For Rent: A Hungarian Village, and a Mayoral Title

Kristof Pajer's plan to transform Hungary's smallest village into a rural vacation paradise had not been going as well as hoped. Bookings were light. Renovations were slow. Money was scarce.

But then, he hit upon a new scheme: Instead of renting Megyer's handful of available cottages one by one, why not just offer the entire village?

"People were using the whole village anyway, so why not?" said Pajer, 42, who recently began a third term as mayor of Megyer, population 18, winning 100 per cent of the vote ("Putin results!" he exulted).

And so, for about $700 a night, almost anyone can become the official deputy mayor of Megyer, controlling seven refurbished and quaintly decorated cottages sleeping up to 40 people, the town hall, local barns full of chickens, cows and sheep, a shaggy village dog named Csikas, a gazebo, a barbecue grill, a fleet of renovated antique bicycles, a pig-slaughtering facility, a classroom for training sessions and a private pub and canteen surrounded by about 1,000 acres of country lanes, meadows, woods and vegetable patches.

There is even a miniature indoor basketball court, but to be used it would have to be cleared of racks of smoked paprika sausages, tubs of curing pork, boxes of dusty potatoes and a crate of small yellow onions in a nest of crackling skins.

As deputy mayors, the renters may rename the village streets - both of them - and will receive an official street sign and a certificate to take home.

"It really started as a joke," said Barbara Balogh, marketing director for Charming Country Hotels of Hungary, a consortium of 10 small family-run hotels (and one village) that pool advertising efforts. "It is amazing how many people are taking an interest in our funny little village."

The idea, announced February 23 on a certified advertising website, was picked up by Hungarian media outlets, and it has spread to news reports across Europe and a few places even farther afield.

Pajer just shrugged and shook his head over a cup of coffee last week in a McDonald's off the motorway in the Budapest suburb where he runs a business repairing heavy construction equipment.

"We hoped we would get some notice, but we never expected to get the attention we got," he said. "Let's face it. It's in the middle of nowhere."

A year ago, he said, he normally got two or three inquiries a day about village rentals. "Yesterday alone, I got more than 400," he said. In the first 10 days, there were 17 bookings, including a large group from Holland.

The road to Megyer leads southwest from Budapest for two hours, through the Somlo wine district and its steep, rocky vineyards before dipping south, crossing the Marcal River and curving into the small cluster of pale cottages that is the village.

Gusztav Egly, 62, the on-site caretaker, moved between the old municipal offices and the construction site for a new sauna, a hatchet in his hand.

"In order for this to become a true holiday village, there is still work to be done," he said, pointing to a tottering wooden fence near a chicken coop held up by wire and weeds. "That is my project for next week."

Heat in the village comes from firewood, biomass pellets and the occasional electric heater. Propane fires the only gas-burning stove. The sole Internet connection is a weak Wi-Fi signal in the municipal offices; there is one television, and there are no landline phones.

Egly pulled open the door to the 150-year-old municipal building, strode to the reception desk and slapped the bell. Eniko Bakonyi, 52, the office manager and only other full-time employee, emerged from a chilly backroom. With no guests at the moment, the buildings were all kept bracingly cold, forcing Egly and Bakonyi to wear their winter coats indoors.

The air was perfumed with wood smoke. Antlers and other trophies of the hunt decorated the small rooms, separated by thick, low doorways that forced Egly and Bakonyi to bend as they passed.

Artwork leaned toward the devotional, with euphoric saints staring at the sky, or the folkloric. Straw sculptures hung from the wooden beams in a former cow barn that is now the canteen and bar.

Locally made apple juice, marmalades and syrups were for sale, and a battered piano rested against a thick stone wall.

Megyer, officially declared by Hungary as the country's smallest remaining village in terms of acreage and number of structures, was under threat of disappearing altogether, like dozens of other remote villages deserted by the young.

"I wanted to make sure we would not end up like those other places," Pajer said.

Still, there was a fair amount of skepticism when Pajer floated the idea of renting some of the houses to overnight guests. But once the residents saw the money that the mayor was able to draw from the European Union and other entities to support his project, and the gradual renovation of one home after another, the grumbling ceased.

"I was a little surprised at the announcement that they would rent the entire village," said Lajos Ignacz, 50, who arrived here 16 years ago. "But I'm glad, as it only brings more guests. I'm guessing at some point, we residents will be for rent, too."

Pajer first came to Megyer in 2004 to look at a property that his wife's family owned. He talked a friend into buying another property in the village, and then persuaded another and another. After a few years, a network of acquaintances had getaways in Megyer.

A rock music fan, Pajer also manages a pair of well-known Hungarian bands, Sex Action and Hollywoodoo. His first project in Megyer was establishing an annual, weeklong music festival during the last week of June that draws 1,000 campers. (Tickets are capped at that level.)

In 2006, Pajer was elected mayor and soon became adept at applying for government subsidies and grants, drawing a total of about $700,000 into the village.

"In 2010, we had, per capita, the highest amount of EU subsidies in Hungary," he said proudly.

By this winter, after 13 of the village's 20 structures had been renovated, he decided to start his rent-the-village scheme. It runs as a cooperative, with the owners of the available cottages as members. In the unlikely event there is ever a profit, Pajer said, whatever money that is not plowed back into the property would be split among the owners.

People have inquired about holding weddings in the village, as well as birthday celebrations, corporate training events, even costume parties complete with masks and evening gowns.

"Nothing surprises me anymore," Pajer said.