A Weekend In Heves

After nine weekends on the run, escaping Heves with travels across this country and four others, the momentum ran out.

After a busy and far-away break, every single American teacher crashed in their village this weekend, and I was no different. Luckily, I am proud to report that I made it alive through a weekend alone in Heves.

I learned that the S-Stop sells bottles of Miller Genuine Draft, believe it or not. A bottle sells for just under a dollar, quite a bit more expensive than the Hungarian versions.

The local gyro shop is not, as I had speculated, closed for the winter. While my palpability of all things edible is improving, I still prefer gyros of simply meat, bread and a little special gyro juice-sauce.

No where in Heves that sells hammers also sells nails. No where in Heves that sells nails also sells hammers. Bummer.

Heves has an American football club! No information other than they're called the Hevesi Crows and meet on Saturdays. The sign looked weathered.

Fog has arrived, every morning and every evening. Rather thick and un-motivational.

And if you ever dress up as Coldplay frontman Chris Martin for the school Halloween party, no one in Heves will have any idea what you're doing, but you can still have fun talking about carving jack-o-lanterns in a British accent.

On a related note, if anyone can figure out what one of the teachers was doing when she had a class sing the Sound of Music's "Do Re Mi" as a Halloween song, please let me know.