Monday 15 August 2016

Romania, the remaining days...

August 2nd

Today is only the 4th day of my trip and I feel I am already learning so much. Or rather getting reminders about past learnings I should never have put aside. I will come back to that later...

Guess what?

Last night was no night that would have helped convince any of my Moroccan friends to start liking camping.

Once it got totally dark, I could hear in the surrounding woods, gun shots here and there, and dog barks. After all, I had done enough reading to know about wolf and bear hunt in this region. So fine, I am on a camp site, surrounded by houses and dogs, so no need to worry. Both wolves and bears will be to scared to come close...

I got brutally awoken in the middle by what sounded like a running bear coming crossing the little meadow of the camp site and getting closer and closer. Whaaaaaaaat?! No way! How come no dog rang the alarm?! And BAM!!! All of a sudden all the dogs around start barking like crazy! Shit! You can't be serious! Then I hear what sounded like a bear going through some plastic trash about a meter away from my head. I stop moving. My body freezes, and I damn myself for having kept a banana in my tent. (Besides being omnivores, bears love sugary stuff). I was in a similar situation back when I was 14 years old, and a bear snuck into our wood cabin in the Algonquin park. Then I heard the noises going away. I takes me a while to dare even sniffle, and move. I quickly unzip my tent door and throw the banana as far as I can.

But this threat kept on coming back and forth all night. And for whatever reason, right by my head side. Probably where the group of Romanian campers had decided to drop their cooking stuff and food reserve for the night. Perhaps all these noises was just one of them sleep walking drunk trying to find his way to the dry toilet in the far end of the meadow. After all, the noise their snoring was making could easily have been mistaken for a snoring bear as well.

So, to end such a delightful night, and while I am dying for the sun to rise so I can witness the the light splashing the spectacular landscape outside (the reason why I decided to camp here last night), it starts raining...drizzling at first, but soon, the drizzle turns into pouring rain...and, to add yet another surprise to the collection of what would have demotivated quite many, I realize that my tent is actually NOT waterproof! Ha! Good morning Gregory! Are you sure you want to spend any more time in Transylvania? Hahaha!

At first I thought the drops appearing in the inside layer were the results of the morning dew. After all, we are in a humid mountainous area with quite a bit of fog. But no, no dew, just not waterproof.

Thank God the inside layer part mosquitoes net, part shading layer, was absorbing most of the water and preventing it from pouring inside the tent...for now at least. But for how long would that last?

So, two options: get out, freeze my butt off and get sick again trying to pack up my tent for the firs time, or, fall back asleep, with the sound of the rain for lullaby until water starts actually pouring in on me.

I voted for option 2. Since I was the sole voter I won. Hehe!

It was 6:30am.

So morning siesta for me...at least now I could get some sleep. :0)

9am, enough sleep, this time I really need to pee. But am not going out just to pee, freeze my bum, and come back in my tent. Oh, the rain is still going strong.

So, I get dressed, warmly, pants, calf socks, 3 top layers and a rain top. I take all my valuables with me, pack my bag and flip it up side up with its rain cover on, in case it starts pouring water into the tent and onto my bag. And out I go.

Magical spectacle!!! It is as if the campsite is in the middle of a cloud, carpeted with green grass. Beautiful!

I go to the peepee room, in the woods. Happy to see that my urine is good (my kidneys are working well despite only ingesting water for the past 60 hours), and no stool whatsoever. Seems that the fast has worked. Yay! I will try to eat some food again today. The food in this region is supposed to be sooooo delicious!

It is only 10:40am...

Oh yes, to go back to my first paragraph, about the learning/reminder.
I am realizing how long of a way I have come ever since I discovered Vipassana and fully seen it in practice during the year I spent traveling with Angelina.

Despite all the complications that have come my way for the past 4 days, I don't feel anything but laughter. Really. After all, why get mad at thing I have no power over? Situations I haven't caused. And if they were situations I had caused, all i could would be to get mad at myself.
But even then, what for?

So I continuously catch myself laughing at the accumulating situations. Wondering if they are actually signs I should change my route, or rather learning I need to experience and persist. After all, I am meeting such kind people anyway. So we'll see...

11:30am...already had herbal tea and boiled cob of corn. Feels good to eat again. But I try to be fully conscious of the reactions in my body before allowing myself to ingest more foods.

Later finally dared to taste the famous placenta. I just had to. It was so delicious. I so wish I could have eaten half a dozen of those...filled with home made blue berry jam.

It is still pouring rain and not a glimpse of hope for the sky to clear out. Long debate, go, stay, wait.

I go pack my tent in the pouring rain. Challenging, but done well and fast. Proud of myself. And I hit the road. I start walking down in the rain, thumb up.

My first ride of the day, a young local couple, is probably the most cautious driver ever. Way to cautious if you ask me.

Second ride, after I buy bananas, Romanian handyman working in French Burgundy region, with his Spanish blurbing girlfriend. These guys are hilarious. He drives like mad while she keeps on throwing Spanish affection/love phrases at him: the quiero mi Amor! Aiii que calor! No puedo vivir sin ti! Etc... The funny part is that he doesn't understand a word of Spanish. But somehow, the ways of love, he knows exactly what she means. And so the whole ride is paced by laughter and smiles.

