Walk Along the Maros River (PICK Bordeaux Loop)

• From the parking lot, walk toward the city on the paved road, then turn left onto the canopy walkway.
• If it’s open, it’s definitely worth walking the entire length of the canopy walkway.
• From the far end of the walkway, walk back to the parking lot, then continue straight along Strand Boulevard.
• At the end of Strand körút, the Maros Riverbank Trail begins; follow it until it joins a dirt road that leads left into a field.
• Walk out onto the field, then turn right at the corner and cut across it to the levee at the far end.
• Turn left on the levee and follow the “P” markings.
• When you return to the edge of town, turn left onto Vadászház Street, which begins as a dirt road leading from the embankment into the forest.
• Join Strand Boulevard, and turn right to return to the parking lot.

Detailed description of the hike

The Great South Great Plain Slope

From the parking lot, as you wind your way through the trees, you can purchase a ticket for the canopy walkway, which, after crossing the levee, emerges from among the trees with its robust metal structure and a tower “wrapped” around it by a slide. The narrow, 200-meter-long platform reveals the canopy level of the floodplain forest, with signs and QR codes providing information about the wildlife and the forest’s unique features. Of course, the main attraction is the 18-meter-high observation tower, from which we can barely make out the Maros River; however, the real highlight is the enclosed, circular slide, which you can use to slide back down to the ground (provided you’ve indicated your intention to do so at the entrance). Along the trail, you can also cross three suspension bridges covered with steel mesh, spanning a depth of ten meters, but for those afraid of heights, these sections can be bypassed. In the center, a rest area shaded by an umbrella shaped like an onion has been set up with benches.

A Welcome from the Gyergyó Mountains

At the end of the promenade, turn right and walk back to the parking lot, then continue straight along Strand Boulevard. On the road branching off to the right, you’ll find a snack bar, and a little further on, at the next fork in the road, you’ll come face-to-face with the beach (which also serves as an adventure park). Up to this point, only the houses built on high stilts hinted that we were walking through a floodplain; but at the end of the street, a banner warning cyclists and motorcyclists of hikers’ presence signals that we’ve reached the wooded stretch along the Maros Riverbank—the hiking trail.

Since we’re walking on the raised bank—and the water is a few meters away—we can’t yet see the river itself through the dense grove of willows and poplars and the thicket of willow bushes. There is a bench next to the shaded walkway, and signs provide information about the local wildlife. The trail soon leads out to the riverbank, to the top of the levee—we can’t go down directly to the bank because a wall-like drop-off separates the raised embankment from the water. Where the trail curves toward the riverbank, the canopy of trees opens up slightly; here you’ll find a bench where you can enjoy the tranquility of the waterfront for a while. (And, by the way, this is where we can veer off the hiking route, cutting across to the dam and “shaving off” 4 kilometers from the total distance.)

The water level of the Maros River is extremely variable; its water comes from the Transylvanian Carpathians, and its source is located in the Gyergyó Mountains. The trail follows the riverbank for a while, crossing smaller, branching ditches, and at 1–2 points, we can even descend to the water’s edge; here, the forest is at its oldest and densest, with exceptionally stately, moss-covered oaks standing guard along the hiking trail. Finally, it ends up in a small ditch, once again behind the embankment, where a dense, younger forest looms over us. Incidentally, this is where the river marks the border between Romania and Hungary—an interesting fact is that this border is redrawn every 10 years, because changes in the riverbed cause the centerline of the navigable channel to shift, and with it, the national border.

The Land of the Girl’s Breasts

When we come upon a set of tire tracks and see the field to our left, we should turn left, then immediately right at the edge of the field. Following the edge of the forest, we cross to the other side of the field, reaching the levee, beyond which the flat plains of the Great Plain, dotted with clusters of trees, open up, dotted with a few farmsteads. On the embankment, follow the “P” trail marker (to the left), though it’s impossible to get lost even without it—just follow the embankment. The name Makó is inextricably linked to red onion cultivation, which is due, on the one hand, to the alluvial soil formed from sediment deposited by the Maros River, and, on the other hand, to the ingenious cultivation methods developed to compensate for the region’s less-than-ideal climatic conditions. In this warm, dry region, seeds were not sown; instead, the onion-setting method was used: the onion does not grow large enough in a single summer, so it needs another year to mature. As a result of this cultivation method, the Makó onion was considered “large-headed”; locals referred to its flat, rounded top and shoulder-like structure as “girl’s breasts,” and this characteristic was further refined in later years.

We take a long walk along the levee toward the city; there is no shade, but all the more of a view of the plain. Soon, the abandoned railroad line “joins us” beneath the levee. Passing by factory buildings, we reach the edge of the forest again; at one point, we can veer left and leave the embankment behind, leading us back to the beach through the trees. From here, we can walk back to the parking lot along the route we’ve already explored.