Yugoslavia

It was after the Vienna seminar that we decided to drive down to Yugoslavia for a two-week camping trip in our Volkswagen bus. We had some mighty interesting experiences camping in Yugoslavia in 1957. We had purchased a camping guide for Europe, and in it we found that a camp at Bala Czirka was on our way. It was described as comparatively lavish, as East European camps go, so we looked forward to a comfortable, restful overnight and hot showers. We followed the road directions to the camp. Soon, our route took us off the main road onto a rough dirt road. Then the instructions indicated a right turn into what was not a dirt road but a primitive wagon trail. Could this lead us to the beautiful camp at Bala Czirka? Sure enough, after about two miles on this bumpy backwoods road we arrived at Bala Czirka. It was a very small village, and there was no camp there at all. Fortunately, a Yugoslav participant from the international student seminar in Austria was accompanying us - and serving as guide. As the local people began to assemble around us, he determined that there was no campground at all there, but that we could simply camp overnight on a small green meadow in the middle of the village. At first, the men of the village came out to see us and our strange vehicle and our camping pup tents as we set them up. They formed a circle, and at the head of the circle stood three men - the mayor, the school teacher, and the Orthodox priest. Soon, as we worked away readying the tents and preparing our evening meal, the men gave way to the village women, who replaced them on the circle. The villagers were curious and bold, but friendly. It was quite an experience for us in this isolated corner of the world.

We later found that there was another Bala Czirka, but in nearby Hungary. That was the one with the good camp. Our camping guidebook had mixed them up.

Next morning we packed up the tents and sleeping bags and stowed them in the car, this time once more under the gaze of the curious villagers.

Peg said, "Let me drive. These people may never have seen a woman driver." So she got in the driver's seat, waved to them, and with great speed and verve swerved the Volkswagen bus around and took off back the way we had come. We watched out the rear window as the villagers gaped in amazement.

Soon we returned from Europe to Alfred and picked up where we had left off.

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