MostlyLost Adventures

A package is on its way…

Since I knew my mentor was still in Spain, I thought ahead and wrote to him the day before from France to let him know I was coming and that he’d need to pick me up at the airport in Bilbao. Guess what? Exactly… I arrived, picked up the most important thing—a bag of French souvenirs—and when I walked out of the terminal, everyone was waiting except for me… ha… typical—I’m not even surprised anymore.

Okay, I’m not going to panic. I’ll just sit down at a café, sip something caffeinated, and start making some calls. You know, it’s like eating pie in *Men in Black 3*—it always helps me think. A call here, a text there—obviously, no one’s available—great. Then suddenly someone calls and says, “Damn, sorry, I forgot; I just read your message, but I’m already on my way.” Ohh, great… I’m so proud of you. Of course, no problem—I’ll just have some coffee here in the meantime… may the devil drink cold water on you… But now you can come pick me up because you got a car with an automatic transmission, right? To be honest, compared to when we first met, the guy has improved a lot as a driver; this time, I was much less scared for my life with him behind the wheel. On the way back, it turned out that “where were you just now? Ahh, damn, that was my training project.” So that French project was actually his training project too, and he didn’t really like it either—which just confirmed to me that nothing had changed; it was still 💩.

We spent another whole week together, but on our last day together, he left us alone with my training buddy, claiming he had a severe headache, and went back to the hotel. Since I was traveling back to Hungary the next day, I arranged with my colleague that we’d get together that evening for one last farewell—after all, I knew that by the time I returned, I’d be the proud sole owner of the project—how quickly I’ve grown up, right? 🥲

On my way to the hotel restaurant, I spotted my mentor standing a respectable distance from the entrance; I thought maybe he’d feel like joining us, so I decided to ask. His answer was a bit surprising.

“Ah, I’ve got this joint right here—it’s keeping me going for now, so my head doesn’t hurt, but I’m going back to sleep.”

-…Ahh, fair enough. See you sometime then. Bye 😂🌿

The next day, my Spanish colleague drove me to the airport at dawn; for some reason, he thought keeping a 2.5-centimeter distance from the car in front of us was ideal. After a tearful goodbye, my flight from Bilbao to Frankfurt-Budapest route—with two layovers and a whole lot of stopovers—my flight landed at Ferihegy sometime around midnight, where I was really hoping a car reserved in my name would be waiting to take me home. I rush over to the car rental counter…

– Hey, buddy, please check if there’s a car reserved under my name.

-“Um… no.”

– Oh, great… but I’m surprised…

A quick phone call—I called my boss, who had flown there that same day from the same place I’d come from; we’d just missed each other. “There’s no car reserved. How do you think I’m supposed to get home from here at midnight, huh?”

In the end, I would’ve even agreed to rent a car out of my own pocket for a couple of days, and then have the company reimburse me later. Just let me get myself out of this mess, please. 😭

What a lovely thought that was… until my pesky Revolutos debit card came up. I hand it to the teller; she flips it over, swipes it—I say, “The genie isn’t going to come out of this one; it’s pointless.”

– Is this… one of those cards you have to load money onto?

– Well, it’s obviously not going to teleport the money onto itself, so yes.

– Then I can’t accept this…

– Come on, why not?!

– What if you get a speeding ticket or park illegally and there’s no money on it—won’t we be able to deduct it?

– …Ahh… You know what, screw it… I’m damn tired, let’s just forget about it, I’d rather take a cab home…

With that burst of energy, I dragged myself over to the taxi stand to order a ride to my hometown, roughly 120 km away. At the counter, they told me in a shaky voice that, um…the ride would cost 37,000 Dagestan forints, but I just waved it off and said, “Sure, let’s do it.” We stopped to buy a highway sticker—which actually made things easier—and shortly after, we were tearing up the M7 highway toward Lake Balaton. My driver was a delightful older gentleman to whom I vented my frustrations; we chatted a bit, and then for the rest of the trip home, I spent my time studying my eyelids from the inside.

On subsequent trips, of course, I was much more cautious. In agreement with the company, we hired a Veszprém-based transportation company to handle our airport trips smoothly. Since my town was right on the way, I didn’t have to walk a single meter; my taxi driver was really nice, door-to-door transportation was guaranteed, and on top of that, the drivers were all really cool, so I was never bored.

I’ll be back

Just like the Terminator, I’ve returned. At the Bilbao airport, having a car reserved in my name made my life significantly easier. When I got back, my hotel reservation still had a week left, so I told my boss it would be good to extend it before Easter, because it’s going to be really unpleasant to be camping in April. The response caught me a bit off guard: “Why don’t you try sorting it out yourself at the front desk?” “Nothing could be more natural.”