Where our roads split apart, he wants to buy me tea and chit chat. And so we share some more laughter.

It stopped raining.

Then I am in for a good two hour walk, half rain half dry. But darn hot. I got to the point where I almost thought I would not get a ride. But I purposefully refuse to take the local bus to get to my destination, and remain hopeful.

Third or fourth ride, I don't remember. Crazy driver...like all of them. Not a word exchanged for a good 60 km. As my destination arrives, i am a bit worried as the pouring rain is chasing us. I need to anticipate an extra favor to get his help and place to sleep. I start chatting. He finally breaks a smile. Somehow, like before, sign language and noises seems tondo just fine to communicate ideas across

He drops me off in front of a pizzeria. Thank God there is a young lady in the kitchen who speaks English. She tries for good 30 minutes to find me a cheap room online. No success but tells me to go check nearby for Elga. I walk out in the rain. No Elga. So I keep walking, following my instinct.

I finally make it to the local Bus station which holds a big tourist (mostly for local tourists) info sign. Perhaps there I will find lodging information.

I meet super duper fun older guy. Alban, who lived a long time in Spain, as well as in Rio, formerly married to a carioca. So we have a lot to chat about. Especially his life abroad, but also why he returned home and how he feels now.

Before night falls he indicates me a little restaurant where to grab a quick bite before the micro van who will take me to the cheap hostel he found me arrives. I can finally start discovering the local cuisine. So i order the traditional soup, ciorpa. The absolute best soup!

And well, as we got chatty with Alban, i end up missing the bus. I hadn't realized how sharp punctual buses are in Romania. So I wait another 2,5 hours, while watching the sun setting over this old town and turning the sky to all the possible hues from orange to purple. A spectacle!  Turda is known for being an old  mining industrial town from communist times Romania. But the industry is no longer and now it seems local tourism has taken over a bit with its salt mine up cycling. The left over buildings give it quite some charm, and all the people I have met are surprisingly nice thus far. In some ways, it reminds me of Medan and its "wrong" reputation.

The Bus finally arrives, at 22:19, and departs at 22:20 sharp.

Half way through, i see this kid getting off the bus and walking into a dark alley all by himself, holding his smartphone before him. The kid was actually playing Pokemon go, in this town, in the middle of nowhere!!!

And so i ended up spending the night in a little village called Cornesti, in Hotel Ciprian. Beautiful little wooden chalet style hotel, for less than 10 euros. The facilities were perfectly fine for such a price. Almost too comfortable. I get there by 23:15. The owner was waiting for me.

I take a long hot shower, do some quick hand washing of boxers and socks, and off to bed. What a long day...

August 3rd

Wonderful awakening by the sound of the flirting doves scratching on the roof gutter across my window, and the sun shinning beautifully. I jump out of bed, pumped up with energy, ready to eat the day!

But I start eating the grapefruit I had so carefully saved for the past few days. It is actually rotten. Bummer! I will grab breakfast later on then.

The power pole in front of the hostel has a stork nest on top of it. I hear myself saying out loud "salam salam". A little wink to Morocco this morning, where stork nests are all over.

The micro bus crosses the town, showing me a large part of it which I didn't get a chance to see last night and actually find it gorgeous. Had I known I would have perhaps planned to spend more time here. Yet again, I am sure that every single town here, given its history and good conservation from the past, or rather should I say, its none infrastructure evolution is quite beautiful with such a blue sky and shining sun. (I find incredible how a few sun rays can totally change the energy exuding from a place.

So yes, the bus drops me of in front of a large Romanian souk (hehe! Couldn't help but to sneak in a Moroccan reference here again). Lots of fruits and veggies. The air seems so filled with good vibrations. It is going to be an even greater day, I feel it!

Two options: take another bus, which means wait and get locked into a vehicle; or a 45 minutes walk in the sun and steep uphill, which means a chance to discover the town further, and why not, get a nice view overlooking the whole town and its valley.

I obviously walked. And what a walk! The salt mine was way further than I thought, I am a bit concerned about my timing to catch the 2:30pm bus back in town to head East to Sighisoara...well, and have the time for another yummy soup beforehand.

For whatever reason, I can't seem to not have expectation when I am about to discover a new place. So my expectation for this up cycled salt mine was quite high. I know this always plays tricks on me and leads to disappointment.

The mine is actually spectacular. Its hugeness is just breathtaking. But what they have done inside, arranging a gigantic plain gray cartwheel, ping pong tables, pool tables, bowling alleys, mini golf, etc...could have been done so much better, actually bringing the mine back to life again. But on the contrary, it all seems dead, or rather like most villages I have crossed so far...struggling to keep up with post communism era.

The more I think about it, the more I catch myself thinking about the fact that life, just like happiness, is all about the journey, not the destination. Though so far my path has been filled with quite several relatively easily manageable challenges, each minute of it has been just as fascinating as each of the destinations I was aiming for for.

Coming out of the mine I realized there was another entrance, only 10 minutes away from the city center. It made me laugh. Had I known, I would never have gotten to see the beautiful panoramic views of the city and its valley. I would have missed a great walk.

