Not relishing Rajka

It took just over an hour to get to Rajka from Vienna by train, and it only took me 30 minutes to walk the entire length of the village–twice–to snap some photographs. According to Multimap, Rajka is in Slovakia, but it’s not. Okay, it’s only 2 km from the Slovakian border, but it’s definitely in Hungary.

There are apparently 3,500 people in Rajka but I’m not sure where they were all hiding. The only people I met who did speak any English were two Canadian cyclists passing through.

Yesterday was one of those days that went from bad to worse, starting at saying good bye to a person and a place I’ve become quite attached to.

The first person I tried saying thank you to in Hungarian, Közszönom szépen, happened to be Austrian, my backpack wripped, I had no idea what I ate for dinner since I couldn’t understand anything on the menu, and when I returned to my hotel, which was located right alongside the railway tracks, I found all of the doors locked. After 15 minutes of banging on doors and ringing bells, someone finally came and let me in. From what I could tell from her words and arm gestures, she’d been sleeping. It was 2130 hours.

“I’ve been here for ten minutes,” I said, frustrated because no one had told me there was a lock-out time and the brochure said the reception desk was manned 24 hours a day.

“My friend’s going to be calling me,” I said. “Do I have a telephone in my room?” I hadn’t thought to look earlier.

All I got was a blank expression. I tried again using very bad German.

“Mein freund telephonieren mich. Habe ich ein telephone in mein zimmer?”

“Fruhstuck um acht uhr,” the woman said.

“Yes, I’m having breakfast at eight, but what about my friend calling? Can you transfer them to my room or do I need to come downstairs?”

“Fruhstuck um acht uhr,” she said again.

I gave up and went to bed but got little sleep. It was so hot I had to keep the window open but then every so often a train rattled by. I got up this morning so far on the wrong side of the bed that I’d fallen off.  I decided to leave. Rajka was not compelling me to remain in Hungary.

But, rather than give up completely, I headed to Budapest. I’ve checked into a hostel for a couple of days and hope my low spirits will lift soon. Going up and down like a bloody yo-yo is a tiring business and gets very boring very quickly for everyone concerned.

 Print This Post

If you found "Not relishing Rajka" useful or interesting, please share it with others by bookmarking it at the following sites: