Hungarian road trip (2): Parádsasvár to Nyíregyháza

For once in my hotel life, I was ready for breakfast before it was ready for me. Parádsasvár goes to bed early and wakes up late! Breakfast didn’t start until 9.15!

IMG_3412

Fully fortified and laden with crystal, we set off on the road to Nyíregyháza…a journey of about 190km, without detours! One of the best things about road trips is being able to stop whenever and wherever you fancy. My shout was for the National Memorial Park at Recsk. It was here, between 1950 and 1953, that the Bolshevik dictatorship’s death-labour camp operated, far from public eye. When Stalin died, Nagy Imre closed the camp (he, himself, was later executed by the Communist government). It’s a strange place. Very simple. You can clearly see the foundations of the barracks and the kitchens,  and some of the original barbed-wire fence still exists. There is one barracks standing (I think it’s a replica, as from what I gather, the original camp was completely destroyed – the physical evidence disposed of). Although the exhibit is in Hungarian, you don’t need to understand the language to imagine what must have gone on there. Wolf Pangloss has some interesting stuff to say about it on his blog. And it all went on, just 5 km outside the town. Robbie Burns had it right when he spoke about man’s inhumanity to man.

Duly chastened, we continued on to Mezőkövesd, home to Bóri Kis Jankó, Hungary’s answer to Grandma Moses. For nearly 80 years, she stitched her famous ‘100 roses’ patterns and now, in the Hudas district of the town, other artisans display their work and demonstrate their crafts. Legend has it that, one winter, the devil kidnapped a Mátyó lad. When his girlfriend begged the devil to send her boy back, he agreed but only on condition that she swapped him for her apron and a flower (mmmm….interesting…the going rate for a man in those days!) The devil thought he was being clever as flowers are in pretty short supply in this area in winter. But the girl was smart; she embroidered a rose on her apron and got her man back.  The traditional costume of the region still includes an apron with a rose (for both lads and lasses). Why doesn’t this sort of stuff still happen?

IMG_3442

Anyway, this collection of thatched and whitewashed cottages houses the best of traditional craftwork in the Mátyó region. The thatch is different to what we have in Ireland – more of a hollowed-out reed. Interesting. The detail is really something, though, in everything…even down to the carved wooden gates! I was particularly taken with Tibor Fehér’s ceramic bells and have added one to my travel tree. KG was in her element, her being in the business and it was impressive watching her talk with the embroiderers in Hungarian. We were half-expecting to see some old dears sitting outside, cross-stitching in the sun but we were out of luck. One reason to go back – another would be the pizza! If you ever find yourself there, and hungry… go to Pizza 6  on Szomolyai u. 3. Am salivating at the thought of it.

After all that lovely traditional culture, we ran slap bang into another sort of culture as we drove into Nyíregyháza. Me being a rugby fan, KG having little obvious interest in sport, and the region’s expert on all things soccer was in India, the chances of our knowing that Ferencváros were playing Nyíregyháza (soccer) that evening were non-existent. We were circumnavigating the city (the seventh-largest city in Hungary) trying to find our panzió when we ran into two busloads of FV supporters being ‘escorted off the premises’ by riot police…scary-looking chaps in kevlar vests, helmets, brandishing semi-automatics! At least, given the state of them, I hope they were being taken away from the match rather than being escorted to the stadium. The convoy crossed in front of us and it was like watching a particularly nasty movie. Some (?) FV fans are ultra-right-wing, violent racists – young kids and grown adults, boys and girls, men and women – whom you wouldn’t want to meet in daylight, let alone in a dark alley. (I met the lovely Kriza Bóri recently, who directed Dübörög a nemzeti rock, a documentary that scared me shitless. Her interviews with the FV fans made my blood run cold. How such mindless hatred can exist is beyond me.) Once the convoy passed, we motored on and again, ended up in the middle of it – this time nearer the stadium (The signposting in Nyíregyháza is woeful.) Driving slowly up a crowded street, a couple of opposing fans were doing a Siege of Ennis  advance/retire across the road in front of our car. At one retire, we passed through. In the rearview mirror, I saw a chap guy take off his belt, wrap it around his fist so that the buckle swung free and then launch himself across the road. All hell broke loose. These lads were old enough to know better. The car behind us had a front-row seat.

We eventually found our hotel… a small 26-room affair billed as a ‘former communist retreat’ – Ózon – near to Sóstófürdo. It was rather lovely. In a country where customer service hasn’t really caught on, this place has it in spades. They couldn’t have been nicer and the food… my God, the dinner I had is up there on the top 10 meals in Hungary… and high up there… No. 3 spot!!!! Before dinner though, we headed up the road to Sóstófürdo to the salt lake, which wasn’t really salty. But the thermal baths were a peculiar shade of green though… a nice way to start the evening after a long, hard day on the road! And yes, there is a soccer God…. FV were beaten 3-1 by the home crowd. Nice one!

It was another early night. Hungary has a zero-tolerance approach to drinking and driving so not as much as a chocolate liqueur or a spoonful of sherry trifle is advised. We could have left the car at home and walked, but then we thought it prudent not to wander the streets that particular night. Anyway, I was knackered: I remember as a child asking my dad why he was tired – all he had done was drive all day!

Share:

Sign up here to get an email whenever I post something new.

Never miss a post

Give stories, not stuff.

Do you need to find a gift for a traveling loved one? The best gifts are experiences. Stories and memories last far longer than ‘stuff’. Try Tinggly for thousands of great experiences and gift ideas.

More Posts

Staying local at Kányavári sziget

We dream of islands in the sun. Exotic places where we can get away from it all. We spend hundreds if not thousands of whatevers

Small copper still behind a bottle of HUM 58 gin

Vis, Croatia: A reason to visit

We’ve not been to Vis. Not yet. We’re going, though. Sometime. We want to visit the farthest inhabited island off the Croatian coast with a

Bunce Island, Sierra Leone

I’m big on bearing witness to history. The slave market in Zanzibar left a lasting impression and I was expecting something similar at Bunce Island.

Tasso Island, Sierra Leone

Tasso Island is one of the islands that dot the Sierra Leone River Estuary. Home to a relatively new ecotourism project, its beach-side chalets and

Kabala, Sierra Leone

The distance by road from Freetown to Kabala is about 300 km. The drive took more than 5 hours. Some of the road is good,

One Response

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

One Response

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.