Well, I never knew what a monsoon type of rain was. Now I know. I bet even Noah didn't have it harder. Well, it was a fun event, and a tale to be told.
So. On every St Stephen's day (20th of August) there is a huuuuge festival, going on for days. St Stephen (our St Stephen) was the first Hungarian saint, king, and probably the first catholic Hungarian as well. So, it is like St Patrick's day, only quintupled. And, to top it off, there are huge fireworks on the 20th, which go on for about half an hour.
I am quite lucky, because I live on the hill around which the fireworks start, so I have to climb up on a street (5 mins), and I am right there, able to watch half of it without any trouble and without waiting on the same spot for hours, afraid that people will take it. So, I always climb up around 20:55, and stand there, where the road is closed, and watch the fireworks. They are quite pretty as well.
This day I went as well. We saw the huge stormclouds approaching, they were quite dark and fluffy, and around half past eight we saw the first thunder. But who cares, when in 5 minute walk you get back to the nice comfy, warm towels, dry clothes and a hairdryer I need rather badly right now. And of course the air was warm, humid and bit too hot - just as I like it.
So we climb up, watching the approaching thunders and starting fireworks. Only five minutes in, the wind starts to blow. Blow half a tree in my face. Then comes the earth I dunno where the wind got that from, but hey, I'm game, I love the summer rain and thunderstorms, I really do.
So I close my eyes and wait for the next shiney firework and the rain. First come a few drops, nothing to be scared of. Then, with no warning at all, all hell breaks lose, and here is the monsoon raging on, blowing the other half of that tree in my face. Not to mention drenching me that even my underwear was soaked.
So we do the only doable thing; we take refuge under the roof of the restaurant that is right beside us. But the restaurant is rather fancy, so they only let us get squashed to the outside wall, saved from the rain - momentarily. The fireworks go on, they get muzzy, then they stop. The monsoon won - apparently. We get drenched again, so we are let in to the hall, which is an open kind of space. It is windy, and we are flirting with phneumonia, but it's hell of an evening, and I still love it. The rain rages on. We are watching amazed as trees fly by (by bits) and the rain hides the streetlights. Darn, it was one hell of a thunderstorm - like it wanted to make an impression on us, because we don't have much more of the summer.
Well, the rain gets a bit thinner, so I push my way out, and try to head home. The first problem is, that there is no road. There is a lake, tho, tending towards a river of dark, murky water. So I find the thinnest part, and picking up my long, drenched skirt, step right in the middle - and out of it. My sandals are drenched as well, I don't really care about that, but trying to walk swiftly and quickly in a long, drenched, heavy, sticking-to-the-skin skirt... if you haven't tried, you don't know the real meaning of the word "difficult". So I decided to hell with modesty, picked up my skirt, till it only covered the essential parts (wet T-shirts, anyone?), and made a splash for it. The road home was downwards, water flowing out of the sewers - lucky that I didn't have to walk through that water, I just had to walk through the normal, murky water flowing down the streets, water still pouring down on me... Well, when we actually got home, we were soaked through the skin, leaves sticking out of our hair and... dripping.
Well, it was fun. Now that I am in warm, dry clothes and my hair is drying as well... I kind of miss it... It was fun.
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In addition, when the storm was over, it seems like it tore out two trees out of the neigbor's garden, and a streetlamp fell on the neighbor's car, squashing it flat. Cops came and looked around. looks dead to me. The poor sod.
And the poor trees... don't get me started.
Oh, and I'm drinking white rum because I started shivering. Hope I won't get a cold. If only I could stop singing "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest"...
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