So I went down and told them I’d like to stay for another… two months. The receptionist looked at me for a while, wondering if I was joking or had been smoking something, but she could tell from my expression that I was serious.

“Sure, if we get an official request from the company—even if we have to move you to another room—it’s still possible,” came the reply.

After that, I hounded those poor people on a daily basis, while my boss and I went back and forth until I told him that I’d have nowhere to go tomorrow, so I’d probably get fired like a piece of shit. I felt I had to take matters into my own hands. My only stroke of luck was that Good Friday isn’t a holiday in Austria, so the remaining staff were still available at the last minute. The call came in the morning: “Whoops, sorry, sorry, we screwed this up—there’s no room here anymore. In fact, you’ll have to go to a different hotel for the weekend, and then to another one on Monday…”

“Well, you really planned that out well, you f…ing idiots.”

I could have said that—but I just politely thanked them and was glad I wouldn’t have to sleep in the trunk. I quickly gathered up the stuff I’d accumulated in abundance over the past few months, then trudged off with it to check out. I didn’t have to introduce myself at the front desk anymore—the pretty girls there already knew me—so when I checked out, all they asked was, “You’re not going to end up on the street, are you?” Reassuringly, I just said that, worst-case scenario, I’d sleep in the car. 😉

Surpriseee, compensation

Sometimes you can even profit a little from the chaos. When your head doesn’t know what your hands are doing, you can quickly stumble upon a bargain and snag a deal for 340€ during the Easter period for two nights at a hotel right by the sea. That said, since it wasn’t my money, I wasn’t the least bit worried about it. That’s how I ended up in Orio for the Easter weekend, a small resort village located about 20 km south of San Sebastián. When I arrived, I thought I’d gone to the wrong place. A quiet, sandy coastal cove surrounded by small hills, short hiking trails, bike paths, paragliders soaring over the mountains, free parking—what kind of place is this?

After I’d composed myself a bit, I headed toward the hotel entrance. Of course, since I’d just come straight from work, I hadn’t really bothered to change, so I stood there at the front desk in my work clothes, decked out with all the company logos. That helped a lot, since I practically didn’t even have to say my name—I was immediately handed the keys and some additional information. Plus, German names aren’t exactly easy to understand in a Spanish dialect anyway. The extra information… You can rent bikes for free at the hotel… hmm… not bad. There’s a full-service spa in the basement—a hot tub, sauna, and four pools… even better… and it’s all included in the price. What do you mean? 😮

Oh, what a shame it turned out this way in the end, and I’ll add that the room wasn’t bad either—it even came with a decent-sized terrace. Well, that’s it—actually, it wasn’t such a bad deal after all, hehe. We spent the weekend exploring the area and, of course, relaxing and swimming, because where else could you spend your well-deserved vacation if not at a place like this, right? 😎Though it was a bit of a bummer that they made me wear a 3-euro swim cap over my thick head of hair… pff, outrageous 🙈

With the relaxing weekend and the wellness area behind me, I headed over on Monday to my next booked hotel, a 4-star, relatively new building. When I arrived, the friendly receptionists—who finally had some decent English skills—helped me through the check-in process, and then I settled into my room. But wait a minute… I get that it’s nicer and bigger… but there’s no kitchenette, damn it, not even a fridge… no way. Oh well, I’ll just have to make do like this for the remaining five weeks. It’s true that the restaurant in the lobby—while not exactly cheap—served really good food; I haven’t had a cheesecake with strawberry jam as good as that one anywhere since. What’s more, they really take care of everyone—so if you’re an introverted, antisocial person, for example, they’ll even bring your order right to your room.

Right from the start, I didn’t understand what the staff found so incredibly likable about me, but everyone—from the receptionist to the waiters and chefs—was unusually kind to me. Okay, after a couple of weeks, it must have become obvious to everyone that I’d become part of the hotel, so I must have been some incredibly important person—spoiler alert: I wasn’t. The chef, for example, would regularly come out to ask me in person what I’d like for breakfast that day. Of course, she had her reasons—she took the compliments in stride. 😉

Hiking in Zumaia

Zumaia was about 30 km away from my Easter getaway, and it’s one of my favorite and most unique places I’ve ever visited. A few of my friends and I decided there was a great little trail there that would be worth hiking. In the little village just before the starting point, we stocked up on some drinks and snacks for the trip, grabbed a cappuccino to go, and then set off from the beach, heading up to the top of the cliffs. As soon as we reached the shore, we were captivated by the sight of the vertical cliff face. This is what’s known as flysch—a formation of alternating layers of soft and hard rock that formed over 100 million years ago and was shaped into this form by wave erosion. I’ve never seen anything like it before. The shore is actually a popular swimming beach during the season, but we would have needed about three more weeks for that.

