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Published: October 6th 2008
We spent a few days in Pecs and on a farm outside of Pecs in a town of 280 called Kiskassa. Pecs was far more relaxed than Budapest and when we first got there we sat on some benches outside a church near some fountains and snacked on salami and bread, checking out the scene. It is like a very touristy version of Cambridge to Budapest's Boston. In Budapest we went to the baths to relax (an amazing experience); here we could just look around.
Pecs is more tourist friendly - more people speak English, it is compact and fairly cheap (gyros are half the price of those in Budapest). We met a backpacker from Missouri named Scott who gave us a map and pointed us in the direction of the bus station after telling us about his extensive travels - he began in January in St Petersburg, learned Russian and has been on the move since. When he runs out of money he will fix ships in Spain and keep moving - he plans to be home in 2010. Most of the travellers we meet seem committed to doing this long term, we feel a little wimpy.
I've noticed that in most Hungarian bars we go to I am the only female beside the server. If there is another woman, she is usually over 50. It was true in Pecs too, and we get extra stares because our gigantic bags take up about half of whichever tiny village bar we decide to settle in. But they have wonderful beer - we really like Szalon (.5 liters for $1.50) and no one bothers us. They have at least one gambling machine in each bar as an extra source of revenue I suppose. Hungarians, and I suspect Eastern Europeans in general, don't make much distinction between cafes and bars. Their coffee is generally so bad any bartender could make it - it is all an excuse to sit around.
We waited unneccessarily in line for an hour to get the bus to Kiskassa (it turned out to be a public transportation bus, you didn't have to buy the ticket ahead). Then we got off the bus a stop too early (there are no signs) but the bus driver stopped the bus and motioned for us to get back on. Our WWOOFing hostess, Eva, met us and walked with us back to the tradtional 18th century houses they live in and rent. Her husband Alan is from Manchester and they lived there before moving to Kiskassa 3 years ago. We had a wonderful time with them, discussing all sorts of things, learning a bit about organic farming and Hungary.
The night we came happened to be the night that the only bar in town was reopening. It had shut down two years ago because the town could not support it, but the rent on the place was free because no one wanted it, so they gave it another shot. We of course wanted to go with them to the party, and it was quite an experience. We walked into the smoky small room and the first thing we noticed, in the corner, was a large bald guy in a red Reebock shirt on a keyboard on a stand. It was programmed to play certain techno songs and he would sing Hunarian folk tunes over it - a popular genre of music here. Many people from the town were there and they were all pretty excited. Interesting couples danced together on the floor, and a mix of old and young mingled. One man came up to our group of four and shook the hands of Jan and Alan, ignoring Eva and myself. We stayed for about two hours, and near the end a man approached Jan and, as Alan translated, he offered him ten goats for me for the night. He bargained upward as Jan and I declined, finally offering twenty goats and two sheep. Luckily Jan decided to keep me though he was intrigued by the idea of having some goats around. At one point he said something to Alan about "the English girl," to which Alan replied, "she's American." My suitor answered, "I don't mind!"
More on Kiskassa, our train journey, and then Zagreb soon!
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Cathy
non-member comment
Goats!
Your experiences are like going back in time! It seems you are going places where time has stood still and people's personalities can come to the forefront.