E3: Rohod to Kisvárda: Day 100

Another day among trees.

On settling down to sleep I usually lie quietly listening for a while, checking there are no threatening sounds. Last night, from far away, in addition to the inevitable sound of a barking dog, I could hear a harvesting machine working late into the night, despite the darkness. A little later I heard sounds similar to those made by geese. Curious as to what was making the noise I switched my phone back on and opened the BirdNet App. This identified the bird responsible as the Common Crane. These large birds migrate over Hungary at this time of year. I thought they were flying over me but as their calling went on for several minutes, maybe they were roosting nearby.

I waited until I had reached Nyírkarász for breakfast. Sitting on the war memorial with a drinking yoghurt and pastries I watched the agricultural traffic going by. Big, mean, harvesting machines which looked like they had giant teeth, tractors with trailers, lorries of logs, others carrying chickens, trailers of tabacco leaves from fields I had walked by. At the next village of Gyulaháza there was a Russian jet, a MiG 21, stuck in a rose garden. As one might expect of such an unusual sight I remembered it from the last time I visited. On this trip Autumn was creeping closer, more trees were turning yellow, milkweed was releasing its cotton like seeds.

MiG jet, an unusual memorial to the first Hungarian astronaut in space, who was from the village.

Yellowing trees beside the track.

Well kept shrines like this one were common.

These blue hydrants provide drinking water to the passing hikers, but many have been disabled.

As it was a relatively short day of walking, I soon reached my destination of Kisvárda. Leaving the trees and fields behind I passed what looked like a data centre, an aerospace plant and other light industries, but as I approached the centre I was looking for a coffee and cake. A recommended place was marked on Google Maps but on arriving at the location I was puzzled. There was no evidence of a coffee shop or any signage other than a reference to some appartments. However, beyond the wall there was an area with tables, so I went through the gate. Peering through a door in the adjacent building, I could see what looked like a shop inside so I went in. It was indeed a place serving coffee and very nice cake, and it also sold a mix of other items, however the advertising outside could have been better. Of course, local people know where these places are, it is us visitors, unfamiliar with place or language who struggle.

Dinner was in a posh restaurant and being a Friday night it was busy. Full of large men with round faces and thick necks. There were a few women, all with long hair. They all seemed to know each other, shaking hands and drinking shots of a clear spirit. The tables I could see were eating pizza, I was trying something more adventurous including the Hungarian catfish soup.