So I walked back to the center, not really feeling silly, but rather happy  from the outcome my ignorance produced.

This city is really pleasant, but as pleasant as it is, and like in the rest of the places I have seen so far, no one is smiling in the streets. It gives the impression that Romanians are ice cold, at least from the outside. But as soon as you break the ice and talk to them, the smiles come out. Which is a bit of a shame. I am sure that if they actually smiled right up front, the surrounding energy and atmosphere would be much warmer.

Given my health giving me clear signs that I should get out of Transylvania, my new plan was to head South East to Sighisoara, to finally make my way to what Transylvania is famous for: its citadels and castles. Before my bus (I decided to take a little break and try the bus for once), I had a bit of time, well, enough to wander around the city, and most importantly, eat! So I ate. The food here has been so great so far. I am glad my 60 hours of fast paid off. It would have been a nightmare to not be able to eat while here.

The bus rides were rather boring. As expected. Enough to make me want to not take the bus anymore.

Making my way up to the citadel of Sighisoara was quite spectacular compared to what I have seen so far. Mostly because of the contrast. Switching from post communism industrial cities or rural villages to medieval castles and citadelles is quite a change!

I found a decent youth hostel, with a fantastic bed right below a small window letting enough cool air enter and pour down on my bed. Perfect!

Huge plus, this week is classical music festival here. Which means that just about every building turns into a rehearsal place for all sorts of groups and instruments. And trust me, hearing the piano or the violin non stop while walking around a medieval citadel, falling asleep or waking up is just priceless.

During dinner I finally decided to start reading (after a good dozen years) the astrological study my mom had sourced for me based on all the details of my birth. I have had it for such a long time now but hadn't really looked at it since. It moved me to tears to read some of the passages explaining precisely everything that had happened in my life thus far, and the stuff that was going through my mind lately. It felt so surreal yet so relieving at the same time to finally see the words on paper explaining such complex things which I had never really tried to make sense of.

I ventured to try yet another local dish for dinner. This time, not a real success. Half a kilogram of soft polenta topped by matured cheese, pieces of bacon and soir cream. If only the cheese were so matured. Oh well...

The sun sets so late that after dinner I even had extra time to give another walk around of the citadel before night fall.

A young couple, married a few days ago as it seemed, a Romanian woman and a Kuwaiti man, were doing a photo shoot, a trash the dress kind of shoot. They were taking the most romantic shots. At one point, she was up an ancient tall wooden tower in the little garden where I was reading, and he was doing his Romeo, at the bottom of the tower, singing to her a love song in Arabic. The sun was setting. I couldn't focus on anything else but to watch the modern, globalized version of Romeo and Juliette playing in front of me. A Muslim man singing his love to catholic woman on a middle age wooden tower, in a post communism country watched by a more or less Buddhist French man living in a Muslim monarchy. Beautiful way to end the day.

More moving was that she even knew how to thank and congratulate him in Arabic. He went up the tower to pick her up, in her wedding dress. Once down, she made him sing for a young local couple who was also watching the scene.

Then, because i had been observing them for the past half hour, she also made him come sit on my bench, and sing for me while she was standing behind him smiling. They were flying back to Kuwait the next day, man and wife (or wives?)

A French man living in Morocco, chatting in Romania, with a Brazilian guy living in Ireland (the other guy sleeping in the dorms that night), the Camino de Santiago in Spain. That's the beauty of globalization, of backpacking, and that's how I ending my day and went off to bed...to the sound of a piano lightly playing right under my window, through out the night...

August 4th

I woke up pretty early as i really wanted to wander around the citadel before the tourists took it over for the day.

The citadel being so small, I quickly went around and realized there was not much I hadn't gotten a chance to already see last night. So after a quick, yet very quiet and peaceful tour, I headed out to grab a non touristy and rather cheap local breakfast. Well, I let myself be drowned to this hole in the wall bakery making and selling fresh out of the oven stuffed pretzels and other pastries.

At first I was shy and only picked one pastry stuffed with something I didn't understand, but it looked yummy, and so I bought it, and off I went.

Ha! First bite into it, delicious!!!!! It was some sort of baked dough stuffed with a sausage and cheese. It was so good that it didn't take me long to turn around and head back to the bakery. Then I perhaps exaggerated a bit...as I reordered one of those hot dogs, plus one of each of the stuffed pretzels. I think I had about a kilogram of pastries in my arms. Hmmm...I felt a bit silly when I walked out with this huge paper bag, but I jus couldn't resist.

I went to sit in the sunny and quiet park nearby, to breath in the cool and fresh morning air before the city got too loud and busy. And well, I stuffed myself with as much as I could...but one big stuffed pretzel remained, and you should have seen the face of this poor older beggar in the park where he realized I had just given him a whole still warm pretzel. I was rewarded by such a big smile.

Breakfast eaten, my mind was set, off to the next destination further east. Off to Brasov, at last.

I packed and picked up my bag and back on the road, thumb up for another ride and destination almost 200km away. The adventure continues.

