i've never been too good with public transportation. Orlando is looking to get a light-rail system and I want out. There's something about clutching handrails while leathery-skinned men breathe down your neck that unnerves me. But Hungarian buses, while less frightening, have their own set of quirks.
Namely, I didn't think the Tesco bus existed.
In fact, I told everyone on my team that there was no such thing as a Tesco bus. Nevermind Monika, the hotel receptionist, who pointed directly to the bus stop across the street. Disregard Tom, a trusted coworker who has lived in Hungary 3 years. "The Tesco bus is nothing more than Hungarian folklore!" I said.
Tonight, Becky and I decided to explore the town after dinner. Across the street, we see Mike walking by himself and I ask where he's going. "I'm waiting for the Tesco bus," he says. "MIKE!," I droan for what seems like the hundredth time. "There is no Tesco bus. Trust me. I've been here 5 days and I haven't seen one. They don't exist." It took some convincing, but he decided to forgo his Tesco adventure and walk with us around town. (btw, Tesco is the Hungarian version of a Super Wal-mart on steriods.) We even passed a few girls, asked them about the Tesco bus, and they pointed to the bus stop we just left. Still, I remained committed that they existed merely to perpetuate a legend and make American tourists look foolish.
And so we walked.
Midway through our conversation, I stopped, pointed, and said, "Look! A Tesco bus!"
Mike forced me to walk the entire way to Tesco as penance.