Hungry in Hungary

It's been some time since my last trip abroad on the sausage trail, but here I am on my way to the biggest sausage festival on the planet at Bekescsaba in Hungary. It's time to leave the nonsense at work behind for a few days and focus on the next chapter of my sausagey sojourn. My only regret is that Emma can't be with me on this trip but it's not realistic, a shame really as we both loved our trip to Romania and I think Hungary will be much of the same.

I'm currently sitting in a lounge at the airport waiting for the gate announcement, not much to report yet but I hope that the weather in Budapest is better than here. Will update tonight.

The promised update:

Th flight was of no real consequence other than to say there was, of course, the inevitable stag trip, complete with the 'stag' dressed in a giant baby grow a la George Dawes, 'kin hilarious (really?). I snoozed right up until landing in, probably, the most uncomfortable seat I have ever experienced on a flight. The usual airport experience followed, passport control an unmanned customs checkpoint and out into the main concourse. Getting the keys for the car was a great deal less painful than anything I've experienced in France, fifteen minutes after disembarking I was on the road. A confusing road system forced me back to the terminal where I queued with the taxis for a while before realising that if I didn't shift my arse I was liable to pick up a passenger, off I went.

Once more my preparation for navigating to my booked hotel left more than a little to be desired. The 10km that the directions mentioned swiftly turned into 12km so I decided it was time to leave the main thoroughfare and strike out on my own using my phone to navigate. The accuracy wasn't great until I realised that I hadn't switched on the GPS, when I did so the additional power required killed the bloody thing. I drove aimlessly around some increasingly unsavoury areas until I found a garage, broke out the Mac to charge the phone and was away, this time with a purpose.

It transpired that the crossroads at which I had decided that I knew best and set off into the unknown was only two or three hundred meters from the hotel. If I had trusted the directions I would have been there half an hour earlier.

So here I am, sitting in an empty restaurant with an empty beer glass and an empty plate. Food is on its way, pork escalope, can't wait.