It took a good 15 in the bright morning sun to hitch a ride, from a Romanian man named Vasily who didn't speak anything else but Romanian. He also happened to be a weapon manufacturer and dealer. Low priced and locally commercialized weapons I assume given the low key car he was driving.

I have been so surprised to observe throughout my trip this far, and actually my other trips before, that it is always the ones who have the least who are willing to share whatever they have, while the ones who have the most will almost always make sure to not share what they have. Concrete example here is the fact that the only cars who stop to pick up hitchhikers are low key cars, drivers, courtiers, delivery men, handymen, etc... and I am pretty sure they are not doing so because they need the company while driving, but rather by kindness and compassion. It seems the ones owning fancy cars are perhaps afraid to get robbed and get their car dirtied. Hmmm...this observation and thought has been floating in my mind for a few days now, I need more time and experiences to know what to make out of it, especially compared to other parts of the world.

Vasily was quite nice and tried to engage in conversations, however complex they could get given the language barrier. But anyway, he even offered to share his small sandwich when. We took a stop on the side of the road. I kindly rejected his offer. The morning pretzels were still trying to make their way down, one by one...

The entry to Brasov was quite spectacular. Right away I knew I would like this city. Topped by quite a high hill with a "Hollywood" like sign on it saying "BRASOV", the city center is this huge ancient German built citadel mixing more contemporary houses and shops with old and beautiful structures. At the center of the main square, a giant black church built to contain 5000 people!

This city is quite interesting as the citadel was built by the Germans during their occupation. To the right of it you have the Romanian neighborhood and to the left of it, the Austrian neighborhood, both built outside the citadel, and only Germans were allowed to live in the citadel back then.

The fascinating part about Brasov is that it is at the origin of the Dracula legend. Indeed, back in the days, the head of the city won had spent several years in exile in what is now Turkey, had brought back, among many other less war related and negative learnings, the technique of impaling, to which he took a serious liking as to how to punish his enemies. Later on it was said that Vlad the Impaler even took a liking to drinking his victims blood as a way to absorb their souls and strength. And this is what inspired much later on, the legend of Dracula. The very peculiar thing about it all is that Dracula and vampires have to this day never existed in Romanian folk culture while the whole worlds associates Romania with Dracula and vampires.

I quickly found an absolutely fantastic hostel in the heart of the citadel. Incredibly kind and helpful staff, and inspirational quotes and photos all over the place. I smiled and knew I had made a great choice by coming here today.

I drank my Welcome beer, unpacked, changed and hit the streets. So many things, mostly buildings and little streets reflecting the architectural contrasts between the occupiers.

It is really funny to see all the memorabilia all over the city about Dracula.

Anyhow, i let myself be convinced to try one of these free walking tours. After all why not try this new way to discover the city and learn historical and cultural facts about it while being able to ask as many questions as possible?! I am usually not at all a tour/guide person but it seemed there was so many elements to know about this city and country in order to grasp it deeper that I might as well.

So I had a few hours to kill and explore before the 2.5hr tour, which happened to be during sunset. Perfecto!

I start with a soup and lemonade lunch, my favorite usual.  Then off I go in the heat. I actually went after every site we were about to see during the tour. It allowed me to get take more time to see each place and be able to fully focus on the guide speech during the tour.

I get to the meeting point right in time. We are a good 20 people. (We took a nice group photo at the end) people of al ages and nationalities. Surprisingly I caught myself more interested by the content of the tour than by meeting people during the tour.

Nonetheless, i am so glad I went, as not only was the content extremely interesting, but I actually ended up meeting some Argentinians. Ha! I was so thrilled to get to speak Spanish. So we all ended up having diner together at a local restaurant. Another soup for me, and a gigantic desert which got me totally full. You know the craving you have before you eat a greasy burger, you just must have it now! And once you have just finished it, you totally regret it? That feel is what I felt after I ate that dessert pronounced "papanash".

I literally couldn't move after so much food that I went straight to bed.

August 5th

Today I decided to take it easy. Well, at least in the morning. Slowly waking up, showering and doing a bit of hand laundry. Walking around for a little breakfast, and well, planning something a bit more active for the afternoon.

And so by mid day I headed up the ski area of Brasov, called Poiana Brasov in order to go pick up a mountain bike in had booked in town.

My plan was simple: rather than doing like everyone and taking a bus to go see the famous Brand castle (Dracula's castle) and the citadel if Risnov, about a 70 km round trip in the open sun, I would hit the road with a bike. At least, if the sites are not that interesting, I get some physical exercise, and take all the time I want to visit the surroundings.

Yes, I am often a bit like a salmon, going against the current. I find it more entertaining that way.

The first 10km were downhill and through the thick Transylvanian forest. Just breathtaking of a bike ride. It took me a while to get to the rental shop, but it was well worth it.

But then, when came the time to actually pedal to a move forward, it was quite a challenge. For years now all I have been riding are road bikes. Very light and fluid riding. Mountain bikes on the contrary are particularly heavy and slow. So it took me a while to get my legs I the groove for such effort, especially on road pavement where I felt, for the way to go, as if I were not really moving at all.

