Patriotic sorrow

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The food hasn't really improved. What they like best over here is lukewarm pork or turkey done in various styles, with pickled cabbage and dumplings.

I make a mental note to tell Zoltan to get himself out here: he's looking for a girlfriend, and the girls of Eger are stunning. (Bridget adds that he could smarten himself up a bit, starting with that grey fleece he wears all the time.)

Yesterday, as we started our walk at the little station of Egeresvolgy-Varrohaz, one member of our party spotted a sign saying Beware Of Wolves. Later, in the woods, we came across some still-tended war graves, one of them that of Horst Orstenburg who was pursued and killed by the Russians in 1944. Apparently the nearby town of Miskolc was an important centre for Nazi armaments production.

Today we ride a little tourist train once used to carry logs down the hill. The crew look like my initial image of Hungarians, stout chaps with big moustaches and mullets, wearing greasy suits. What did they do in a previous life (i.e. before 1989)? Maybe they worked for the secret police.

Other interesting facts about Hungary:

1. Hungarian is related to only one other known language: Finnish (another gloomy bunch, if the truth be told).

2. Hungary used to be 3 times its current size. It was reduced after backing the Germans twice in 20th century world wars, and one gathers that the Hungarians are still a bit resentful - they have an expresssion honfibu, meaning 'patriotic sorrow', which not only makes Hungarians somewhat glum but also contributes to one of the world's highest suicide rates.

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Photos

The grave of Horst Orstenburg
Orstenburg was killed by the Russians

In the woods
Bridget following the track