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Actually getting out of Budapest proves not as difficult as finding our way in.
We arrive at the campsite at midday, to find the gates closed, the Reception office is closed 12:-14:00.
Once we get in, Thermal Camping, is an excellent site, German/Austrian quality facilities, excellent.
While we wait for the site to open, we go looking for a supermarket, to buy some provisions. We find a Tesco!
After lunch, I have a little explore, ie search out the Catholic Church etc, I find a church no problem, but the notices are obviously in Hungarian, and may as well therefore be in ancient Greek.
I find a "Wine and Potato Pancake Festival", a bit of a strange combination.
In the evening, we go along to the Wine Festival.
There are to usual parades with people dressed in what look like costumes from the middle ages, followed by speaches by local notables, which no one appears to pay any attention to, but, the most interesting bits were:
You "hire" a wine glass for 500HUF (350HUF = £1), then you wander around the various "exhibits" sampling the different wines.
The wine is not actually free, you have to pay about 200HUF, per glass. They obviously assume people are here for the culture, since they are giving out small (ie correct) amounts of wine, but Kathleen note that some locals are asking for their glasses to be filled up, and so joins the local winos in insisting on a full glass.
There are tables and chairs set out, where you can eat your potato pancakes if you wish, or just watch the folk music type groups on the stage.
When you have had enough, you take your wine glass back, and get back your 500HUF.
Saturday, we cycle along the excellent cycle tracks, visit the town to attempt to decipher the church notices (we find a German speaker who can converse with Kathleen), eat ice cream, then return to the van to lie in the sun.
Sunday, Kathleen goes to church in the morning, then we have a bit more explore on our bicycles.
We then discover, the Wine and Potato Pancake Festival has morphed into a sort of old fashioned fun fair, staffed by people dressed in what I assume are Gypsy costumes.
There is a chap wielding a bull whip, not too sure with what objective in mind (if any).
But, mostly the "side shows" are aimed at children.
There is one where they have a barrel on a pole, there is a large hole in the barrel, and the children have to throw balls and try to get them into the "mouth".
Another where they roll Walnuts down a hollow tube, and the children have to hit the walnut with a mallet as it emerges from the pipe.
The old favourite, walking on stilts of course.
Another, involving walnuts, they spin the wheel, and the children have to throw the walnuts into the pots attached to the wheel.
and, finally, one which seemed to interest the older girls mainly, we were not too sure exactly what was going on, lots of blushing and giggling, but we think it was a variation on "reading tea leaves", but here, they appeared to be "reading the beans!".
Monday, we are on our way, leaving Hungary, so, no point taking our remaining HUF's with us, we call at Tesco, and with some difficulty, buy food and booze until we have spent the remaining 12,000HUF (about £40).
Then, on our way to Austria and Vienna, to arrive at Doneupark Camping (Klosterneuburg). Doneau, we think, is the name they call the Danube River.
All looks good, usual high Austrian standard of site. There is a cycle track (we are told) into Vienna city centre (about 18km away). We check out where it starts, and plan to do the whole thing tomorrow.
We are soon in Austria and we are cruising along through spectacular scenery.
Armed with our “vignaitte” to travel on their motorways (8Euro for ten days), we can also cover some distance quickly, then, only about 5 miles from our planned stop for the day, we get a puncture.
Damn!.
Fortunately, it is the front, righthand side wheel, so I can get at it on the hard shoulder, without being "on the traffic side".
We get into our fluorescent “safety” vests, Kathleen sets up the warning triangle (the first time we have used any of this stuff) and prepare to change the wheel on the hard shoulder.
Not a pleasant experience with three lanes of traffic speeding past at 70mph plus, less than a metre where I have to lie on the ground to retrieve the spare wheel from under the van.
Needless to say, I do not linger to take photographs of this!
All is completed, without incident, and we travel on to our chosen campsite (Thermal Camping, Bad Waltersdorf).
After we have checked in, an very efficient Austrian lady comes to see us about the tyre.
Kathleen is sceptical about how much she will know about tyres.
The Austrian lady is the model of efficiency, makes a note of all of the tyre markings (size, type, etc), notices it is a Bridgestone (not easy to get I know from past experience), so takes a note of the same information from a Pirelli tyre which is already on the van.
She has quite a nice chest too. Almost worth getting a puncture for.
She phones a garage, they do not have a matching tyre, but, one is ordered, with delivery promised for Thursday, or earlier if possible.
You would have to have seen this to appreciate it, she was just so efficient, all of the above took only five minutes. On her belt she had a little sort of bag, in which to had everything to hand, notepad and pen to note the details, mobile phone to make the call, notepad and pen again to give me a note of the Garage name and address. I am sure Herr Flick ('allo, 'allo) would have loved her.
In the interim, it is no hardship to stay here, the site is excellent, with the kind of spotless and high quality facilities you expect to find in Germany or Austria.
There is a railway line running by the site, but the trains are very infrequent (noisy freight trains when they do pass). Must take care not to call them Germans, they are very particular about ensuring you know they are Austrians.
Wednesday morning, 09:30, we are told, they have our tyre, and we need to go and collect it at 14:30 in a town about twelve miles away. 140Euro, but, we have to have a spare.
A problem emerges, the site, in common with most sites in Germany and Austria, has a “quiet time” between 12:00 and 15:00. The gate is closed, no vehicles can get in or out.
This being Austria, the rules apply to everyone, even a McCaffery, so we have to drive out of the gate before 12:00 and park outside. Kathleen tries her hardest, but, soon grows impatient with waiting. I think she actually lasted until 12:05.
We head for Hapsdorf, looking for Konig Garage.
It is only 12 miles away, and we arrive way too early. They are very obliging however, and give us coffee, while a young man takes away our ruined tyre and returns with a new tyre fitted in a short while. We do a little shopping, and are back at the site by 14:55, with only five minutes to wait until the gate opens.
Now that the tyre problem is fixed, our thoughts turn to our first site in Hungary. We decide to check the distance, using the satnav.
Problem!
Before leaving home, someone (ie me) did not check that the Satnav included maps of Hungary. I reasoned, since they are part of the EU, they are part of Europe and the satnav covers Europe.
But, (and it is not often I admit this), I am wrong, we have no satnav coverage for Hungary.
We have an uptodate Road Atlas which includes Hungary, so Kathleen is going to have to dust off her map reading and navigating skills.
Thursday, we say goodbye to our Austrian tyre expert and head for Hungary.
The first part is easy, we head along the A2 motorway, past the scene of our puncture, and switch to another smaller road which takes us toward the border.
At the border, we have to buy another “vignaitte”, this time to travel on the Hungarian motorways (at least I think it is for the motorways, there only seems to be one!, but there are lots of signs saying you have to buy a “vignaitte”, so, we stop at the border. We are waved on by a sleepy guard, who points to a petrol station about 500 yards down the road.
Kathleen manages the transaction no problem in a mixture of German and English. One slight hiccup, she leaves her glasses behind, but the young man from the petrol station manages to catch us, before we drive off.
We actually manage the rest of the way to Keszthely, Balatontourist Camping Zala (ACSII book) without a single wrong turn.
But, it is not easy navigating in a country with such unpronounceable place names, how about Zalaegerseg or Csabrendek, how on earth do you pronounce them! I have to ask Kathleen to spell the place names out, so I can watch for the signs!
There is one where they have a barrel on a pole, there is a large hole in the barrel, and the children have to throw balls and try to get them into the "mouth".
