck

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!

7/26/2008, Keszthely to Vilseck

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...

7/12/2öö8, Lenti and Hevís

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.

7/02/08 Round Two!

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…

8/15 Keszthely, the adventure ends...

We took a drive around the lake yesterday. Seems like an easy thing to say, but this is a several hour undertaking. By the time you add the stops in, it takes all day. So again, with Dave at the wheel, off we go.

First stop was "Beautiful Lookout," which sounds much better in Hungarian (Szep Kilato (Szhape kill-AH-toe), in case you were wondering). A panoramic view of the western end of the lake that was beautiful. Isn’t it nice when the name matches up with the reality?

Several miles down the road was the treat in our drive. Tihany announces its presence from the road with a glimpse of the twin towers of the church, seen just barely over the hill. A drive up a hill and you are treated with the view of the Baroque wonder, needless to say our first stop.
A small fee (naturally) gets you in. The tour starts in the sanctuary of the church. It is very ornate, without being rococo. Lots of fancy statuary and ceiling painting - look, you know exactly what I am talking about if your high school history class covered the Baroque, and if not, go look it up right now. Words are not going to describe the splendor of this. It’s pretty cool.

From there the tour leads into the catacombs below. There you find the grave of the only political figure to survive the historical "reconstruction" of the communist rule. King Andrew the First was the fourth king of Hungary (1047-1060), and was a direct descendant of Arpad, the guy who founded the country. From there the tour continues through several lower rooms covering the turbulent history of the church, monastery, and region. Balaton was on the border for a lot of the wars with the Turkish Empire, and as a result the history of this region is pretty bloody. Combine that with the period of Communist rule, where the Catholic religion was "discouraged," and you find it a pretty interesting read (and the plaques are in English, so you can!). From there you move into an art museum, with works by famous local artists. As always, some of these are things that leave you wondering "what were they on?" and some of these are so moving that you find it difficult to tear yourself away.

Moving behind the church you find a stunning view of the eastern portion of the lake. It is very Mediterranean looking, with a couple of ferry boats, and lots of sail boats. On our lightly cloudy day the water was a brilliant blue. It was a nice place to "just be" for a minute and reflect on the church and art.

Tihany is famous for a blue type of enamel for pottery. Needless to say that tourists have ample opportunity to obtain some of this pottery for a small fee as you travel back to your car (if you don’t mind spots of white or a really weird cartoon cow on the side. We took a pass. I am sure that there is an artisan in the area that doesn’t manufacture for tourists, but we did not have time to find them).

From Tihany, we moved down the hill to Balatonfured for lunch. We ate at a nice Ettrem on the side of the pier, so you could watch the idiots in the sail boats come in and leave. It is the kind of place that are McMineman’s on the Columbia aspires to be, but will never pull off. Zia had a bean soup that is famous in the region. Beans, smoked ham hock, and smoked Hungarian kolbas. She says it was to die for. I had a zucchini, stuffed with freshly chopped and sautéed vegetables. I don’t know that I would die for it, but it was pretty darned good. We hung out there for a bit and enjoyed the view, then onward.

The rest of the trip was by car, without stops - well, we did stop and buy Zia a new dirndl. The weather turned on us in the afternoon, and our pretty sunny day turned to rain, only a quick shower, but, as it was late, on to home we went.

It is a very pretty drive. If you get here, I highly recommend it.


*****


Today was another trip to Hevis to show the new house guests the spa, so that they could take the tour. Vera went with us, which was fun as she is pretty hard to get out of the house. Zia and Vera had a good time shopping, and I had a good time razzing them. A nice lunch, and then home for a nap. Hey, I gotta save up, vacation ends soon. ( Dave was bought the Tourist Vest , he forgot to mention !!!! )


*****


In reviewing the journal entries of this trip, I find myself thinking that we should probably change the name to "A Cynics Guide to Hungary and Serbia." I assure you, however, that you are really missing something by not coming to visit this beautiful place. The scenery is fantastic, the people amazingly nice, it is a great place to vacation. My cynicism, I think, comes from my frustration and anger with myself for not being better able to communicate, and for not being better prepared for culture and customs. Obviously, I have my homework set out for me.

My thanks to Lali and Adrianna, Feri and Ani, Lajos and Bori, Emese, Joe and Adam, Beethoven-Basci and Mozart-Neni, Kazi-Basci and Zsuzsa-Neni, Kiskazi, Zsuzsa, Klaudia, Gabie and Csbi, Gabor and Rita, the guests from Germany, Mega-Magdi, the nice folks at the news stand who provide me with my English newspaper fix, the many "ice" vendors in Serbia and Hungary who provided us with the all-important gelato fix, and all the people I am probably forgetting, for sharing your country, and more importantly your culture with me. Most importantly, thanks to Peter and Vera, my Inlaws, for opening your home to this wacky American guy, and producing a Zia that I could marry. And thanks to my lovely bride for showing me "home."


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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

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"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