Hungary for Jesus

Here's the first in a series of posts about my travels through Eastern Europe in 1990. As I explained in an earlier post, twelve of us were travelling as part of a Christian missionary organisation called Youth With A Mission (YWAM). Our journey began in Hungary on 19 May.  However, this wasn't our initial destination. Earlier that day, we'd attempted to cross into Czechoslovakia shortly after leaving Baden, a small town on the outskirts of Vienna, Austria. However, without pre-authorised visas, we were denied entry at the border. 

Our leader, Tim Coates, decided to head for Hungary. This time, we were more successful, arriving in Balatonfüred late in the afternoon, on the shores of Lake Balaton. We spent the next eight days at a local campground, building our esprit de corps and rehearsing a street drama called The Tale of Two Kingdoms. More about that shortly. The women lived in one large canvas tent while the men lived in another. Two married couples, a Swiss couple plus Tim and his wife Jo, had their own small tents. The images below, pulled from the web, provide a good sense of the campground's location. 

The lake proved to be a popular summer holiday destination. As the weekend approached, empty campsites around us began to fill. Our non-verbal street drama soon caught our new neighbours' attention. As we rehearsed, our portable boom box blasted out an instrumental soundtrack. Before we knew it, locals had gathered on folding chairs and sun loungers to watch us practise, including topless women. It was an eye-opening introduction to European sunbathing etiquette. 

On 28 May, we packed up our campsite and headed west to Debrecen, Hungary’s second-largest city by population. Our visit had been coordinated by an enthusiastic local who'd witnessed us rehearsing in Balatonfured. At the time, Debrecen was less than 100km from the Soviet border, that is, the territory which subsequently became the sovereign state of Ukraine. For the next 11 days, families from a progressive Pentecostal church hosted us in their homes. 

The city’s proximity to the Soviet Union was abundantly clear from the moment we drove into town. I still vividly recall passing a large military compound. It was surrounded by high concrete slab walls. However, through metal grill gates, we glimpsed dozens and dozens of artillery tanks parked in lengthy rows. I’d never seen so much military firepower in one location, that is, until we visited Bucharest a few months later. More about that another time.

Over the years. I’ve tried to identify the location of this massive tank parking lot. As best I can tell, it was a military barracks located at MH Bocskai István 11. Páncélozott Hajdúdandár in Debrecen. It was the first of many reminders that NATO and the Warsaw Pact were once locked in a relentless ideological battle, backed by unprecedented military might. Nothing about my life in New Zealand or Australia could have prepared me for such an extraordinary experience.

We filled our days with a range of activities, including street performances in the centre of town and a memorable day trip to a gypsy church near the Russian border. As a former university tutor for a 20th-century political science course, living on the opposite side of the globe, I couldn't believe I was a mere handful of miles from the Soviet Union. The lived experience of the geopolitics I'd taught was literally coming to life; the hypothetical made manifest.

We also spent several days training the local youth group to perform our street drama. In the image above, you can see them performing at their local church. The first photo above it was taken in Kossuth Square outside the Great Reformed Church, one of Debrecen's iconic buildings. I've pulled an image of the church from the web to reveal more of this stunning location. 

The image that opens this post is our group performing on the street in central Debrecen. In case you're curious, Jatekterem, the sign on the store window, translates to amusement arcade. In other words, we were performing outside a supermarket featuring a video games parlour. I'd later write in a travel diary that our time in Debrecen was among the best local contacts we made during our entire time in Eastern Europe.

On 8 June, we drove almost the entire length of Hungary to Szombathely, a regional city located less than ten kilometres from the Austrian border. Our route took us back through Budapest. I recall driving along the Danube riverbank in crawling traffic, but little else. Sadly, for a second time in two weeks, we stopped for little more than a brief bathroom break. It would be another 17 years before I’d return to finally explore Hungary’s picturesque capital.

According to Wikipedia, Szombathely is Hungary's oldest recorded city. It was founded by the Romans in 45AD. The photos above, taken from the web, show County Hall, home to the region's municipal council, along with the main city square (Attribution: Pennyjey, Flickr). Much of the city's architecture reminds me of nearby Vienna and Graz in Austria.

