Makó, Hungary and Arad, Romania

I wasn’t joking about the potholing! The first 100 km from Debrecen to Makó was a series of potholes, bumps, ruts and ridges. His Lordship is more into heavy metal, but this was a case of rock and roll. Or, rather, shake, rattle and roll! Thankfully the roads eventually improved and I was finally able to enjoy the passing scenery without my eyes blurring.

Various crops are grown on the plains, my favourites being sunflowers. The Hungarian ones are quite a bit smaller than the dinner plate-sized sunflowers I know from France, but what they lack in size, they certainly make up for in quantity!

We are all happy with the campsite in Makó. Apart from the beautifully landscaped parkland on the banks of the river Maros, the pool and funky solar powered showers (basically large metal balloons painted black), this was the first campsite we have ever come across that had its very own chapel. How random!

On day one, the Oldies, claiming to be still suffering from the effects of the journey, took to Makó’s Hagymatikum Spa to ease their aching bones. Great excuse! And a great excuse to leave me behind into the bargain. Of course, I heard all about it afterwards, how amazing it was. Being in onion country, the name of the spa comes from the Hungarian word for onion, hagyma, and the spa buildings are ultra-modern and shaped like – you’ve guessed it – a giant onion.

The Oldies were delighted with the pools and facilities and enthused about the great value. With their 20% discount from the campsite, their entrance fee was only €7.50 each and the daily menu (soup and main course) in the main restaurant a mere €3.30. Medical/health treatments start at around €5 (for a 20 minute mud treatment, for example), but if you’re on the Hungarian health system, this is reduced to 67c!

It all sounded wonderful, but I wasn’t in on any of it. No, I had to make do with the poxy campsite pool. The rotten meanies!

The Wingless Wonders felt sufficiently refreshed after their spa day to take on Romania. Well, a visit to Arad to be exact. Just over the border and only about 60 km from Makó, Arad is small city (population of about 160,000) which is also on the river Maros, Mures in Romanian. Apparently known as “Little Vienna”, it may well have lived up to that description in the past, but from what I saw of it in 2017, this seems to be a case of wishful thinking. The poor old town is dreadfully decrepit in spite of supposedly being a prosperous city with a booming economy.

Many of Arad’s iconic buildings are crumbling and in a poor state of repair and many shops, apartment blocks and houses in the city centre, although occupied, look positively derelict. These law offices in the vicinity of the local court didn’t particularly inspire confidence.

Interesting. Romania has its leu, but when it comes to real estate, international travel, mobile phone contracts and cars, prices are usually given in euro. And they sure are car mad over here. I’ve rarely seen so many fancy cars in such unfancy surroundings.

With temperatures soaring to a blistering 42˚C, Arad became very hot and arid indeed. Suddenly that poxy campsite pool doesn’t seem so poxy after all.

I hadn’t realised that we were in Transylvania. Perhaps this is a blood bank? I was somewhat reassured when I spotted this drying shed outside the city. There‘s enough garlic in there to keep a whole flock of vampires away!

I am totally puzzled by this Romanian Orthodox cathedral, beautiful and all as it is. It was built between 1992 and 2008, slap bang in the middle of a busy junction. As I said, many buildings in the inner city, including numerous churches of various denominations, are in desperate need of repair and there already is a Roman Orthodox cathedral in the city centre, but somebody somewhere deemed it necessary to build this massive new church at, no doubt, massive expense. Why? Ok, I’m sure my little bird brain is missing some clever human logic behind this, but I really don’t get it.

Which brings me back to our little campsite church which is only about 20 metres from our caravan. I thought it was just a private family memorial chapel, but it is actually in regular use! The other day a long, sombre ceremony was conducted in it which I took to be some sort of memorial or funeral. Her Ladyship was nearby, hanging out a load of freshly washed Oldie underwear before she realised what was going on.

The next day a wedding party appeared. Just in time to absorb the aromas of His Lordship’s culinary efforts which included barbecued onions and spicy sausages. Yet another bride and groom appeared at the campsite the following day, the stunning white bridal gown striking a dramatic contrast to Her Ladyship’s fluffy pink towel as she emerged from the shower block.

Two weddings and a funeral. On a campsite. You couldn’t make that up! In fact, I think it could make a great plot for a hit movie.

If only I could come up with a snappy title.