प्रकाशित: 18.09.2020
Sunday, 8/12/2018
Route: Donau Bike Path 4 (Apostag - Szegszard)
Distance traveled: 95 km
Highlight of the day: the woman with the stroller, the room with German TV program, the neighboring table at the restaurant, open store on Sunday
The day started early again, we left at quarter to 8 because we didn't have breakfast, except for a few pretzels and cookies. Contrary to all expectations, the abc coop grocery store, which is everywhere, was open in Apostag on Sunday morning. And there were people inside! There is definitely never much going on there. So we stocked up on energy bars and lunch items and then really started. We rode on lightly trafficked roads, the temperature was quite pleasant. We pedaled along, the kilometers passing effortlessly. At first, we rode mostly on embankment paths, with endless cornfields on the left and strips of forest on the right, about 30-50m behind that were more fields. At the beginning, there was a witch on the side of the road, with a broom, on a traffic sign. At some point, we accidentally took a small detour, but through the forest, which was nice. An old man cycled past us and asked us, "Where" (literally!) we want to go. In Dunapataj, we also briefly couldn't find the way, but a young woman with a stroller was on her way and explained the way to us in perfect German. She couldn't speak English. Everywhere, even in small towns, taverns were open, where men of all ages were drinking beer shirtless at 9 am. Immediately likable.
Finally, we mainly rode on country roads, like the previous embankment paths, also paved. We saw many beautifully maintained places, meaning there were wonderful gardens, partly with blooming flower boxes on bridges, pretty little squares with trees, grass, and a relic like well-preserved vintage tractors, horse wagons, or statues. But many houses were simply run down. Even the newer ones (from around 1980) were partly cracked or not in such good condition. Just before 10 kilometers to Foktö, we even passed a paprika field, for which the area is even known. In the shade after Foktö, we took a one-hour lunch break at 11:00 am with 55 km on the odometer.
Unfortunately, it didn't go so smoothly anymore. Because now we had a gravel embankment path, 22 km long. We no longer rode through villages, but around the outside. That's when the whole misery of dilapidated places became really clear. After Faisz, we crossed the Danube on a busy road - the heat was gradually starting to get to us. The whole road theoretically led through the forest, but it was again an embankment path, so the trees were too far away to provide shade. And then we went straight on for kilometers, in the blazing sun, without shade, on the typical Hungarian, broken streets.
Finally, we reached our destination Szekszard, which we first saw in the form of an industrial area. But we were soon in the city center, where our hotel was. Very beautiful, by the way, even though there were probably (almost) no other guests there. We showered, relaxed, and then went into the city. Yes, it can be compared to Berching. There are two beautiful streets (even a pedestrian zone), a large square with a church and town hall, as well as a fountain, a green area, an obelisk, small shops, and restaurants. We bought ice cream: mango for Julius, lavender for me. I hadn't tried that before, but it doesn't taste bad, it tastes just like lavender smells. We walked around the church, where a woman in a wheelchair came towards us. I didn't understand what she wanted, but Julius did. And he helped her open the church door because it opened outward. She must have been waiting there for a while. We also took a quick look inside but quickly went out again when we realized that more and more people were coming in. We didn't really want to attend a Hungarian church service.
So we had dinner. It was good and plentiful. At the next table was a group of 10-12 people who seemed to be German but also spoke Hungarian and constantly mentioned the word "Schwager" (brother-in-law). When they left, the German-speaking gentleman came to us, praised us for our dialect - he comes from Lower Franconia, lives in South Africa, and married a Hungarian woman, whose family is currently being visited. Then we went to our room. After the usual treatment with the butt cream for pressure sores, we wanted to watch TV. And there were even German channels! So we watched Captain America and went to bed way too late.