HUNGARY: LOW PLAINS DRIFTING

We thought we knew Hungary of old: crossing the country by bicycle en route to Istanbul, by car going to Bulgaria's Black Sea and three times by lorry, taking aid to Romanian orphanages. But the only real way to know a country is to explore it by motorhome and bicycle and now was our chance.

From Graz in eastern Austria, we crossed the border into Hungary at Heiligenkreuz (Holy Cross). It took only a few moments - no visa - and the border guard looking inside the motorhome was just being nosy! But you have crossed into a different world. The language itself is unique; the horse-riding Magyars brought it from central Asia. If you want the police, shout 'rendorség'; 'fagylalt' will bring you an ice-cream from a 'bolt' or shop. As recently as 1989, this border was the only gateway to freedom for thousands of trapped East Germans; these are the newly-opened rooms in what Gorbachev called our 'European Home'.

We drove north-east on good single-carriageway roads, past Lake Balaton, Hungary's favourite holiday spot. This shallow, freshwater lake (the largest in Central Europe) has 125 miles of sandy shore and its southern edge is lined with campsites and resorts. The quiet roads are ideal for cycling, scenic railway lines run along both shores and, in summer, steamers ply the warm waters. By mid-September, all was still.

The Caravan Club lists 18 sites in and around Budapest and we chose the suburban Camping Flora, only 15 minutes from the centre by bus. The capital city, a rival for Paris or Vienna, straddles a curve in the Danube: Buda on one bank, Pest on the other, linked by several fine bridges. The Romans built here and many layers of history can be uncovered in Buda's Castle District.

Continuing north and east, we stayed at Camping Autos in Eger, with its famous Bull's Blood red wine, wonderful castle and Turkish minaret (30p each to climb). In Miskolc-Tapolca we stayed at Camping Eden, which the Rough Guide calls 'a ghastly campsite like a manicured parking lot'. We liked it.

Aggtelek, north of Miskolc, has its own campsite and 17 miles of stalactite caves which run under the border into Slovakia. After stopping to buy 'the Wine of Kings, the King of Wines' in Tokaj, we were welcomed to Sarospatak by Camping Tengerszem, once it had decided that it was still open.

Sarospatak has an excellent castle, open to the public. The bridge over the River Bodrog, just below the castle, leads out onto the top of the 250-mile-long Great Plain, formed by the River Tisza as it meanders south to join the Danube just north of Belgrade.

This is wonderful country, the Puszta – grassland, mists, horses, Hungarian cowboys (rough-riding csikos), long-horned grey cattle, tiny sheep-dogs and villages untouched by time. Cycling in the nearby Zemplen hills, we had views of the Ukraine, Romania and Transylvania to the east, with the Carpathian Mountains beyond.

Noticing that Slovakia lay just to the north, we crossed without problem at Sátoraljaujhely. This eastern half of the former Czechoslovakia is a contradictory mixture of unspoilt forest, towering mountains and isolated areas of heavy industry on the edge of concrete high-rise Stalinist towns. We loved the open spaces, the lack of fences or any sense of private ownership, the untouched woodland that stretches for miles, the low prices, the quiet roads, the simplicity of life. Unwashed, slightly over-weight and road-worn as she was, Rosie glowed in the admiring glances of many a Slovakian male.

We drove to the Tatra Mountains, spending a few days at Eurocamp, an airport-like campground (like the runway, not the terminal building) north of Poprad. It was just a tram-ride from the campsite to the mountain resort of Stary Smokovec, from where cable-cars can take you up into the rocky and snow-covered 8,800ft Tatras. But they were nothing to us - we had cycled higher!

Remembering that we were supposed to be going to Greece, we turned south-west and crossed back into Hungary at Komarom (Camping Juno) where the Danube forms the still-disputed border. At nearby Esztergom, the magnificent cathedral looks down on a bridge which is still shattered from its Second World War bombing.

A visit to Gyor (Camping Piheno) was followed by a few days in Sopron (Camping Lover), Hungary's most historic city, on Roman foundations with its medieval heart still intact. Throughout this area, many campsites are open all year, catering for German-speakers seeking eternal youth in hot spas and improved smiles in the low-cost dentists, all their good work being quickly undone in the cheaper-still and excellent cake-and-coffee shops.

We crossed back into Austria west of Szombathely, pausing to fill our 200-litre tank with diesel at 44p per litre. We will return to Hungary one spring when the storks are nesting, the sunflowers are turned to the morning sun and the plaintive voice of the Great Plains drifts across this distant land.

Practically

We used the 1:300 000 Reise und Verkehrsverlag maps, the Lonely Planet and Rough Guides and the Caravan Club's Continental Sites Guide and Handbook, Volume 2. An American, returning Stateside, gave us the German Europa Camping and Caravanning Guide and the Dutch Campings (ANWB Camping Gids) Volume 2: each excellent in its own way and heavy enough to require spring assisters. The Hungarian Tourist Board supplies a free camping booklet which includes dates of opening (PO Box 4336, London SW18 4XE, tel: 0891 171200 – a premium rate number).