On the rails again: On my way to Anatolia (8)

The Puszta

When I check out of the hotel in Eger the gentleman, and yes, it was a gentleman, at the reception looked like I imagine one of those proud Magyar nobleman who live in a grand mansion, own a huge library and invite guests for their regular piano recitals and garden receptions. White hair, white mustache, white shirt, stylish tie. When he sees my details he tells me that his neighbor is from the Netherlands. He suggests that I should move to Hungary, or in particular Eger, as well. I reply that I would never be able to learn the language. It is possible to travel in a country without knowing the language. But to live there and not be able to talk to your neighbors, make friends or participate in cultural activities, is another piece of cake. And then there is the climate. It is end of May and it is hot.

It appears to be even hotter when you have to walk to the station of Eger with luggage to continue your route. There a modern double deck train from Budapest has just arrived. It has brought a big crowd of new visitors, mainly school children, all with their little roller cases.

They can take advantage of the fact that there is no underpass and drag their luggage across the track towards the station building. Also the old woman, who comes from the other side of the station with her rollator, can move easily towards the station across the track in front of the old railcar which soon will leave Eger towards the mountains at Szilvásvárad.

Conductrice of the train from Eger to Füzesabony

On the other platform I have the choice between two trains both leaving for Füzesabony. Leaving first will the modern, air-conditioned double deck train to the right. Quarter of an hour later it is the turn for a train consisting of an old electric engine pushing two even older, conventional, non-air conditioned carriages. The windows can be opened. I will take the old train, and I am almost the only one. What is nicer than hanging your head out of the window of a moving train in the summer breeze?

Inside the old train

This of course is not the opinion of a railway manager. In the 1990’s the president of Deutsche Bahn, a guy called Hartmut Mehdorn, announced that all his trains would have air-conditioning within the next 10 years. None of his passengers would consider buying a car without air conditioning, so they also expect it in a train. He did not consider that none of his passengers would ever consider buying a car where you are not able to open a window. And he did not take into account that they never managed to get their train air condition work properly.

Conductor of the train from Füzesabony to Debrecen

Apart from myself the other traveler on the train is a girl. For me she looks like a Sinti or Roma. She says something in her language. I suggest English, but apparently she does not understand it. With her fingers she makes the international gesture for “money” and points at a piece of paper in her hand which looks like a ticket. Then she disappears. After the conductor has checked my ticket she reappears. Maybe she has hidden in a toilet, which is not simple in such a short train. She gets off after 10 minutes in the next station.

Histroric NOHAB engine on a train in the other direction

The train has to wait for quite a while to let another train pass. Through the open window I hear country life. Roosters crow, birds chirp, dogs bark and a car starts. People are busy tending the vegetable gardens, flowers and fruit trees around their square, hipped-roofed houses. I lean out of the window and enjoy the breeze. The delay should not cause a problem. I have more than 20 minutes to change to the next train in Füzesabony.

Train to Debrencen in Füzesabony

That next train is even older. A huge Diesel engine pushes two ancient green carriages. Judging from the noise this causes considerable effort. This train attracts attention. I am not the only one taking pictures.

Puszta stations

The line from Eger to Debrecen crosses almost the entire width of the Hungarian Puszta, a plain which still is empty and little developed. The train stops at every station. Sometimes I look for the corresponding village in vain. Next to the station buildings there usually is a toilet building and a faucet for drinking water, innovations which still have to arrive at those developed countries in central Europe like Germany or the Netherlands. Every station with more than one track has a guard, sometimes women, wearing a bright red cap and a spotless, shiny white shirt. There are flower pots freshly planted. A dog looking more like a pig follows the guard to the platform. After a blow on his or her whistle the guard raises his or her ladle to give the sign for departure. Then both, dog and guard, retreat to their building to wait for the next train.

Stationmistress and her dog

This train has his homeless as well. He travels with a number of big shopping bags and a duffle bag. Even though the train is next to empty he does not sit down but keeps standing in the entrance. He talks to me from a mouth where the few remaining teeth are broken ruins. Of course I do not understand a word. So he grabs my hand for a friendly greeting. What is his story? Would he ever tell me if I could understand? Or should I invent one?

The little stop of Konya

In 1933 the English writer Patrick Leigh Fermor walked from the Netherlands to Istanbul. His travelogue, which was published much later because he had lost his notes, inspired a great many of other travel writers like Bruce Chatwin. In 2009 the German writer Michael Obert followed part of Fermor’s route on his way to Greece to meet Fermor. His adventures were published in “Charwins Guru and I, my search for Patrick Leigh Fermor”. For inspiration I have brought both books with ne.

I always find it fascinating that travel writers like Obert always seem to find people who seem to just have waited for them to arrive to tell their story. Why does that never happen to me? I usually sit next to somebody who does not understand the same languages or who refuses to talk. Mostly I am just able to extract the country or town of origin and some superficiality. And if somebody has an interesting story to tell I have forgotten most of the details before the moment I am able to write them down. Maybe, for more success, I should buy one of those nice Moleskine diaries and an expensive fountain pen like my idol Bruce Chatwin kept using?

