"I didn’t arrive as a tourist, and I don’t return as a visitor. Once, with only a thousand forints in my pocket and fear in my heart, I crossed the border - but Budapest didn’t swallow me whole; it brought me to life. Join me where the cobblestones have stories to tell, and every bite holds a memory."
The next morning, I set off into the unknown. Literally. I had no idea where I was going, what awaited me, or what kind of work I would be doing. All I knew was that I would be met at the station in Győr, I would have free accommodation, and the job was in agriculture. It was mid-February. I thought to myself: What could go wrong? Probably greenhouses and vegetables - I had done that as a child with relatives in the countryside; it wouldn't be a problem. The world was different back then; it never even crossed my mind that I could be in danger. Looking back today, seeing how circumstances have changed, I’m not sure I would dare to take such a reckless step again.
I was met at the Győr station and driven to the outskirts, to a massive, beautiful house. I felt a sense of relief - the appearance of wealth suggested security. However, in the yard stood a strange, enormous black plastic tent. A dark, cavernous entrance gaped at the side, impossible to see into. I had never seen anything like it in my life and couldn't even imagine what they were growing inside.
My accommodation was a simple small apartment converted from an outbuilding. Old furniture, two beds, but it was warm and relatively cozy. I quickly looked for a nearby shop to buy a survival kit for the first week with my remaining money. I knew I wouldn't have much time, as I was told the work started at night. My basket held only one liter of milk, a package of lard, and ten bread rolls. Nothing else.
Although cooking was my "love language" back home, and I was used to rich, flavorful Hungarian dishes, I now had to make do with bread and lard. As I walked back, the aroma of a nearby lángos stand stung my nose. It wasn't as expensive then as it is today, but for me, those few forints meant survival. I would have given anything for a good cup of coffee.
Then the secret was revealed: the black tents hid button mushrooms. My task was mushroom picking. At the time, I didn't yet realize that what initially seemed like "just a job" would soon turn into a true nightmare.
"Because Budapest is more than a destination: Budapest is a feeling. Come, let’s see what’s around the next corner together."