We have just got back from Monoszló when I realised that nothing will happen with the Zalaegerszeg trip with DFRi and Pilis50, so we decided to decamp down to the village. We weren't planning to stay for long, so we didn't shop for too much food, but mowing the grass was still a necessity, as it had grown considerably.
One interesting event during our short stay in the village was a really nice young woman, suddenly turning up at our gate and introducing himself as Rosa. She has apparently heard of us from a friend of Zsuzsa Schabedly, whom I have not seen or heard of for decades, rather than years. After a good chinwag she invited us for lunch and we had a brilliant time with her and her boyfriend Barnabás. She has an English father and a Hungarian mother and grew up in the South of England. She is trying to buy the house they are renting at the moment, but the price-tag of 10 million is a bit too much for them. She cooked a delightful vegan pie with a gorgeous veg soup before it and I was very sorry to leave at the end. We will invite them to dinner as soon as we are back to the village, as this is a friendship I will enjoy cultivating.
 |
| En route to the top of the hill |
On Saturday I came into town as I had the geocaching AGM, which as a moderator I felt obliged to attend. Needless to say that I was the only moderator there, but at least I met Mariann and could give her a lift at the end to her transport back to her home. She is being very busy organising all sorts of outings, the first two being: 1. to an uninhabited island in the middle of the Danube, 2. to the middle of the Balaton, both having caches, which can't be got too easily. She is a wizard at organising and lobbying. It was she who got me elected as a moderator by lobbying among her friends and then getting them lobbying their friends to vote for me. Amazing woman, and an extremely lovely friend.
 |
| Golgotha near a fishing lake |
Talking of friends, there has been a falling out in my geocaching life, in which originally I thought I was the guilty party, but by now I think I was the victim. A friend with whom I have been caching on and off for a couple of years, submitted a cache for moderation. I voted "not yet", as I felt there were a few weaknesses that needed attention, but I made it clear that after correcting those I will vote for acceptance. I was polite, explaining exactly what I was querying and his response was an outraged private e-mail accusing me of all manner of things. I tried to be measured in my response, apologised for any offence I might have caused and his next response was further accusations. At which point I pointed out that there is no more to be said and that was that.
 |
| The old rectory |
 |
| The chapel on the hill |
Until today, that is. When I had another outraged communication, but this time from Mariann, who pointed out that he has gone caching with another, by now ex-friend of both of us, whom he also had a bit bust up with and swore to all and sundry to never to talk to again. In fact, I was acting as his best friend and free psychiatrist for at least 5 or 6 months last year, when he regularly rang me on the phone to vent about this woman, for 1 to 1 1/2 hours at a time. I was frequently close to telling him to get over it and move on, but thought I would listen to his woes, that might help him to achieve peace and move on.
 |
| En route home Saturday afternoon |
The last thing I expected was that they made up and love blossoms between them yet again, but then I realised that this bloke obviously knows only two types of "friends": 1. those he loves and 2. those he hates. No woolly, liberal middle ground whatsoever. The movement between types is quite frequent and irrational to boot. Mariann was outraged, but I just had a wry smile and accepted that his character just about fitted this model. The only thing I can now think that the major reason behind this make up is their shared hatred of me and now that woman is listening to me being slagged off when they cache together with delight I should think. My mum had a favourite saying, which roughly translates like this: "God's zoo is rather large!" Amen!
 |
| Ducks taking off |
 |
| Dog and master by the stream |
After the AGM I went caching on my own, as I had the car and Roy was going to follow me on Sunday by bus. He had to stay, as we had 13 orienteers staying in the bunkhouse overnight, attending a nearby orienteering event. There were two caches where I wished he was with me, as the areas where I would have had to leave the car didn't look safe. So those two were scrapped, but I found the rest. I saw a cute little chapel, where I had to climb up a post to get to the box. I also went to a spur where there was a pretty view of mountains, forests and valleys, climbed a steep hill to yet another spectacular view and a few more.
 |
| Clearing in the park |
On Sunday I went out again, but that time I had the additional challenge of not having a GPS. It got left behind dangling from the back of a chair. I decided to try and use my smartphone and it turned out to be a pretty accurate GPS substitute, showing me the route all the way to the cache, which was next to a stream in a strange, wild park type place. The next cache was right next to the airport, so the phone was no use, as the aircraft navigational gadgetry totally fouled up its bits. I turned to my museum piece of an old TomTom from the car and this time that one worked like magic too. I was standing right on the co-ordinates and could see nothing. Thankfully I looked down and spotted a drainage hole under my feet. It was down that, which I don't think a good idea, especially not in a downpour. Still, the weather was good and every 5 minutes or so there was a very loud roar, which signalled the passing of a large aircraft coming in to land just a few metres above my head. Very exciting, especially that they very rarely land from this direction, as the standard wind patterns usually make them use the other end of the runway. So this day was chalked up to be the first (and hopefully the last) event of caching without a GPS, as well as playing at plane spotting with some success.
 |
| The stream |
By the time I got home, Roy was there, which was reassuring, as I never like to leave him for any length of time. The next three days were built around three concerts, all of which were (and will be) really great. The first and third are of classical music, the middle one of popular music, which I don't normally support, but enjoyed all the same.
 |
| A Qatar Airlines plane aboe my head |
Monday was a concert on the program of my subscription ticket to the Palace of the Arts. Grigory Sokolov treated us to his brilliance, this time playing Beethoven and Brahms. I think this one will be remembered by the SIX encores he gave. I thought we'd never get home.
Tuesday was the pop concert by a delightful young man by the name of Attila László. He plays the piano pretty well and sings nicely too. However, what really sold me the whole evening was his personality, which was charming. He is 22 years old, very handsome and is from Transylvania, all of which endeared him to his obsessional followers, one of which is my friend who talked me into going. I think the young man has tremendous potential, but would need a good singing coach and a professional manager to help him reach the heights he is capable of. I hope he gets them, because showbiz is a dog eats dog world, and you can't do it on your own, no matter how talented you are.
 |
| The old aeroplanes open-air museum |
 |
| László Attila, the young genius |
The third concert will be tonight where I am going with Ági and David, who managed to get tickets at the last minute. Barnabás Kelemen and Kristóf Baráti are playing works for two violins. Those of you who regularly read this blog know how I feel about Kristóf Baráti, ie. he could stand up and the read the telephone directory and I would go and hear him through, The other guy is also good, but not as good as he is, however the two of them together should be an evening to remember.
 |
| An old MALEV tail fin |
On that high note I will leave you and love you. Next post probably next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment