Southbound Sickboy …. Following the Danube further South

AS SICKBOY SEES IT
Southbound Sickboy …. Following the Danube further South// Day 32
Deutscheleitkulturblog by Christian Raum
Berlin/Dunaegyháza  20.September 2017

Biggest industry in Budapest seems to be mass tourism. Millions are being brought from around the world to Hungarians capitol. All the city’s infrastructure is laid out to transport food and supplies and services from the outer districts to distribute them in the centre.

The travellers and their dear packhorses need to cross, pass, cycle along six lane roads, tram lines, harbours, train stations, bridges.

Traveling out of the city means to dive into the different layers of tourist industry suppliers.

Between outlet centres, fillingstations, OBI Baumarkt and rotten industry brownfields the Danube River is crossed. Budapest outer burroughs are surrounded by mainstreets and motorways packed with trucks rolling in both direction. Four „hop on hop off“- buses on their way from the depot to the centre. Stucked in traffic chaos. Traveller is following main street to motorway.

Here the pumping heart for city centre’s restaurants and hotels is located. Giant warehouses run by companies alike Lidl, DHL, Schenker or Electronic or Building supplier firms are busy like beehives.

Trucks standing in long rows. Waiting to be unloaded or loaded. To be checked in or out to the warehouse’s loading ramps.

Due to heavy traffic the road further South is closed for cycles. Sickboy and me looking for a new route. We circle around the supergiant Lidl warehouse. We are searching for the Eurovelo6 cycle way – connecting the Atlantic and the Black Sea.

Here we found the face of tourist industry changing
In contrast to the flooded city, the cycle route is wide, empty, hot and – for my taste – a little boring.

I like the mountains. I love when Sickboy is jumping like an elderly gumball uphill and downhill. Left or right. Through valleys and cross water flows and rocks and along dark deep forrests. Round churches, monuments, and along ski lifts. Therefore I confess … I felt  bit alien on Hungarian’s posh flat cycleways.

This day’s final exit is the Grillparty Camping in Dunaegyháza.

Along the day the tourist masses have thined out. And eventually I reached the site I am the only tourist present.  I ask for a dinner.
„Do you like burger, sausages, or fish?“ I been asked.
“ What fish is it?“
„Ehhhmm… fish fish.“
„Fried?“
„Sure.“
„Ok. Fish, beer, pancake, and coffee,“ I ordered.

The chilly wind cooled my head and my burnt skin. I listend to the trees, insects, and the fishing man sitting along the river. Smoking. Splishsplash. Whisper. A fish drawn out of the river. Platsh. A lighter clackclacking.

Sweetly boring boring boring until my eyes closed and me fallen asleep.

☆☆☆☆☆

THANKS to MISTER „Ninty miles an hour, girl, is the speed I drive“ SICKBOY!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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