I took a nice break on the way, at a little bar/café on the side of the road, where in had my usual lemon beer with yet another local dish. It was funny, though I was the only customer of the place, at some point the waitress came to me asking tom help her out translate/communicate with what she called a Moroccan (though he was actually Kuwaiti)  to help him set up his Romanian SIM card into his phone. I guess him and her did not manage to understand each others English.

When I got to the famous Bran castle, probably the most famous castle of all of non western Europe (I am no expert) it was as crowded as I remembered Disney Land when I went as a kid. Uffffff! Thank you but no thank you. Visiting a castle, which I had been told was interesting more so for its furniture and decoration than its actual architecture, with thousands of people on my toes and heels, no thank you.

So I bought some water, took a nap on the grass nearby, and took off.

Surprisingly, the way back was almost to easy. As if my legs were just out of control. Ha! I went twice as fast as on the way to go there.

Next stop, Risnov citadel. Here, a lot less people as it was the end of the afternoon already. So I went in. Ufffff! What a disappointment, a total rip off! It was filled with little souvenir shops, and barely anything to see or learn about the citadel and its infrastructure and life back then. Tourist trap!

Good thing I did it all by bike. At least part of the day was productive! But it kind of stopped me from wanting to venture and see anymore such sites. So I returned the bike that afternoon instead of keeping it for three days like I had planned. Got back to the hostel to drop off a few things, and ran up to the Brasov hill, probably the most intense workout of the day. I cut through all the vertical shortcuts of the hills to make it to the too on time for the sunset. While everyone I would pass was coming down, I was the only one going up. To the point that it got me concerned more and more about the post sunset and the risks of bumping into a bear. Oh well...life is about taking risks i suppose. The walk up takes usually at least an hour. I think I made it in about 40 minutes.

The sunset view from the top was spectacular, even more so since I was the only person up there. I almost wanted to try and sit on one of the big letters like we sometimes see in the Hollywood movies, but I was to tired to climb further up. So i just enjoyed the view while being grateful for so many things in life, including having the chance of seeing such a sight in such a place at such a moment

By the time I got back down it was already passed 10pm.

A quick bite to eat, I packed my bag for the next day's adventure, and off to bed.

August 6th

A bit sad to leave Brasov and the great hostel I was staying at. I really liked the atmosphere, and the staff was really cool.

Anyhow, I have been wanting to be in nature ever since I got here, so shut up ad go. Bucegi park was my next destination. Mont Omu, 2507 meters high. Pretty low,  but the journey to get there is supposed to be quite a challenge.

Hitching a ride takes me a long time today. I perhaps stood at the wrong spot. On a pseudo highway exiting the city and in front of my favorite store, Decathlon. Next trip I will try to actually use a carton board to write down my destination. That will maybe get me rides quicker.

Lucky me I got a ride from a guy who was going to the exact same destination I was. So direct ride.

The traffic was incredibly dense. We had no clue what happened but it took us a good two hours to do 30km! Would have taken me 6 by foot.

We finally made it to Gura Diham, a large area along the river bank, and there hundreds and hundreds of Romanian families, camping wherever they could find a little spot on the ground. A bit of a surreal scene. The area had nothing charming at all. Barely the entrance of the Bucegi Natural Park. As if they just wanted to escape their city apartment or home to go just about anywhere else. Everyone was laying there, in their swim suit or underwear, drinking beers, cooking BBQs. Sort of like what Western Europeans did, the period of time they discovered the pleasures of going on vacation.

In a way, going through this area felt like traveling through the past.

As I am asking the son of the guy who picked me up for the entrance to the path I am looking for, he pulls out his smartphone and shows me using his Pokemon Go application. I'm stunned. Pokemon Go is everywhere already, and un-geek me, I only first heard about it about a week before leaving

I wanted nature, well there I go. Spectacular woods, on and on and on.

But ain't no walk in the park, nor in the woods. The first two hours are as steep as can be. And all of a sudden my 13kg backpack feels like 50kg!

It takes me forever to get to the first landmark, Cabana Diham. At last done for the uphill, or so I thought.

Now off to a downhill just as sharp as the uphill I just went through. Am a bit concerned because I know this means another steep uphill awaits before i reach the campsite. But I laugh, i laugh very loud for quite a while. I wanted nature, I wanted physical activity. I couldn't get it in Apuseni park due to the non stop heavy rain. Well, I'm served plenty now.

The hike is beautiful. I even catch a glimpse of a giant owl cleaning itself up high on a branch, wishing it hadn't seen me so soon and taken off.

I finally make it to Cabana Maleistei. At last! I though it was never going to end. And silly me I barely had any water left, and no snack what so ever in my bag.

The site is breathtaking of nature and beauty. I would never have imagined such a sight.

Yes there are probably a couple hundreds of trekkers. Half in tents and half sleeping in the large cabana. But the site is perfectly located. Several beautiful horses run free between the tents. Adult horses, babies, males, females, brown, white, etc... Pure beauty!

I go straight to get something to eat. Am starving. I order everything the kitchen has to offer. Nothing delicious, but it is at least warm and filling.

