Life is still as hectic, if not more, than before. Some of it is my own making, others not.
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| Sunset in the back garden |
The first two days in the village were pretty peaceful. It started getting very cold again, but we didn't feel like covering up the roses or firing up the stove. Both of us are still quite tired from all that flu and the colds, so we just stayed indoors and recuperated.
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| Sunday dinner of just veg + Yorkshire pudding |
On Friday, however, I had a concert in town and Roy decided that he would stay put. Very sensible decision, also a necessity this time, as we had 10 friends coming to stay in the Bunkhouse for their annual get-together of hiking, eating and drinking. One of them arrived a bit before I left on the last bus and Roy ended up entertaining him until the rest of them arrived sometime between 6 and 7 on Friday night. As it happens, Mikrobi collects stamps, so they had something in common which didn't make for too heavy use of either English or Hungarian.
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| János Balázs |
The concert was quite strange. János Balázs is an excellent pianist who this time, and in order to honour the memory of György Cziffra, chose to play the exact same program that Cziffra did in 1962 on his BBC concert in England. It was fantastic, but both Bozsa and I felt that his speed, especially playing the Chopin pieces, was far too fast. It was as if he got carried away with both the speed and the loudness of his playing to the detriment of the quality of the sound and the otherwise excellent interpretation of his music.
I was on the 7.20am bus the following morning to get back home before our visitors surfaced. As it was Saturday, the bus left half an hour later than normal, but the main bonus was the lack of having to change en route. A direct bus is always preferable, no matter how clapped out the actual vehicles are. (Which they are!!)
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| Balázs, Miki, Vöcsök and Janó by the andesite columns |
The guys were great fun. They tried to make Roy drink all the time of the day, so we taught them the word "yardarm", which they now know very well, having given up forcing alcohol down Roy's face before 12 noon. There was 9 of them plus one that was to meet them in the hills when they went to visit the areas of the forest where Janó plans to extend the orienteering map. Afterwards they returned via the mountain chapel and stages of the cross above a neighbouring village. Except the cooking contingent, which arrived home earlier than the rest, so that when the rest of them turned up their food was good and ready. I, on the other hand, didn't accompany them, as I knew they would go too far and too fast for me. In fact, due to having to get up at 5am, I dropped off for about 3 hours in the late afternoon, but that set me up for a long chat with them until about midnight later. Great guys, interesting and fun to be with, so I was happy.
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| A spooky church in a spooky cemetery |
Still back on Saturday night I discovered that one of the moving caches was placed very close to us, so on Sunday morning and long before anyone else was up, I quickly drove over to the village where it was and fetched it before breakfast. As I was planning a bit more geocaching before the year was out, I thought I would place it while doing that later on in the week or month. After breakfast, 4 of the guys decided to walk up to the andesite outcrop and I decided to go with them. It was a delightful hike, not particularly long (about 5km), but the views were gorgeous in spite of the darkish, cold and windy weather. As soon as we got home, they started to depart and I went with one of them into town for another concert, saving me the uncomfortable journey by bus.
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| The compulsory, "on the top of the andesite", photo |
The real trauma of the day started the minute I got into the flat. I noticed, even before I opened the front door, that there was a really loud sound of pouring water. It came from the tiny toilet next door to us where we heard that noise before, but not recently. The loo serves the kebab shop in the building, which being Sunday was closed. Obviously, in spite of repeated requests of not wasting water or endanger the properties on either side, they either did not repair the cistern, or did so insufficiently well for the repair to last. After this came a tragic farce that seems to confirm that trouble is never alone, in fact it goes in at least threes.
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| One of many glorious views from the top |
As soon as I tried to call the management agent I found that the SIM card on my mobile phone has either stopped working or got dislodged. Unfortunately, this is a phone I can't get into, so there I was, in distress and without a mobile phone. I tried to ring a friend on the landline to get in touch with the management agent, who then proceeded to request ME!!! to go down into the cellar, find the correct water pipe that serves the loo and turn it off. She said it was either 14,15 or 16. My arthritic fingers struggled valiantly, but I couldn't manage to close 15, to see if that was the culprit's pipe, as it was broken. I was running up and down, checking if the noise went, when I realised that Roy keeps a toolbox and perhaps a set of pincers would help. Next door's husband turned up in the yard and I asked him to help as well, so between us we managed to turn everything off and the noise still wouldn't go away. At this point the guy said: "Isn't it that one with the little wheel on the meter going round like there was no tomorrow?" Now, why didn't I think of that? Mind you, that was pipe number 12, so I wasn't looking that way, and it was rather dark down there with that single, very low wattage bulb swinging at the other end of the corridor.
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| Ernő Kállai |
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| Dóra Kokas |
Anyway, finally I managed to get rid of the sound of the pouring water, although then had to spend the rest of the day hiding from the lynchmob of all flat owners/tenants who then found that they didn't have any water supply. Those pipes, unfortunately, serve more than one flat in the block. Also - and here comes the third disaster - I couldn't find my concert tickets and as Bozsa's ticket was also with mine, that would have been really embarrassing. After a certain amount of frantic searching and panic, I decided that this was getting far too ridiculous, so sat down, calmed down and came up with some suggestions where they might be. One of them turned out to be right and all was well again. What I have learnt was that you have to stop panicking and also start lateral thinking to include most places, no matter how unlikely. As it happens, I found them in my purse, which while not a typical place where I keep concert tickets, was not altogether very unlikely.