For three days, we were hosted by a local house church. A house church is a group of Christians who gather to pray and worship in private homes rather than a traditional church building. House churches were common in the early days of Christianity. In modern times, they've become popular again among Christian denominations operating outside dominant institutional churches, such as the Catholic or Eastern Orthodox churches.

We'd been invited to Szombathely by a church member who'd seen us performing on the streets of Debrecen. They arranged for us to perform at a non-Christian children's Summer camp, and assisted with several street performances in the centre of town. Our performances, which we colloquially called "open airs", were typically structured around three distinct activities. 

We'd begin the program with a 15-minute non-verbal production set to a soundtrack on a suitcase-sized boom box. It told the story of God creating heaven and earth, and populating it with the human race, the temptation of Eve in the Garden of Eden and the subsequent corruption of the human spirit by Satan. The drama then concluded with the story of salvation through the ministry and crucifixion of Christ.

A member of our group would then deliver a message of salvation, translated by one of our local hosts, before the program would conclude with us ministering to anyone who came forward to learn more.  We'd typically conduct this program once a day. On some occasions, we'd draw a crowd of close to two hundred people. The image above shows us performing in Varna, on the Black Sea coast - you can learn more about that experience here.

After three weeks of travelling in Hungary, we headed for Romania. For four days, we travelled through Austria and Yugoslavia before reaching our final destination in Pitesti, Romania, on June 14. Follow this link to learn more.

Behind the iron curtain

Seven months after the fall of the Berlin Wall, I spent three months travelling through Eastern Europe. It was an unforgettable journey. Free elections were being held for the first time in more than four decades. Hope and optimism were palpable everywhere. However, the region’s dreary socialist infrastructure was still intact, and its deep psychological scars had yet to heal. For a brief moment, I witnessed life behind the Iron Curtain before it vanished forever.

At the time, I was travelling with a group from Youth With A Mission (YWAM), a Christian missionary organisation. We travelled through Hungary, Yugoslavia, Romania and Bulgaria from May to August 1990 as part of YWAM's Discipleship Training School (DTS) course. This was a six-month program, split between three months of practical study and three months of in-the-field outreach, preaching the gospel in the community.

My DTS studies began in Goulburn, an inland city in New South Wales. Several New Zealand friends had recently completed the course and spoke highly of their experience. I flew from Auckland to Sydney to join the course on 4 February 1990. Little did I know this flight kicked off 35 years of living in Australia. I was joined in Goulburn by 22 others, plus several teaching staff, including Tim, our charismatic base leader.

For three fun-filled months, we studied the scriptures, learned effective outreach techniques and prepared to go out into the wider community to preach the gospel. This included learning a non-verbal street drama, set to music, that presented the story of salvation. Without a hint of irony, I played the part of Satan. In April, I was invited to participate in YWAM’s inaugural outreach in Eastern Europe.

About a dozen of us subsequently departed for Europe on 14 May 1990. We flew to Vienna via Singapore and Amman with Royal Jordanian Airlines. We spent four days making final preparations for our foray into Eastern Europe at the YWAM centre in Baden, Austria. This included fitting out two minivans, preparing two large canvas tents on loan to us, and securing basic provisions to get through our first week.

Our flight to Vienna included a quirky stopover in Amman. Our connecting flight to Vienna departed about nine hours after arriving from Singapore. Royal Jordanian Airlines put us up in an airport hotel for six hours. However, by the time we'd waited for its shuttle bus, checked into the hotel and finally grabbed a shower, we managed less than four hours of rest (or sleep for a lucky few) before it was time to return to the terminal. I've never counted this stopover as my first time in Jordan. The same goes for a brief transit stop we made in Belgrade, Yugoslavia.

These days, with decades of global travel under my belt, I also look back on our arrival in Vienna with amusement. At the time, I recall walking out of the airport terminal and experiencing massive culture shock. We were greeted by enormous billboards touting popular products and services. Why the shock? Everything was written in Deutsch. I couldn’t read a word of it. I recall the overwhelming sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt in the moment. Until that time, I’d always travelled in native English-speaking countries.

