Becske – Cserhátsurány (Day 42 of the OKT Hike)

Our hike begins at the Becske, Posta bus stop. There are two places in town where you can get your stamp: on the fence of the Mader ice cream shop, which closed in 2026, and at the small store on Ady Endre Street, which is open every day.

Becske lies in the Galga Valley, which serves as an important north–south transportation corridor toward Balassagyarmat. The railroad line running through the area also took advantage of the favorable geographical conditions, although it bypasses Becske entirely because, when it was built, the farmers of Becske refused to allow the railroad to pass through their land.

We turn right onto Kossuth Street; following the K+ signs, we branch off toward the Becske stupa. We pass beneath the hill where the church stands, then walk along Kossuth Road toward the eastern edge of Becske. Ahead of us looms the half-mined peak of Péter Hill, which we approach gradually as we wind our way through houses with low-pitched roofs. The asphalt ends, and our path continues through a mixed forest: groups of pine trees mingle with deciduous trees, and we pass through thickets of blackberry bushes. Following a narrowing strip of forest, we emerge into the agricultural lands of Szőlőkaljapuszta. Only the name of the settlement reminds us of the viticulture that once took place here—today, a completely different activity dominates the landscape.

Mines dominate not only land use but also the landscape. Across the way, Péter Hill still towers overhead; mining there began in 1925. Looking to the right, behind the dunes, the Fogacs Hill mine “scarred” the landscape. Both were once connected by cable cars—whose routes are clearly marked on maps—to the Nógrádsipek train station, next to which a processing plant was also established. Mining operations at the Péter Hill mine were suspended during the economic transition following the fall of communism, but production has resumed there since 2016.

We don’t spend much time along the edge of the fallow land; we turn back into the forest near a residential building. We’re now on the southern slope of Péter Hill, gradually ascending until we reach the mine’s access road. Although we’ll only be traveling a few hundred meters along it, we need to be careful of the trucks.

To the left, we turn off the busy gravel road onto a cart track made of andesite from the mountain, and continue our ascent toward the saddle of the twin-peaked Vár Hill in Szanda. The neatly arranged stones bear witness to the route’s age: as early as the 18th century, travelers between Becske and Szanda–Szandaváralja were already passing through here. Following in their footsteps, we climb through the dark forest up to the saddle of the volcanic cone.

The Cserhát is a mountain range composed primarily of sedimentary rocks. Between 10 and 15 million years ago, andesitic volcanic activity occurred in the area. Some of the lava reached the surface—which is why we find volcanic bombs scattered throughout the area as a result of the eruption—while some remained trapped underground. The latter rose above its surroundings as the softer rocks eroded, and its constituent material, andesite, proved to be very useful for road and railroad construction.

At the saddle, the Blue Trail turns left, but be sure to follow the branching KL trail to visit the most beautiful spot on the hike: Szandavár. We reach the ruins after climbing up the slope of massive, moss-covered boulders reminiscent of the Mátra Mountains. Although the remains of the walls offer a very romantic view, the true treasure of the summit is the panoramic view: you can see Naszály, the Börzsöny, and almost the entire Cserhát range, and to the east, the Mátra massif. On a clear day, looking north, you can even make out the Low and High Tatra Mountains.

The exact date of the castle’s construction is unknown; it was first mentioned in 1301. The castle and its surrounding villages had numerous owners until they fell into Turkish hands in 1546. Fed up with the raids originating from this “nest of pagans,” colonial warriors stormed the fortress—according to legend, through a secret tunnel—and slaughtered every last one of the Turkish defenders. To prevent any further occupation, the walls were eventually blown up.

Back in the saddle, the K markers lead into the cool forest on the northern mountainside. We descend along a cart track, then suddenly turn right onto a trail, which takes us to the Mary Spring. Benches lined up at the head of the valley by the abundant spring, a crucifix, and an image of the Virgin Mary indicate that visitors here can gain more than just physical refreshment.

Locals have attributed miraculous properties to the spring’s water, and several healings have been recorded. This is how the spring became a place of pilgrimage and devotional worship, where pilgrimages are still organized to this day. The statue of Mary, sheltered by a neat little wooden hut, was crafted by a resident of Szanda who, according to tradition, was healed by the spring’s water. The history of the cross is also interesting: before World War II, pilgrimages were directed all the way to the top of Péter Hill, where this crucifix originally stood. The locals moved it downhill when the ever-expanding mine began to endanger it.

We emerge from the forest next to a rest area; the road winds down toward Szandaváralja, passing through fallow fields and overgrown orchards. We reach the outermost street of the settlement belonging to Szanda, which leads down into the valley of the Szandaváraljai Stream. We cross the stream via a bridge, then turn left in front of the neat country house. Its gabled roof and terrace extending from the facade are classic Palóc features—this is the first such building along the Blue Trail. This is where we arrive in Palócföld, so we’ll encounter plenty of similar buildings in the coming villages. At the bus turnaround, we’ll find the next stamp on a Blue Trail information sign .

Szandaváralja – Cserhátsurány

We leave Szandaváralja via Jókai Street; it’s worth turning back to take in the breathtaking view: the village’s houses are “guarded” from close range by the peaks of Vár Hill and Péter Hill. We ascend toward Hucskó Hill—which, at 328 meters, is really more of a hill—along a sandy path, a feature that will characterize almost the entire length of our hike through Cserháti. Don’t expect much shade on the 4-kilometer stretch of the hike to Terény: the trail markers typically lead along the edges of fields and forests, but at least we can admire the undulating landscape of the Cserhát.

Like the other villages along the Cserhát section of the Blue Trail, Terény also lies in a stream valley, so a “classic” route leads there as well: after reaching the highest point between the two villages, we descend through farm fields to Terény.

From a transportation standpoint, the village can be considered a cul-de-sac, a fact that strongly shapes both its appearance and daily life. Due to its relative “remoteness,” the original, winding street layout and adobe houses of its center have been preserved, while later construction took place on the outskirts. The decorations on the chimneys of the gables reveal the religion of the family that built the house and the occupation of the head of the household.

We turn right next to the Romanesque-style Catholic church, pass a children’s camp and the lace museum, and soon find ourselves in the main square. We turn left past the small store and the vacant community center, and cross the Szanda Stream. It is worth noting that the town has left a wide strip of land on both banks of the stream, which once served as a floodplain. Several artificial ponds have been created along the stream to regulate its flow, transforming these areas: small-scale crop cultivation now takes place on the small plots.

We leave Terény via Mikszáth Kálmán Road, which leads to the cemetery, but before we reach the gate, we turn right onto a trail. We ascend to the forested summit of Hrabina via a cart track, then continue across open terrain. Unlike on our previous route, the forest here has not been cleared by plowed fields: the sandstone on the surface becomes slippery—that is, it erodes—when exposed to rain, making it unsuitable for agriculture; even natural vegetation struggles to take root here.

We walk straight north along a wide cart track; even where there is forest, the canopy does not close overhead. At the summit of Dobrák, we are greeted by a solitary, old acacia tree, and from there we descend through old pastureland toward Cserhátsurány. From the farm buildings in Bodóvölgy, a paved road leads to the town’s main road; we continue along this road—or along the parallel Alkotmány Street—for another kilometer until we reach the town center. The stamp is located on an information board just a few steps down Petőfi Street .

One of Csethátsurány’s most interesting buildings is the Catholic church, which is also visible on the stamp’s impression and stands in the southern part of the village. It’s worth making a (short) detour to see its octagonal tower, Gothic pointed-arch windows, and the fact that its current sanctuary was originally the nave of the 14th-century building.