Having a shorter distance to walk today I idled through a few villages enjoying snacks.
Breakfast was a croissant, coffee and a few small cheesy bread things that are sold by weight. As I sipped my small expresso type coffee I watched lorries of timber pass by the window of the cafe that was also a bakery, cake shop and restaurant. Earlier a school bus had disgorged its students for another day at school. The Kektura began by taking me on a winding route through the centre of Nyírbátor to show me a couple of handsome churches, and a paved path with a pond on which a statue of St George (presumably) was killing a dragon, which was rising out of the water. The second of the churches had a separate wooden bell tower. Being open I went in. It was a Reformed Church consequently the decoration was restrained. On the walls, columns stretched to the ceiling high above which had a pleasing lattice pattern, otherwise all was a plain white. It was very different from the Orthodox Churches of Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria whose every inch of wall and ceiling was covered with saints and scenes from the Bible.
I left Nyírbátor through a modern industrial area. One factory proudly announced it was a "no smoking" company, which meant there were a group of workers having a smoke on the pavement. Beyond the town the track ran through trees. I walked through stripes of sunlight and shade as the morning sun pierced the trunks and branches. Younger trees formed a green tunnel enclosing me. Slightly older trees formed an arched roof above as in the nave of a church. Yesterday, mature trees, rising as columns each side of the track, side lit by sunlight, reminded me of a cathedral. Did similar trees inspire the builders of those holy buildings as they tried to inspire worshippers with the splendour of the heavens above? The track rose and fell slightly, two parallel lines, gently curving, cut into the grass by tractors, trucks and slow moving cars. As the trees moved back a little from the trail, it reminded me of a "ride" in the English countryside where ladies exercised themselves and their horses. Indeed, in places there were the marks of horses' hoofs in the sand of the track, mingling with the patterned, slightly wavy lines left by bicycle wheels.
At my first village of Nyírderzs I bought a coffee and a pizza slice, eating it on a chair outside the shop. I agreed to my coffee having squirty cream on top, a new trend since my last visit to Hungary. After the village there were a few kilometres of road walking. Where the road crossed open ground I bemoaned leaving my sun hat in a café two days ago. Its wide brim helped protect my face, eyes and neck from the sun. At Kantorjanosi I bought a Twix and can of Hell, lemon and pink grapefruit flavour today, quite refreshing. Beyond the Kantorjanosi a little more road walking. In a field to one side a large machine was working its way through a field of sunflowers harvesting the seeds. Waiting at the side of the field was a tractor with a high sided trailer, ready to take the harvest away for processing. I had seen several of these tractors trundling back and fore during the day. The road brought me to a line of small houses, beyond which there should have been a lake. I climbed a kilato, a wooden tower I did not recall from when I last came this way eight years ago. From the top I could see no lake, instead an area covered by reeds and rushes, another change from my last visit. A final difference was that a simple bar or bufé I had patronised before was now a wedding venue. An elongated, white limousine stood in the driveway. There are in general fewer small bars than I remembered, maybe the changing times.
I followed a young couple for a while, school children or students, as we both walked along the same tree lined track at a similar pace. Periodically they would hold hands. I felt a bit awkward observing them and was pleased when they turned off onto another, more overgrown track. As I walked into Rohod, another couple were walking towards me. Their large rucksacks showed these were backpackers, planing to camp in the woods tonight like myself. I gained the impression they were new to the activity. One was carrying a plastic bag of shopping, the other had a sleeping bag dangling from her backpack. Rohod was a strung out village where a few people and a couple of children unsuccessfully tried to engage me in conversation. Apart from not speaking Hungarian I was now focused on reaching a spot in the forest beyond to quietly camp. Once I was a mile outside the village I thought I was alone, away from people. Then a horse and cart with a couple on came riding by, they were smiling and said something unintelligible as they passed. I smiled back.
Finally I turned off the Kektura onto an abandoned track, which was flat and so an attractive place to camp. Just as the sun was sending its last rays through the trees I pitched my tent between two fallen trees, which made me confident that no one would drive over me.
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