After a brief discussion of the rock formations, we set off for our original destination: the lookout point at the top of the mountain on the other side of the island. On the way up, we kept debating and sharing stories about the then-shockingly entertaining developments in the Amber Heard and Johnny Depp trial—but you’ve got to pass the time somehow, right? We took turns carrying a large backpack filled with all our gear. Of course, the weakest links in the chain immediately fell by the wayside, and my Polish colleague passed the baton to me after a short while, but I figured it was for the best—my food is the best in there, so don’t go squishing it for me. The landscape was surprisingly open and… stone me if you will, but as a Bakony outlaw, I saw the Bakony in it. Of course, without the free-roaming horses and cows or the sea, but somehow the layout of the roads, the green spaces… It just felt good to be there, plus listening to my two colleagues tear each other apart was a special treat 😂

Adiós España

The days went by, and since my own project was progressing well even without me, one morning I got another call… There’s a project in France, not far from you—about 80 km away—could you help out a little there? If I don’t have to fly, then maybe it’s possible… I can handle that much. We went over the details, and since I’d have to be there by tomorrow morning, I transferred a larger amount to Revolut, knowing I’d need it abroad anyway. I’m such a sucker, right? So far, everything’s going well—doesn’t this seem fishy to you guys, too?

Who else remembers that trip to France when I had to give my credit card to the hotel?

BAM—a notification pops up: minus €830. What the f*** is going on? What’s with the €830? What’s that for, where did it come from, and why was it charged to my account? 💸

I quickly Google the hotel’s phone number and call them from an Austrian number. They hung up on me twice and put me on hold for 15 minutes each time, until they managed to find someone who told me, “Well, I can’t give you any information, but I’ll find the manager—call us back in about half an hour.” Of course, half an hour later, after going through the same ordeal all over again, the person in charge told me that the bill hadn’t been paid, so they tried to charge the money to the credit card I’d provided—and it worked.

Oh, really? My ass can eat horse meat…

I immediately sent a desperate message to my boss and HR, saying that I wasn’t going anywhere tomorrow without money, and that I’d already blocked my card anyway, so there was no way for me to pay (of course I did have money, but they didn’t need to know that). It turned out that the travel department “forgot” to pay, so the situation naturally escalated.

…Very clever—I hope the person in charge gets “Employee of the Month” and maybe a four-month bonus…

In the end, they assured me I’d get my money back—no big deal—but the travel coordinator casually remarked that if he were in my shoes, he’d request a company credit card to avoid situations like this. At that point, with my blood pressure rising slightly, I asked the HR representative to respond on my behalf for obvious reasons 🙂

For the remaining week, I commuted back and forth between France and Spain. It’s important to note that while there’s officially no highway toll, you still have to pay a hefty sum at the toll gates. On top of that, I only had a virtual credit card set up on my phone, so I couldn’t pay with anything other than Apple Pay (cash wasn’t an option). Over the course of my round trip, I paid roughly €16 a day in tolls. Believe me, that added up to a lot over the course of a week.

On one occasion, I was driving back calmly, listening to some good music, when suddenly the car’s display went dark, it logged out of CarPlay, and the navigation stopped working. What the hell is wrong with you… damn it, I left my phone out in the blazing sun on the passenger seat—the poor thing overheated. I could have somehow managed without the navigation—after all, there aren’t many places you can go off the highway—but my phone is my only means of payment, and the gate is right up ahead. I cranked the AC all the way up, then held the phone up to the vent, trying to cool it down before I reached the gate… phew, just barely. 100 meters before the gate, it all came back… that was hot… literally.

A few days later, I had to leave the area for good, and slowly everyone else followed suit, so we thought we might as well have one last big get-together. We chose the Airbnb apartment of a colleague as our party pad—unfortunately, he had to leave early because he tested positive for COVID, but there was still time left on his rental period. What could we do? We responsibly took over the apartment—and there were still two 5-liter kegs of beer left, plus we brought some extra just in case we ran out—so the last few days were quite exciting.

After an adventurous half-year, I’m leaving this place, but I always look back on these stories with a smile, even if there are a few bad memories mixed in. The drafty freezer building with a sea of mud at the entrance; the COVID test the doctor shoved all the way up to my brain after a few people went to learn how to surf in the 6-degree water in March and then tested positive; and the fire alarm going off at 5 a.m. when we got back to the hotel after a party that lasted until dawn. But all of that pales in comparison to the countless adventures we had. 🙂

Let’s head home now—after all, with just a slight detour, we’re off on a family vacation. Off to Italy! 😄