Then, not being sure whether I want a bed in the cabana or camp in the valley, I go inquire about availabilities. "We are full." Voila! The choice is made for me. Camping it is. And am actually pretty happy with the choice to be honest.

I find a nice spot to set up my tent. Quicker this time than the last. Sadly though, since I had not unpacked it since Apuseni, the whole tent was still wet, both outside AND inside. Oh well...

A Romanian family decides to set camp next to me. I offer to help set up their tent which had never been open yet. We all have fun figuring out how it worked and the best position to minimize the bumps on the floor. Very nice people, and thank God they speak a bit of English. The 11 year old son even speaks French as he is schooled in Switzerland where his mom lives.

The sun takes forever to set. The horses keep playing around between the tents. The family invites me to their dinner blanket. I happily join. And we chit chat, snack, and enjoy the heaven around us. Apparently there are so many people tonight because there is supposed to be a Romanian folk music concert. I guess in addition to being the only foreigner in the camp I am also the only one not knowing about the concert. A very nice surprise though.

The night finally makes it after a beautiful sunset.

The cabana staffs starts a gigantic bon fire near a sort of mini concrete stage, though it seems the concert will be canceled since there is no band, but the musical entertainment will still happen thanks to a local dj.

And indeed the folk music starts. Everyone is gathered around the fire. What a vibrating energy. It is so cold outside, yet the atmosphere remains so warm with everyone sharing and singing together. It is almost a moving experience to see such positiveness and shared joy among everyone. Not long and cold faces anymore. Away from the city and villages, and away from the societal pressure and gray atmosphere.

I catch myself mumbling along a few times. But I am exhausted. It has been a long day. I reach back to my tent and fall asleep with a gigantic smile in my soul. Happiness is not a destination but a conscious collection of moments. This evening is definitely one of them.

August 7th

It's about 7 in the Transylvanian morning. Not a noise but the yawning morning dew shining as the sun rises.

The sight of the valet is spectacular. I wish I could capture the moment in a way that would the beauty of it. I could film it, but at this specific moment, all I can think of is to pee.

The two boiled eggs I had hidden behind a rock last night (just in case a bear decides to swing by my tent once again) have disappeared. Bummer! I was so looking forward to eating them at last.

So I run back to my tent, wet feet from the dew, and back into my sleeping back for some extra sleep.

An hour or so later, it seems everyone is slowly waking up. Dogs barking, some people packing, morning fire cracking. The sun is up and so is the valley.

I swallow down a delicious omelette while chatting with my neighbor sitting on a rock in the sun.

The top of the mountain is not looking optimistic. Clouds alternate between gray and black. Will it rain? Will t storm? How cold is it up there? Should I go or spend another day and night here again?

Back to my tent for a nap in the sun. Everyone is at breakfast. I am in absolute peace and quiet.

By now it is almost noon. I need to make a decision. I like challenges, don't I?! In 20 minutes am all packed and ready to go.

Quick hand shake and salute to my kind and generous neighbors. In a way I wish we had gone up together.

But I head out alone. The valley is sunny and green while the mountain top is now blackened by a very thick and wide cloud.

The 3,5hr hike is quite a challenge. Got freezing cold to often. Got stuck in the clouds most of the time. I even fell asleep during a couple of breaks. But i made it. Empty and starving stomach. Cabana Omu at last, in the freezing rain.

Spectacular panoramic view overlooking 3 valleys!

I order everything they have on the menu (not like they had much anyway). Pure moment of happiness...this time the food is relatively good. Traditional ciorba soup, then mashed potatoes and sausages.

I find a perfect spot to set up my tent. Right on the edge of the mountain, and overlooking the valley. Once the fog clears off it promises to be a hell of a mother nature show. We are only 4 tents pitched this time.

I quickly make friends with my new neighbors. (They have a small telescope. Should be fun if the sky is clear tonight. Let's see if I can spot out Orion's belt.) They are four of them. 25 year old Cornel is taking his two young sisters (11 and 14 years old and one friend of the 14 yr old) on a little mountain adventure for a couple of days. The girls are so thrilled and enjoying their trip, it is so funny to watch. I find Cornel quite admirable to have the courage to take on such a trip with such high responsibility.

In the meantime I meet a retired French couple who is visiting Transylvania and seems to have some issues reading a topographic map. I jump in their conversation and add my two grains of salt given the past two days of trekking I had just done and give them a few suggestions about the paths I had taken.

It stops raining and i reach back to my tent. Cornel and I start chatting. I think he is happy to practice his English and find someone older than 14 to have more intellectual conversations. He got me a glass of hot wine. And we ended up chatting until very late, once the rain started again. Cornel, though only 25 years old, is quite a philosopher with such a high level of consciousness, it is impressive.

It is freezing cold and the wind started to blow particularly strong. It promises to be an agitated night. But at least no bears to worry about...hopefully.

August 8th

I didn't sleep much at all. Not only were the tent on an inclined ground, meaning my body sliding down the tent continuously, but the wind was so strong and my tent was so close to the edge of the cliff that I couldn't help but to worry. I kept on remembering that one time we were camping in the Palm Spring's desert back when I was 16, and one of the campers ended being blown away a few meters away, and while in his tent. And since I was alone in my tent without too much additional wait, atop the mountain, hence catching all the possible wind blowing by, I was a bit worried.

