Critical Mass

When I turned the corner into Dub Utca I almost choked on my Kebab as I found myself trapped in the middle of what appeared to be the annual southern migration stampede of the Hungarian bicycle.  I am not exaggerating when I say that literally thousands upon thousands of bicycles were being peddled in a cavalier fashion through the streets of Budapest.  What could this be?  A terrorist attack?  A Hungarian petrol crisis?  A world record attempt for the largest bicycle tour group?

As I was pondering this thought – and running for safety to the nearest doorway - I was handed a leaflet.  I mopped the mayo from my chin and read:

“Raise your two-wheeled metal lump of loveliness in the air!  Hug your bike like it’s the spouse you haven’t seen for 13 years after serving a jail sentence for slashing car tires!  Kiss the handlebars that bring you joy every day as you roll around the city!  Why? Because its time for Budapest’s Critical Mass once again.”

Yes, in a cry of protest against pollution and congestion in the city, every cyclist worth their salt grabs hold of their beloved two-wheeled vehicle and bikes across the city from Hero’s square to Buda park.  Then, in what seems like a war cry, each person holds their bike above their heads and shout “Whaaaaaaaa” (or something very similar to that). 

The Critical Mass event of Budapest happens twice a year and has raised an awareness of environmental issues to the Hungarian government with more than 30km of cycle paths being constructed each year as a result of this campaign.  Are you impressed?  I finished my kebab and “walked” to my hostel.