Langos and Mojitos

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We awoke this morning and I had definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bunk. After the mess up with the room I was definitely missing the en-suite we were supposed to have after an hour wait for the bathroom I was not impressed.
After some sulking I noticed the shining sun and after so much rain all traces of bad mood evaporated. I slung on my bikini and stepped out into glorious sunshine and we made our way to the lake.
The lake was huge. Annoyingly we had to pay to go onto the artificial beach, but it wasn't too bad up we paid up and weaved through the mass of German, Austrian and Hungarian tourist to find a good spot to set up camp for the day. When the heat reached its peak we slunk into the Lake for a cooling swim. We had to descend some rickety step slick with seaweed to dip our toes into the freezing water, but once in we were surrounded by mountains and endless greenery from all sides.
Once we had cooled off it was time to investigate the tourist feeders that were in the small resort. So far we had been lucky when it came to ordering food, everywhere had an english menu or at least words we recognized, but for the first time we where completely stumped. The menu was only in Hungarian or German so we had a look round to see what everyone else was eating. It seemed everyone was ordering huge pizza like breads filled with mayonnaise and cheese so after a pointing and gesturing session with the guy into the booth me and Stuart order our very first Langos.
The Langos were greasy bready dough that would make a good hangover treat but on a normal day it laid heavy in my stomach and need a good dose of sun and sleep to return to normal. As the sun began to set we headed home for a comforting meal of chicken paprika and some cheap wine. The hostel was providing some traditional Hungarian folk music so we decided to treat ourselves to some Mojitos, sexy mint and cuban rum cocktails. The barman spent a long time perfecting our drinks, checking the taste, swishing the mixer through the air until he deiced they were just right. As he passed as our drinks the manager came over to the bar and told us our drink were on the house for the room mix up, the barman wasn't too impressed as I think he was expecting a tip.
As the evening drew to a close we crept up to bed for a good night sleep.
However there was little chance of this as the hostel was also the village bar and the music carried well into the morning. On top of this some Austrian across the hall thought it was utterly hilarious to knock on their friends door every-time he fell asleep. Eventually Stu told them where to go and we got some sleep
Laura
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