Hungary and Ireland have a lot in common. They are both countries that have been beat up by history, a long (and often sad) search for freedom and independence. Both are countries where history is immanent–maybe that’s why I felt so comfortable there. In the midst of everyday life in Ireland, you find the ruins of centuries old abbeys and castles. We walked down a small narrow lane lined with incredible stone walls and crossed over into a field. After climbing over the turnstyle, we picked our way through a field of cows (carefully avoiding cow patties) in order to view a High Cross from the 12th century and the ruins of an incredibly beautiful Romanesque stone church, the foundations of which date back even earlier. Among those ancient ruins you can find fresh flowers on the headstones of recent burials. The cows in the neighboring fields are the source of some very excellent yogurt.
The Celtic tribes and the Magyar tribes lived together for a few hundred years in the Carpathian basin, before the Celts moved north and eventually ended up in Ireland. You can see traces of this cohabitation, especially in the traditional music. We went to hear some fiddlers playing traditional Irish folksongs in a pub in Dublin–you would be amazed to hear the similarities between their tunes and the fiddlers we heard in Eger back in February. Gaelic and Hungarian are both languages that are difficult for non-native speakers to comprehend, much less learn.
Stopping in Ireland was probably a good idea. I think it will help to ease our transition back to life in the States. Everyone speaks English (well, sort of). The clothing, the shopping, the food…they are all much more similar to what we are used to in the US, and the Irish don’t charge you for a glass of water. I know this may sound trivial, but I love ice water. We didn’t see ice cubes for almost 5 months (except once when my friend ordered a Jameison whiskey in a bar in Pecs)!
Yesterday, we arrived home after a bear of a trip that lasted over 18 hours. We had a two and a half hour layover in Philly before the final flight to Boston. We sat down in a sports bar (8 tv screens on the wall in front of us), ordered a draft (a local brew called Devil’s hop) and split an order of spicy buffalo wings! People watching was just as excellent as it ever was in Europe!
Thanks for tuning in and best regards,
Marcsi
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