We enjoyed a traditional Hungarian meal last night. Well, it was at least prepared by a traditional Hungarian. Certainly the goulash soup seem authentic and really good. The chicken “Gordon” Bleu perhaps less authentic but still really good.

Seems that the Ramsey school of cookery is being honored in this dish which more usually found on menus as “Cordon Bleu”. Fortunately is was served without swearing, which points away from Gordon Ramsey influence.

Which leads neatly to the language challenge. Hungarian is unintelligible to me. In Germany I can order a meal and vaguely follow a conversation. In France I have a better than even chance of not getting lost. In Hungary, nothing.

Chicken translates as csirke. Which I found using Google translate. Soup is leves. But then, worryingly, Google also offers it as a verb – doppingol. To soup? I have souped? I suppose you could soup up an engine. Mmmm.

On the stroll back to the hotel – just 150m – we were mistaken for mosquitos or other undesirables and were sprayed – by a biplane!. Hard to believe that they allow chemical spraying over the city. Never mind the low level flight danger to citizens.

So we left the delightful Hotel Forras and the even more delightful Aníkà at around 8.15 and left Hungary at 8.17, crossing the Danube to Slovakia.

I won’t say much about the cycling. It was 173km, flat and fast. Awesome day on the bike.

Jakes in a Slovakian forest.

After superb cycling we arrived on the outskirts of Bratislava. And sadly, as usual we were guided by the GPS track through the colon, small and large intestine of the city. I guess that they try to choose this to avoid the congestion of the more beautiful tourist routes, but having to contend with trucks, busses and bad roads is not great either. Just ugly.

And then, surprise follows surprise – our bags were not here. And at the time of writing – 7pm – still in cycle kit. Gross.