Wonders never cease

A solitary man, roaming through an extinct city can make a plot for the wonderful movie. In real life, however, it's not that fun, especially if you are that lonely traveller and there's nobody to ask. I was wandering in town Visegrad in mid-January without a map, but with this annoying thought in mind. What suddenly grabbed my attention was the pointer 'Visegrad 35P'.
Although Hungarian was all Greek to me, the direction sign undoubtedly showed the way up to the castle. But what the hell did '35P' mean? 35 minutes? Hundred metres? Moments of suffering and blaming oneself for taking this path? After hesitating for a while, I decided that unexpected adventure is anyway worth missing the last bus, and started crawling up the hill. The task was physically demanding, I must admit. The slope was rather steep, and to make matters worse, covered with a slippery thick carpet of rotting fallen leaves. Winter days are short, and I felt I had to hurry up, because in the dark it would be hardly possible to distinguish the small symbols, that appeared on the trees from time to time to mark the right direction. Sweaty and happy are two words to describe precisely what I felt at the moment of reaching the top! Territory of the fortress looked just as deserted as the sleepy city below - a good example for the deep understanding of the touristic term 'low season'. The only allusion to the recent human presence here was the new unpolished wooden fence and the fresh chips around, that filled the air with notes of pine resin fragrance.
Never called a voracious person, at that time I was really starving after an exhausting hike and was looking for a place to give some rest to humming legs. And the patron saint of all the tourists (if one exists) heard my prayers! Next to the panoramic ground a desired location appeared in the form of classical playground with fake medieval style tourist attractions. Among the displayed equipment for tortures I found the only suitable place to sit - and that was a gorgeous throne with a small table 'One photo - 200 Forints'! With my slightly rumpled cheese sandwich and a thermos of divine ginger-lemon tea I felt at least a Duchess on that throne, observing my domain in the thickening twilight.
Though I ascended through the back door, castle Visegrad finally welcomed me. That was a bit weird, but an unforgettable way to enjoy the view of the eminent Danube bend and the way its silhouette melts slowly in the blue velvet shadows of the night.