For three months, we travelled more than 6600km in our two minivans. We travelled as far north as Vienna, as far south as Porto Koufo in Northern Greece, as far west as Einigen, Switzerland and as far east as Varna on the Bulgarian Black Sea coast. Along the way, we passed through seven countries, although Yugoslavia later disintegrated into a myriad of smaller nation-states. We stopped overnight in, or passed through, at least four of these future nations.

One minivan, the newer yellow one, was on loan from YWAM in Switzerland, while the older, rattlier red one, was borrowed from a church in Austria. I spent most of my time riding in the red van. Our accommodation alternated between camping and staying with local families. While camping, the women slept in one large tent, while the men slept in another. The two married couples in our group each had their own small tent.

We camped for a week or so in Hungary, throughout Yugoslavia, and for one night in Timisoara, Romania. The Romanian campground was an eye-opener. The facilities were poorly maintained, and the toilet blocks were filled with human excrement. It was our first experience of the devastating impact of dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu on everyday life in Romania. 

His regime had progressively impoverished the nation by slashing welfare and investment in favour of rapidly repaying its foreign debts. The net result was painfully evident. Decrepit, run-down infrastructure, appalling pollution, endless queues for basic goods and austere socialist architecture dominated the landscape wherever we went. The opening photo, taken in Romania, offers just a hint of the world we encountered.

We also camped several times in Bulgaria, staying in popular resort cities along the country's Black Sea coast. Then, when our outreach program ended, a group of us travelled south to Greece, where we camped on a remote beach on the Chalkidiki Peninsula. It's fair to say that camping kept our expenses under control, and the European summer made it a pleasant experience. European campgrounds were often situated in shaded, tree-filled parks, alongside scenic lakes and other natural beauty spots.

I’ve often described travelling in Eastern Europe as a journey through three generations. When we crossed into Hungary, we stepped back into the era of my parents’ youth. The architecture, the urban landscape, and design aesthetic constantly reminded me of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Then, when we crossed into Romania, everything regressed again. The urban landscape and its aesthetic morphed into something I'm sure would’ve been familiar to my grandparents during World War II. 

Below is a brief overview of our final itinerary. In future posts, I’ll take you on this journey, sharing our adventures and introducing you to some of the incredible people we met along the way. Follow this link to learn more about our time in Hungary.

DAY	DATE	LOCATION	DRIVE (km)
Austria
MON	14 May	Sydney - Singapore	Flight
TUE	15 May	Singapore – Vienna (via Amman)
TUE	15 May	Vienna - Baden (by train)	24
SAT	19 May	Vienna – Czech Border	79
Hungary
SAT	19 May	Czech Border - Balatonfured	293
MON	28 May	Balatonfured - Debrecen (via Budapest)	346
FRI	8 June	Debrecen - Szombathely (via Budapest)	442
Yugoslavia
MON	11 June	Szombathely - Graz (via Vienna)	140
MON	11 June	Graz - Maribor	59
TUE	12 June	Maribor – Beograd (via Zagreb)	516
WED	13 June	Beograd - Timisoara	158
Romania
THU	14 June	Timisoara - Pitesti	454
FRI	22 June	Pitesti - Craiova	121
TUE	26 June	Craiova – Turnu Severin	113
WED	4 July	Turnu Severin - Motru	113
THU	5 July	Motru – Turgu Jiu	42
FRI	10 July	Turgu Jiu - Pitesti	174
Bulgaria
SAT	11 July	Pitesti - Varna (via Bucharest)	389
THU	19 July	Varna - Bourgas	134
TUE	24 July	Bourgas - Plovdiv	254
MON	30 July	Plovdiv - Sophia	149
Greece
MON	30 July	Sophia - Thessaloniki	293
TUE	31 July	Thessaloniki - Porto Koufo	148
FRI	3 Aug	Porto Koufo – Nea Mouldania	84
SAT	4 Aug	Driving through Yugoslavia (all night)	1877
SUN	5 Aug	Yugoslavia - Liechtenstein
MON	6 Aug	Liechtenstein - Einigen	219
Backpacking by Eurail
WED	8 Aug	Einigen - Helmstedt	Train
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Széchenyi Chain Bridge

