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Link to the diary: TRANS-OST-EXPEDITION - Stage 1

I feel like a walrus

N 46°37'305'' E 019°16'433''
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    Day: 65

    Sunrise:
    06:34 am

    Sunset:
    6:34 pm

    Total kilometers:
    1786.44 Km

    Temperature – Day (maximum):
    29 °C

    Temperature – day (minimum):
    16 °C

    Temperature – Night:
    12,60 °C

    Latitude:
    46°37’305”

    Longitude:
    019°16’433”

    Maximum height:
    110 m above sea level

After a restless night, we sit in front of our tent in bright sunshine and rest up from yesterday’s exertions. A very friendly camper welcomes us and brings us two cups of cappuccino. “For refreshment,” she laughs at us kindly. “Oh, that’s nice,” we say thank you. “Can I make you breakfast?” she asks. Tanja is happiest with her Rapunzel muesli, so she declines. I, on the other hand, accept the well-intentioned offer. It doesn’t take long for the helpful neighbor to serve me a plate of white bread. The first two slices are coated with a layer of butter about half a centimeter thick, topped with honey. “Hungarian honey,” she explains to me with a good-natured smile. Two of the slices of white bread are also generously spread with butter and covered with slices of salami. “Hungarian salami,” I hear her explain. On the other two slices there is a thick layer of lard, which I think is too well-intentioned. “I made it myself. I bought everything from the butcher and cooked it in my mobile kitchen,” comes the reply from my neighbor. “Oh, that’s very kind of you”, I thank him and wonder how I’m supposed to eat this huge plate with all the fat, bacon and lard without getting sick. Since our Mongolia crossing with the horses, I can no longer tolerate such an amount of fat and have changed my diet. (Due to the extreme location and livestock farming, the Mongolians mainly eat meat and often quite fatty dairy products. Sheep, goats, cattle, horses and camels are the suppliers of cheese, milk, cream and milk fermented into alcohol.)I look at the plate with the offerings, reach for the salami bread and carefully take a bite from the edge. As the lady walks back to her camper van, I guiltily put the plate to one side. How was I supposed to explain to her that I couldn’t eat all that without offending her? I look enviously over at Tanja, who is spooning up her delicious muesli with a visible sense of well-being. “Does it taste good?” I ask. “Hm, very good,” she replies and almost can’t stop laughing.

To start the day slowly, I head to the thermal baths. Mostly older people lie and sit in the hot, almost dark brown water. I let my body slide into the 40° C pool and lie down next to a gentleman who has been coming here for 15 years. “What is the water good for?” I want to know. “Oh, to be honest, I don’t really know. But it’s good for you and is supposed to stimulate your circulation. Warm water is always good for people and you can stay in it for a really long time.” “How long do you stay in a pool like this?” “I can stay here for a long time. I usually stay for two to three hours.” “Two to three hours? That’s forever. Isn’t that when the body dissolves?” I reply in amazement. “Oh no, not mine. The doctors say you should only stay in the water for a maximum of 20 minutes, but many people do it for longer. I think everyone should know that for themselves.” “What about hygiene here?” I ask inquisitively. “The water is drained every day and the pool attendant cleans the pool with a kind of acid. I think it’s clean. But it used to be different. There were a lot of Sinti here. Back then you could often see them squeezing each other’s pimples.” “Eww, that’s disgusting,” I shudder. “Well. Why? Why don’t you take a look around? Do you think the people here all go to the toilet when they have to? Some, like me, stay in the water for hours and I don’t see any of them leaving the pool. You know, water floats.” “So it’s unhygienic after all?” “Nope, I think the salty and mineral-rich water kills most germs. Although I’m not sure about that. Here in Germany, however, the water in the thermal baths is often additionally chlorinated,” he explains to me and I don’t know whether I should still feel comfortable. My gaze glides over the surface of the water and I feel like a walrus wallowing in the hot water. Although I have a few questions, I can’t deny that my muscles are visibly relaxing. You don’t have to dunk your head under the water, I reassure myself and linger for another ¼ hour. Then I go for a massage. For a long time now I’ve wanted to have my aching body kneaded again. Here in the thermal bath of Kiskörös a medical massage is also offered which is also affordable. Relaxed but tired, I start my notes in the afternoon. Some of the friendly campers keep asking us where we are from and where we are going. Although I have to keep interrupting my work, we have a wonderful, relaxing day.

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