t was one full moon ago that we were in Hungary. It seems longer than a full moon, and yet we have a moon’s worth of memories. Budapest is a big city, and like most big cities in the heat, it was somewhat unbearable. There were days when all that concrete seem to be roasting our unprepared NW bodies. Even our most enjoyable memories in Budapest seem seared by the heatwave that drove temps over 100 degrees for many days. We finally sought our change of climate in a small wine-making town in Northeastern Hungary. Eger, was the kind of town where the town square was still the town square. We enjoyed being part of this place and took in all it had to offer-good food, friendly people, and a valley full of vineyards. One evening we sat with 50 others in a beautiful cathedral and heard a trio in concert: a violin, bassoon, and viola. These three performers stood before us and played their hearts out. The intensity with whch they approached their music engrossed the entire audience that an unprecedented encore was in order. Unaware of what to do, they played the last song again!
e travelled back to the Danube for one of our favorite highlights. Here, we met our brother and sister-in-law, Mark and Tammy. They were on their way back to the states after an eight month tour overseas. We were excited to see them and to share our experiences. Together, we traveled up the Danube Bend enjoying each other potentially more than the sights. (The Blue Danube is a sad blue, sad from the pollution that has choked away the color blue from its waters.) Finally landing in Bratislava, Slovakia, we spent a day here and a day in its next door neighbor, Vienna. It was in Vienna that we realized how plentiful the Eastern European economies were to us Westerners. We had easily accustomed ourselves to certain luxuries that even at home we would not partake of so often (2 dolloar pizzas!). Vienna reminded us by its high prices to be so grateful for all we have and for everyday on our big adventure.
he four of us headed to the High Tatras, a mountain range shared with Poland on Slovakia’s northeastern border. Without knowing too much about the area, we were fortunate enough to gain spur-of-the-moment reservations in two mountain chalets. The Tatras (candidate for the 2006 Winter Olympic Games), seemed to be the destination for the Slovakian outdoorsperson, and some crowds rivaled a summer day in Yellowstone. As evening approached, the day hikers disappeared and we found oursleves more alone on the wide cobblestone trails. Our first chalet was loomimg in the near distance on a rocky cliff, and we apporached this mountain perch with curiousity. Facilities were modest, but pleasant for a mountain home. The building had several sleeping quarters and one dining room. During the day, this dining room was a restaurant stop for hikers. On the day we were there, the chalet manager told us that over 1000 hikers had passed through their doors. Without roads to this high camp, all the food, supplies, equipment, and even kegs of beer are carried up 2500 vertical feet by porters on daily runs. We appreciated every bite of our mountain chalet meals for just that reason.
ur tummies full, bodies exhausted, we retired to our mountain bunks for an anticipated good night’s rest. It was only on the brink of shut-eye, that we discovered the snorer in our room. This foreign man didn’t possess the annoying drone of a rhythmic snorer, but had such an orchestra of nasal sounds and vibrations that even hoping to lapse into sleep with him was beyond conception. After an aggravating 45 minutes, we took to knocking on his bunk. It proved to be only a temporary cure. He awoke, left for a smoke, and returned to commence his personal symphony.
leary-eyed the next morning, the four of us sat silently around the breakfast table. He smiled brightly at us from across the room, and we knew that he had a good night’s sleep. Despite the meager rest, the brothers were drawn to the granite peaks. They made the afternoon memorable by an impromptu 4th-class scramble along the backbone of the Tatras, complete with threatening thunderheads and views into Poland. After their return, we descended to our second mountain hut where we found lodging all to ourselves. After a warm meal, it was not too long before we said ‘Good Night’, and hoped for a better night’s sleep than the previous one. We finished our hike in the morning and said ‘Good Bye’ to our family. We were sad to see them off, but excited for our own next adventures.
t was one full moon ago that we were in Hungary. It seems longer than a full moon, and yet we have a moon’s worth of memories. Budapest is a big city, and like most big cities in the heat, it was somewhat unbearable. There were days when all that concrete seem to be roasting our unprepared NW bodies. Even our most enjoyable memories in Budapest seem seared by the heatwave that drove temps over 100 degrees for many days. We finally sought our change of climate in a small wine-making town in Northeastern Hungary. Eger, was the kind of town where the town square was still the town square. We enjoyed being part of this place and took in all it had to offer-good food, friendly people, and a valley full of vineyards. One evening we sat with 50 others in a beautiful cathedral and heard a trio in concert: a violin, bassoon, and viola. These three performers stood before us and played their hearts out. The intensity with whch they approached their music engrossed the entire audience that an unprecedented encore was in order. Unaware of what to do, they played the last song again!
e travelled back to the Danube for one of our favorite highlights. Here, we met our brother and sister-in-law, Mark and Tammy. They were on their way back to the states after an eight month tour overseas. We were excited to see them and to share our experiences. Together, we traveled up the Danube Bend enjoying each other potentially more than the sights. (The Blue Danube is a sad blue, sad from the pollution that has choked away the color blue from its waters.) Finally landing in Bratislava, Slovakia, we spent a day here and a day in its next door neighbor, Vienna. It was in Vienna that we realized how plentiful the Eastern European economies were to us Westerners. We had easily accustomed ourselves to certain luxuries that even at home we would not partake of so often (2 dolloar pizzas!). Vienna reminded us by its high prices to be so grateful for all we have and for everyday on our big adventure.
he four of us headed to the High Tatras, a mountain range shared with Poland on Slovakia’s northeastern border. Without knowing too much about the area, we were fortunate enough to gain spur-of-the-moment reservations in two mountain chalets. The Tatras (candidate for the 2006 Winter Olympic Games), seemed to be the destination for the Slovakian outdoorsperson, and some crowds rivaled a summer day in Yellowstone. As evening approached, the day hikers disappeared and we found oursleves more alone on the wide cobblestone trails. Our first chalet was loomimg in the near distance on a rocky cliff, and we apporached this mountain perch with curiousity. Facilities were modest, but pleasant for a mountain home. The building had several sleeping quarters and one dining room. During the day, this dining room was a restaurant stop for hikers. On the day we were there, the chalet manager told us that over 1000 hikers had passed through their doors. Without roads to this high camp, all the food, supplies, equipment, and even kegs of beer are carried up 2500 vertical feet by porters on daily runs. We appreciated every bite of our mountain chalet meals for just that reason.
ur tummies full, bodies exhausted, we retired to our mountain bunks for an anticipated good night’s rest. It was only on the brink of shut-eye, that we discovered the snorer in our room. This foreign man didn’t possess the annoying drone of a rhythmic snorer, but had such an orchestra of nasal sounds and vibrations that even hoping to lapse into sleep with him was beyond conception. After an aggravating 45 minutes, we took to knocking on his bunk. It proved to be only a temporary cure. He awoke, left for a smoke, and returned to commence his personal symphony.
leary-eyed the next morning, the four of us sat silently around the breakfast table. He smiled brightly at us from across the room, and we knew that he had a good night’s sleep. Despite the meager rest, the brothers were drawn to the granite peaks. They made the afternoon memorable by an impromptu 4th-class scramble along the backbone of the Tatras, complete with threatening thunderheads and views into Poland. After their return, we descended to our second mountain hut where we found lodging all to ourselves. After a warm meal, it was not too long before we said ‘Good Night’, and hoped for a better night’s sleep than the previous one. We finished our hike in the morning and said ‘Good Bye’ to our family. We were sad to see them off, but excited for our own next adventures.