One of Budapest's most famous landmarks is the Széchenyi Chain Bridge. It was the city's first permenant Danube crossing and remains its most stunning. At the time of its inauguration in 1849 its 202 metre span made it the world's second longest supsension bridge. On Thursday evening I took time out from a company offsite to wander along the Danube river bank, soaking up the dramatic backdrop of Buda Castle and the Chain Bridge illuminated at night.

The bridge has endured much over the last 160 years, including its total distruction during World War II. The first threat to its survival took place during construction when when it was struck by a cannonball in 1848. Austrian troops attacked retreating soliders of Hungarian Army of Independence during the 1848-49 Revolution and War of Independence. The Austrians even attempted to blow up the bridge, but the explosives failed to ignite.


Almost a century later, the German Army succeeded where the Austrian Army had failed. As German troops withdrew from Budapest they successfully destroyed all of Budapest's bridges including the Chain Bridge on 18 January 1945. The bridge's stone pillars were the only structure left intact. A fully restored bridge was finally reopened on November 20, 1949, exactly one hundred years after its first innauguration.

The first festive illumination of the bridge was installed in 1937, for a visit of Italian king Victor Emmanuel III and Austrian chancellor Schuschnigg. The present illumination is composed by two parts: the top and the bottom parts of the pillars are illuminated by reflectors, and a beading of light bulbs runs along the top chains and the edges of the pavements to emphasize the shape of the ironwork. The effect is breath-taking, helping to make Budapest one of Europe's most beautiful cities.

Back from Budapest

We 're back from a refreshing three-day weekend in Budapest. I'll have more to share shortly, including plenty of photos. I hope our pictures do the experience justice. The hilltop view across the Danube River alone is a memory worth sharing. Stay tuned.

UPDATE
I've posted more from our time in Budapest. Scroll down for details. More photos tomorrow!

Down by the Danube

The fog was still lingering as I left the tube station in Hammersmith on Thursday morning. As I walked to work I wondered if the weather was causing delays at Heathrow. In less than 12 hours we were scheduled to fly to Budapest for three days. Sure enough, when Garry and I arrived at Heathrow shortly after 6:30pm, it was immediately clear that chaos had descended. Long queues at the ticket counter snaked out of the departure hall. I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve seen this sight at Heathrow over the last two years.

Our flight was due to departure at 8:10pm. This deadline soon came and went. It wasn’t until midnight that we turned on to the main runway and heard our aircraft engines roar to life. It was well after 3:00am local time before we finally reach at our hotel in Budapest, exhausted and ready to hit the sack.

Needless to say we slept until almost 2pm the following day. At first it seemed we’d let our first day in Budapest go to waste. However, we soon made up lost time with an afternoon and evening packed with activity, leaving us with some of the weekend’s most memorable highlights. Perhaps the first such highlight was our hotel.


Our weekend away was a birthday treat so I’d splashed out and booked us into the New York Palace, a recently renovated, grand old, 19th Century hotel. The main atrium alone was truly breathtaking - five floors of white marble balconies framed by a series of graceful arches.

Commissioned by the New York Insurance Company, the architect was briefed to create "most beautiful café in the world". It opened for business on October 23, 1894 and soon became a centre for intellectual life in Budapest. Sadly, the First World War brought this experience to an end and the hotel never truly recovered until the mid-1950s.


We had afternoon tea in the street front café on our first day. The experience was extraordinary leaning against velvet-covered railings taking in a vista of gold leaf trim, crystal chandeliers and unmistakable opulence. It was easy to imagine the city’s most influential gathering here all those years ago.