It rained the whole night, a constant freezing rain. I was looking forward to day break all night.

Cornel wasn't all that sure whether they would trek back down today or not given the very heavy fog and rain. So we walked to the meteorology station next to the cabana to inquire about the forecast. Thank God we were told that lower the fog was gone and the temperature rose up. So after a sausage and mashed potatoes breakfast, we finally started packing up. Last night Cornel sisters had asked him if I could join them for the trek down, as they were happy to see that their brother enjoyed practicing his English for once.

We hit the trail by mid day. At last. Departing from the clouds, heading back down to earth. Or at least it was the impression the fog gave.

Me, I was just looking forward to reach warmer temperatures and above all, get back to Brasov to take a long hot shower and eat eat eat!

The walk down was not as impressive at all as the trek up. Because of the kids we took a much easier and smoother path. But it seemed we were the only ones walking in that direction. Downhill. And so being alone in these large lush green valleys was fantastic. Well, alone, plus several hundred sheeps from time to time when we crossed path with a flock.

Much lower down, perhaps a good 3 hours into the trail, we went through the famous Romanian Sphinx formation. Nothing out of this world, but it seemed Romanians are quite found of it. An occasion for us to buy some yummy sweet foods for the rest of our walk. We had about another 2 hours to go.

The final part of the walk went through a strange looking low forest like area, known for usually being populated by bears quite often. So we were on our guards as we passed a few bears nests. The area was spectacular, especially when. We bumped into this gigantic flock of cows and sheeps, guarded by the youngest and smallest shepard's dog I had ever seen.

Finally we reached the car, as it started drizzling again. Good timing. But my concern now is that it is already pretty late, and the car GPS indicates 2.5 hours to Brasov! Meaning arriving there by 9:30pm at best! Very late given that I absolutely wanted to do a laundry (since everything I had brought was filthy and stinky after those few days in the mountains) and take my time to have a nice dinner.

But why stress? Cornel was driving and there was nothing I could do...especially given that he is the absolute slowest driver I had ever seen. I kept on internally cheering for him to reach above the 30km/hr, which rarely happened for the first 1.5hr of drive. The more we drove, the more time the GPS announced. Ufffff!!! A very good self control exercise to transition from nature back to the city.

We reached Brasov late, but we had enough time to check in at the hostel I had stayed at before (I liked it so much it felt like I was coming back home). Got a load of laundry running, and we went out to stuff ourselves. Apparently we were all starving.

Not only were we starving, but also exhausted. So we pretty much fell asleep on the table.

Long day ended with a good meal and a hot shower.

Tomorrow I am leaving Romania and heading to Budapest for a few days before Morocco. Time flies so fast. I am dreading going back to work already.

August 9th

Today was pretty much a day of relaxation (by that I mean no sightseeing, no hiking, no hitchhiking) writing, nothingness, and cheesecake cooking.

It drizzled all day in Brasov. My train to Budapest was at 8pm, so I had time to kill, rest and take it easy for once. And believe it or not, I actually managed to do so. He he!

I spent most of the day napping, reading and writing at the hostel.

I socialized a bit with the staff and ended up going to the basement kitchen with them to take part to the making of a cheesecake with them.

Big bummer was that I had to get going to the train station before getting the chance to taste the cake. So sad...cheesecake probably being my favorite cake...

At the station I had one last Romanian lemon flavored beer while waiting and observing the life of a train station for a bit. Interesting, but nothing at all compared to Mumbai's train station, or even Bamako's bus station.

And off I went...saying a sad bye bye Romania in my mind as the train was leaving the station.

Tuesday 9 August 2016

Romania, first two days...

The first two days of this trip have been quite heavy thus far, mostly due to the fact that I caught a big cold and intestinal fever between the cold A/C in plane and trains and the high heat outside. (Yes, Budapest was as hot and humid as Casablanca!!!)

Landing in Budapest, and hitting the train station I had no clue why I was so out of it. I literally had no energy and felt like sleeping all the time. To the point that on the train to Oradea, the border town with Romania, I fell asleep and missed my stop for the connecting train. The impact Vipassana has had on me never stops to amaze me. Why would I stress? What could I do anyway? So I just laughed, really, the woman sitting in front of me saw I had missed my stop, and seeing me laughing despite it all, she must have thought I was crazy. Meanwhile, I kept on laughing. The further away the train went, the deeper into the country side, the more I laughed. And in my head I was wondering how the hell would I manage to not only hitch a ride back to the station I needed to get to, but on time for the only one train left for the day, when all I saw along the train tracks were cows and farms. Not a glimpse of car flow. And so I laughed.

The train finally stopped. I rushed out in the blazing sun. The train leaves. All I could hear was the noise of flies and cow bells around.

The next train back to the station I needed to get to was in 10 minutes. Lucky me! See? Why would I have stressed out? No point at all. It actually allowed me to see a bit more rural landscape and a rural train station.