Outside, in the row of telegraph masts along the track each pole has a different inclination. The only cable the poles supports sags down to almost the ground. Weeds climb up the masts in an attempt to reach the sky.

For the first half an hour the puszta along the line is well used. Huge grain fields stretch to the horizon. The red and blue of poppies and cornflowers dot the fields. The fields turn into a grassy plain where scrubs and trees grow only along the line or around the few houses. The farmers have harvested hay and tied to big rolls. From time to time a huge herd of cattle is assembled next to a huge farm.

Michael Obert has crossed the Puszta by train. First he notes that nothing is happening. But then increasingly, his attention is drawn to all those details which will always stay a mystery because the moving train does not stop to offer the chance to ask for an answer. In some ways the Puszta, although it is very fertile, is like a desert. There is a certain monotony which makes every single feature come out more clearly. Every mast, every hut, every tree looks like a symbol in the vast plain. And since there are so few features the thought has the chance to deal with them for longer.

Before arriving at Tiszafüred the train crosses a huge wetland on a long bridge. Afterwards the line runs through an untouched part of the puszta, which is protected as a national park. Egrets and Herons spread their wings to get away from the roaring monster. Hares also think to better run.

Another remarkable difference between me and my role model writers are that they can indulge in long descriptions. See the description of the Puszta in Obert’s book on page 89. Landscapes become grand and overwhelming. Where are all the motorways, power lines, industrial sites when they passed by? Maybe just at that very moment they were totally absorbed in one of their interesting conversations that they did not notice?

Station square in Debrecen

At Balmazújváros the pleasant trip comes to an end. Between here and Debrecen the line is closed for works. The handful of passengers has to change to a bus. It is hot in the bus. I start sweating like a pig. The road towards Debrecen is in a quite bad state and we are shaken around.

Inside Debrecen station

The gernan car producer BMW is busy building a huge new plant between Balmazújváros and Debrecen. There already is a new platform for the train and a stop for the bus. But any worker who would decide to come by public transport would first have to cross the enormous parking lot between the station and the plant. I guess when you want to work for BMW you also have to drive a BMW. They are building electric cars here. At the same time the conservative German politicians try to protect the production of combustion engine cars in their own country. Are they doing their country a favor?

I have not booked a hotel in Debrecen. I notice that there is a tourist information on the way from the station to the town center. In the old days before electronic bookings you just used to walk into a town or looked for the tourist information, frequently at the station, to find a room. This could take some time. I want to see whether this possibility still works and walk into the office of Tourinform to ask for information. Three nice girls sit in a pleasantly cool room and wait for clients. They give me a brochure about the sights in town which also has a list of hotels. But they recommend pension Central and call whether a room is available and the price.

There is also a hotel central and that is of course where I end up first. They look surprised when I tell them that I come from the tourist information. And the price is much higher than I was told. It turns out that the hotel central and the pension central are different things. The pension is much cheaper and another 8 min to walk. But the recommendation is good. For the price I get a pleasant little apartment with kitchen and fridge and there even is a garden where you can sit in the evening, read your book and write your diary.

There are no spectacular sights in Debrecen. Again, in the second world war a big part of the town was destroyed. Although there are some spectacular buildings in the town center the gaps which were caused by the war were filled with modern architecture of little appeal, like those brand new shopping centers.

One of the spectacular art deco buildings in Debrecen

However, there are some interesting art musea like the Deri museum and the museum of contemporary art. I have never heard of the Hungarian sculptur Ferenc Medgyessy (1881-1958) . Opposite of the pension is his former studio which now is a museum. Many of his works decorate the public squares in Debrecen.

Museum artelier Ferenc Medgyessy

Debrecen has a big Jewish and Calvinist community. The Reformed Great Church of Debrecen at the Kossuth square is one of the biggest in Hungary. Behind the church is the Református Kollégium Múzeum, the reformed college school which also has a grand historic library.

What it might miss in sight Debrecen makes up for in pleasantness. There is a large pedestrian zone with numerous nice open air restaurants and cafes. Each square has a fountain which makes the oppressive heat more bearable. So it makes a nice stopover between two trains.

In several cafes I notice that people at tables close to me speak German. BMW has sent employees to Hungary to set up the plant. They talk about their new apartments in town, the things to do. Most are nice looking young people, the guy next to me has brought his girl friend to show her around the town. She will stay in Munich.

Istvan Bocskai obtained independent status of Transsylvania and 7 hungarian provinces from the German empire in 1605

All this will create more traffic. In particular air traffic. Debrecen has got an airport with flights to Munich. The fastest rail connection takes 9 h 30 min. There is a night train from Munich to Budapest but then you arrive in Debrecen after lunch time. The routing of the track from Munich to the Austrian town of Linz is more or less the same as when it was built buy the Royal Bavarian Ostbahn 150 years ago. Only in Austria there is a bit of high speed line. It is 650 km from Munich to Budapest, and 890 km to Debrecen. Already an upgrade to a line speed of 200 km/h would reduce the travel time to Budapest to 3-4 hours and to Debrecen to 5 hours. It would be an attractive and spontaneous alternative for the plane. Let’s see whether it will ever be considered or realized.