We walked into town on our first day via Andrassy Boulevard, the city’s main thoroughfare. This is a broad, majestic street lined with mature trees and grand buildings. Many of the entrance ways were works of art in themselves. The opera house was a particularly spectacular venue. We eventually reached the Danube and caught our first glimpse of the Chain Bridge, the city’s oldest river crossing. This low-slung suspension bridge is a masterpiece all of it own. On its opposite end sits the Buda Castle District - a long, low hillside topped by a magnificent castle.


We caught an old venicular railway (c.1870) replenish with wooden, tiered carriages up to the top of the castle hill. Here we enjoyed our first spectacular view across the Danube and the city beyond. We made our way back to the river via the castle's empty, winding cobblestone access road. This leisurely route took us through mighty stone gateways, past towering defensive walls and an array of classic castle abutments.


Later that evening we ventured out again to see the city lights by night. The Chain bridge and castle hill were impressive, as was the nearby gothic-influenced Parliament building. After some wandering we came upon Karpatia, a restaurant that’s become something of a local institution. For more than 120 years Karpatia has been serving local Hungarian food in one of the most spectacular interiors I’ve ever had the privilege of dining in. We enjoyed amazing meals while being entertained by a roving band of gypsy musicians. Our experience was silently witnessed by a wall of dusty old paintings and intricately carved wooden panels. All in all an incredible experience.


Our second day saw us climb Gellert hill. This is the site of perhaps the city’s most visible communist artifact. On the summit sits an over-whelming 17-metre statue of a woman holding aloft a giant palm frond. She symbolizes the fight for freedom of behalf of all good proletarian workers. As with so much socialist art, the effect is dramatic and over-powering. However, while the public art on this site may be a little crass, the view quickly redeems things. The scene along the Danube, across the city and over nearby castle hill is one of the most memorable I’ve ever experienced in a major city. Budapest is blessed by natural beauty.


From our high vantage point we made our way back into the city for a late-afternoon lunch, then wandered through the heart of the old town. Our stroll took us past the square outside Parliament where dozens lost their lives in 1956 as Soviet troops violently quashed remnants of the nation's attempts to throw off communist rule. Nearby is a sculpture of a lone man standing on the bridge. This is Imre Nagy, the Prime Minister who formed an interim government following the collapse of the Soviet-backed leadership. He was later executed following a brief show trial.

As we headed back to our hotel we made a final stop at St Stephen's Basilica, completed completed in 1905 after 54 years of construction. Like so many churches in Europe, this is a majestic building, set at the edge of open plaza. We stopped for coffee at one of the many upmarket wine bars nearby, watching the sun's last rays slide across the dome of the basilica. Later that evening England beat France in the Rugby World Cup semi-final being televised from Paris.


Our third and final day in town saw us soak up the last of the city’s most popular tourist sights. First on our itinerary was a visit to the local House of Terror. This bold stone building once housed the feared State Security Service during Communist Rule. Today it’s home to a moving exhibition on the nation’s post-Nazi horrors and the lost years of communism. I was astonished to learn that the last person deported by the Soviet Army after World War II only returned home in 2001. It’s staggering to comprehend how long it’s taken this nation to overcome the last of its socialist legacy.


Perhaps the most poignant moment inside this building was the last stop on our self-guided tour – the basement. Here in simple, bare concrete cells many of the government’s opponents and so-called "enemies of the state" were tortured, and often executed. Standing in these cold, dull rooms was spine-chilling.

Our next sight was rather more uplifting. We caught the aging metro line to Hero’s Square where a striking plaza sits dominated by a tall slender column. Atop this columns rest a welcoming statue of the archangel Gabriel. Behind the plaza is the lush City Park filled with classic buildings, including a neo-classic castle consisting of a series of wings built in differing architectural styles; baroque, medieval and gothic.


Our final tourist highlight was a quick afternoon tea in the drawing room at Gerbeaud Café, a city institution serving some of the finest pastries on the edge of Vorosmarty Square. Sadly, as our empty coffee cups were cleared away we knew it was time for us to also disappear. Our flight home awaited. In contrast to our inward flight three days earlier, we departed on time, arriving in Heathrow on schedule.