The concert was pretty good. It was the second of four, with the title "Discoveries". Basically, the orchestras are not very well known and the soloists are either beginners or very young. It was the turn of the Debrecen Philharmonic this time with soloists: Dóra Kokas and Ernő Kállai. The first was a stunningly pretty, blond young woman, just out of the Academy, playing Elgar's chello concerto like a seasoned pro. She was delightful and brilliant. The violinist, playing a Sibelius Violin Concerto, was not so impressive, but that judgement might be my bias, as having become very fond of Kristóf Baráti, I tend to set my expectation unfairly high. Once your definition of a good violinist is called Kristóf Baráti, nobody is a good violinist any more.
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| A brooding, winter skyline in the Mátra |
After all this I decided that I deserve a bit of peace and quiet in the countryside, so Monday got scheduled for a small hike in the Mátra mountains en route home to the village, in order to catch up with another moving cache, plus a permanent one, as well as giving me a chance to place the one from Sunday morning. The theme of that one is that it has to go somewhere spooky. It is usually placed in cemeteries, which is where I fetched it from, but where I was planning to go was a place where the image of the Virgin Mary appeared several times in front of a simple peasant woman in the 1940's, so that seemed eminently suitable for the spooky one to be placed near.
I caught the bus at 7:10am and was there by 10:23am. The little village in the forest had a really nice pilgrimage place that grew up around the 1940's sighting. Found both caches quickly, placed the one from Sunday there and got going with the other one that had to be moved. That one is called a bikers' cache, although one can move it on foot as well. The weather got darker and colder all the time, so I managed to move somewhat quickly to keep myself warm. I put it at the foot of a tree, hidden by rocks and from there the views were absolutely gorgeous. It was very overcast, which made it even more dramatic, so that seemed a good background.
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| A passing forestry truck laden with timber |
I managed to get down to the nearest town quite quickly, only to find that I had nearly 4 hours of waiting time for the bus to get me home. Tried to ring Roy, but he was out in the garden burning walnut leaves and he usually guards fires just in case they get out of hand and burn something down. Finally, I talked to him, but he declined to drive all the way there (about half an hour) and made me wait until 5pm. So, first I went to our favourite restaurant in that town and ignoring my sandwiches had roast trout with parsley potatoes and a cabbage salad. It was gorgeous. Oh, and a glass of dry white wine, as I didn't have to drive, which is rare.
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| The pilgrim's church in the forest |
Then I went and did a little food shopping, tried the Library, but it was closing in 15 minutes by the time I got there, so the rest of the time was spent in the waiting room at the railway station which is right next to the bus station. While still back at the restaurant, I managed to log all my finds and the new location of the moving cache I placed, which was due to the availability of WiFi in the restaurant. Dreadfully boring being without one's mobile and not having a paper or a book to read. It was really tedious hanging around without those facilities.
However, the biggest upset for me that day was the state of the bloody bus I finally caught at 5pm. These must be clapped out rejects from Austria or Germany with no suspension, which those countries won't use any more, they are that dangerous, and which are then bought by enterprising persons in places I will not mention, in order to shake the living daylights out of you on the delightful roads in these parts. In the first 15 minutes or so I managed to have a nap, because then it was on a brand new dual carriageway without potholes. However, as soon as it got to the "normal" roads, there was no more sleeping. In fact, it got so bad that by the time I got home I had full blown motion sickness with a tummy ache and a headache. Never again!!!
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| Drumsticks for Roy, salmon for me with all the trimmings |
Other news from this past week includes some lovely lunches and some truffels that I made to use up an old half carton of cream from going off. As we might miss our usual Christmas fare by staying in the village (which we are considering at this stage) we started making steak and salmon lunches with wine and truffles, which went down a treat. There are still some truffles left, so I think I am off to raid the fridge any minute to partake of one or two.
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| Langur monkeys in Jodhpur, India |
On the TV front, unfortunately, Planet Earth II has just finished and I am sad. The most incredible footage about the living world shot anywhere surely belongs to those brilliant guys from the BBC Natural History Unit in Bristol. I am only sad that if and when they come back with another series, it might not be accompanied by the dulcet tones of David Attenborough. At 90 he is still sprightly and altogether undiminished in the intellectual stakes, but if it takes another 10 years to come up with another series, he should be 100 by then. Still, who knows, he looks and sounds indestructable, so it might happen!
And finally, we had another annoyance these last few days, but thankfully that has been sorted (so we hope!). Normally Roy's cefre for his palinka goes to the still in November, December or even the following January, like it did this year. So when recently I tried to have a word with Pali, who usually takes it and makes the arrangements with the local distillery, he told me that he had taken everybody's weeks ago and why didn't I tell him? I got really angry. He's been doing this for years. Once there is a material change, shouldn't it have been him who told us that he was taking it early? I think he got my message how upset I was, because apparently he had arranged with the distiller to open up again after Christmas and do just ours. We'll see if that's true, if it isn't, that'll definitely be the end of yet another beautiful friendship!!