I was so pleased to be back in the saddle this morning that grinding down a murderous A road in a thunder storm at a filthy hour of the day seemed like fun. After a turnoff for the Budapest motorway the road became a bit more pleasant though the thunder storms continued. At times visibility was so bad we had to stand in a lay-by just getting soaked rather than risk a road where the cars couldn't see us or standing under a tree. We had a 9 o'clock coffee so sweet the spoon stood on it's end in a bar where the hard drinking had already begun. The cycling was fast and good along industrial stretches of the not so blue Danube. We passed gigantic cement factories, Soviet era towns and some very bad public sculpture. Had lunch on a shop doorstep as it was the only place we could find shade, by then the storms had gone and the sunshine was bright.
The last 25 miles into Budapest were hellish, ground down and pushed off the road by trucks, can still feel the tension in my shoulders from gripping the handlebars tight with fear.
Budapest is fabulous, all the Hapsburg razzmatazz and everyone is blinged up to the nines. We let the side down badly. We rolled into town smelling worse than ever and looking just as rough. Our laundry routine usually involves smearing cheap, animal fat based soap over our clothes then dancing on them in the shower, the residue looks like tar. Looking for the hostel we were mingling with the fashionistas smelling like we had just escaped an institution. We've found a washing machine and are going to spend the day at the baths tomorrow to compensate. I'm so glad I packed my pearls. Dad carries on wearing tracksuit bottoms and a Villa training top, am impressed by his lack of concern about peer/mum pressure.
kirsty
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