sze, 2012-10-10 21:08 — pfm
A lucky escape after being knocked from a bicycle in Budapest provided an unexpected opportunity to see inside the Hungarian health service.
Like all good sagas, this one begins with a long, heroic journey.
One fine September morning, I set out from the town of Mohacs, in southern Hungary, to cycle 200 kilometres up the Danube to Budapest.
Let other chroniclers tell the story of those five glorious days. I will jump straight to the hero's arrival in the nation's capital, and his near demise.
It was eight o'clock in the morning.
I was cycling slowly in the heavy rush-hour traffic on Csepel island, half an hour from my home. There are no cycle lanes on Csepel, unlike many parts of the city. tovább »