Travels with Spaniels: Sunshine, wine and a screw loose

Since we entered Slovakia the weather has been nothing short of gorgeous and it remained so as we left the ski resort of Tatranská Lomnica and headed south. After negotiating some road works we were on our way to the city of Prešov where we had planned to do our weekly shop. We had paid €10 for an electronic vignette which allowed us to drive on Slovakian motorways so we passed the police ANPR camera van with a certain feeling of self righteousness. On the way we passed the spectacular ruins of Spiš Castle, perched on a hilltop, and described as one of the largest castle sites in central Europe

Spiš Castle towers over the landscape

On returning to the van from the supermarket, our feeling of deflation was reflected by one of the rear tyres which was obviously somewhat softer than it should have been. We discussed whether to pump it up and see how we got on but decided that, as we were in a city, we should get it sorted rather than wait until we were in the middle of the countryside. There is nowhere on Florence to carry a spare wheel so we would have had to rely on the inflation kit and I'm never too sure about them.

I have a screw loose

As it turned out we were able to find a small tyre place a couple of miles away on an industrial site. They were more than helpful, and had the wheel off, the problem diagnosed and the wheel back on all within an hour. It turned out we had picked up a broken screw from somewhere which had pierced the rubber. The young guy who fixed it was obviously new but he did speak English and one of the more experienced hands reminded him he was supposed to balance the wheel and put the valve cap back on. They only charged us €18

Later that afternoon we crossed the border into Hungary. Well, to be accurate, we crossed the border twice. The first time we discovered that the road on the other side that we were supposed to take, according to Google Maps, didn't exist, so we found ourselves travelling back up the motorway and into Slovakia again. Rather than turn round and go back over the border again, which might have raised a few eyebrows with the Hungarian security staff, we turned down a side road leading to a much smaller crossing. It turned out to be a good move as we were able to fill up with fresh water at a Shell garage on the way. We parked overnight at a picnic area just outside the little village of Hidasnémeti which had the advantage of having a compostable long-drop toilet, the first we had seen since leaving Finland.

They still do things the old-fashioned way around here

St John kept the waters at bay

We slept well that night, no doubt because we were protected by St John of Nepomuk, whose statue stood close to where we were parked. The legend goes that he was the confessor for the Queen of the Bohemians and he was thrown into a river by her jealous husband for refusing to divulge the secrets of the Queen's confessions. Because of the manner of his death he is the patron saint for protection against floods which was very reassuring given there was a river next to the picnic site. However, a walk with the spaniels the next morning through the fields alongside said river with its steep banks and very slowly flowing water suggested that the Saint had not had his work cut out the night before.

We set off across country along indifferent roads until the appearance of vineyards told us we had entered the Tokaj wine region, something confirmed by the large brown sign on the roadside. Tokaji wine is Hungary's pride and joy and rightly so, given that wine has been produced here since before the 12th century. A number of different styles are made but it is the sweet wines that command high prices among connoisseurs across the world. That they are expensive is due to the way they are made. Grapes are left to shrivel on the vines and be infected with botrytis, a fungal disease known as noble rot which concentrates the sweetness. Because individual grapes do not all achieve perfection at the same time, they are picked individually, rather than in bunches, and a vineyard may be picked over many times, a painstaking exercise

We have yet to visit an ugly vineyard

Obviously it would have been rude not to have called into a vineyard so we pitched up at the

These shrivelled grapes produce sweet nectar

Patriculus holding, described by Decanter magazine as the most beautiful vineyard in the region. We watched pickers moving among the vines before being called in for a tasting. Neri sportingly volunteered to continue driving, the alcohol limit in Hungary is 0%, so I tasted five wines and we came away with a dry Furmint, reminiscent of a Chablis, and a bottle of dessert wine which we will keep for Christmas. Some of the old sweet wines from this area sell for hundreds of pounds a bottle but our purchase was a little younger.

It was a short trip to the town of Tokaj where we had planned to spend the night, parked in a small side street under some trees. We had the opportunity to stroll through the pretty town and visit the local wine museum. We had also hoped to buy a Hungarian flag sticker to add to our collection on the back of the van, but although the local shops were stocked to the gunwales with fridge magnets, not a sticker was to be seen. A visit to a wine establishment allowed Neri to catch up in the tasting stakes and I was forced to buy a bottle of local Pinot Noir, a wine I had not expected to find in Hungary, that tasted much like a Burgundy. Sacrifices have to be made.

Pictures of Tokaj