Now the wait for the next train to Oradea in the connecting toilet less train station was quite long and uncomfortable, even after a chocolate Cornetto. Though I must admit, the lady at the ticket counter and I had a total blast. She only spoke Romanian. And I needed information on the different options to get to either Oradea or somewhere near the Apuseni park. And so for some time we plaid sign language. I swear we kept on laughing and laughing because of how frustrated we both were, trying to find little clues to make each other understand further what we had in mind. Probably the highlight of my day.

The train ride itself was OK, I just had to make to not fall asleep yet again and miss my stop. Hungarian trains seems to be extremely punctual. When it says the train will arrive by 2pm, it means 1:59pm or 2pm, but not 2:01pm. Incredible! Our "friends" at SNCF and ONCF could learn quite much from here!

I arrived in Oradea at night, and after changing the only Euros i had on me and asking for direction, i quickly got a ride to the center of town. And what a center!!! Nothing to do at all with the typical border town. And so I am dropped off here, in the main square, at dinner time, tired as hell, starving like crazy. But mission #1 before night fall is to find a place to sleep. So I head to the only one budget place (still being twice the price of my budget) marked on my guide book (Guide du Routard, which I absolutely don't recommend at all!!! The Lonely Planet does a much better job!)

It is super hot and humid. I walk a good half hour to find the place...which does not exist anymore! And so I start asking random people in the street for a cheap place to sleep. Few names come up. All far, on the outskirts of the city. So I walk, and I walk...I hit the first place, full. I found a grocery store just about to close. I quickly ran inside, bought two beautiful grapefruits and four bananas and ran out. The second place, full. It seems every wedding in Oradea had been planned for that night. Third place (by now I have already walked 2 hours and it is 10pm!), full, but the young lady at the front desk offers to help. "Sit down on the couch and rest, you look tired. I will find you a place to sleep, no worries." Absolute kindness coming out of nowhere. In a strange way, I am so happy to have struggled through the night and the city for the pas two hours, just to get this chance to witness the potential unexpected generosity and selfless kindness of human beings. Her words brought such relief and sun into my exhausted self. All I wanted by now was to take off my shoes and lay down.

She took a good half hour and a dozen of phone calls, all with a smile. But she finally found a place. Pensiuna Magic. The name was so relevant to the situation. I had no energy to walk the extra 7km, it was 10:30pm, so I hopped into a cab.

The pensiuna had absolutely nothing magic. But it had a room with a bed and a bathroom.

Finally a hot shower!

While morocco was celebrating the Day of the Throne, I actually spent the night on the throne. Ha! No fun whatsoever. My intestines were upside down. It brought back very unpleasant memories from Nepal and West Africa not too long ago. I only hoped it was a temporary infection. No bug here to stay. Not again. I was not ready to lose weight yet again.

The upside of the situation, and yes there was an upside, was that if my trip started like this, it could only get better going forward. So I remained optimistic. Hoping for the fever to first go away, and then the intestine to get better and clean.

Next day, am up, a tiny bit more energy, barely enough to pack, put my bag on my back, and hit the road.

It is a one hour walk to the bus station. But a beautiful walk through the city. I wish I had had the energy to pull out my camera and take some shots of the incredibly old and rustic tramway system.

At the bus station, the next bus to Pietroasa (where my ride last night suggested i should go to start my Apuseni Park trip) is in 5 hours!!! No way am waiting that long. I am feeling way to weak and sick to wait. I just want to make it there, lay down and sleep.

The lady at the ticket counter doesn't speak a word of English but understands my disappointment when she indicates to me the time of the bus I am inquiring about. So after several attempts she finally manages to make me understand that perhaps I can try and go hitch a ride by the gas station. Hmmm...it's either that or 5 hours of wait. I guess I had 5 hours to get a ride or else, worse case, I jump on the bus.

Last time I hitchhiked was with Angelina, on the way back from the Camino de Santiago. That day she made me feel like I was clueless about how to proceed, or so I felt. Now I was on my own, without even a piece of cardboard to write my destination on. Oh well...life is great, it is all about the attitude.

So a big smile and my thumb up, i stand by the exit of the gas station.

Few minutes later, and a good 50 meters before me on the same side of the road, this stunningly gorgeous young woman (Katherine, i swear she looked like she was your twin) does the same thing, smile and thumb up. Bummer! As long as she would be standing there, I had no chance of getting a ride. And so I laugh again. A few minutes later, the same side of the road counts another three guys with their thumbs up. Oh boy! I guess hitchhiking is common practice around here. Yay! Acuna matata!

Slowly all the guys get rides. Only the girl and I remain. I don't really understand. Then she gets picked up and drives by me. The cars breaks and stops a few meters after me. Hmmm...I run up to the car just in case. I clumsily blurt out my destination. "Da! Da!" her and the driver say. Lucky me!

The driver's name is Marius. He actually happens to be a taxi driver in Oradea, heading exactly where I am going.

The girl, she gets off an hour or so later, but before everyone starts getting talkative. So no clue what her name was. Hilarious thing is, when she gets off the car and we keep driving, Marius turns around and tells me "molto bella!". Hahahahaha! In our mixes of Latin languages and men who can appreciate beauty when we see it, we totally understood each other, and that's when the chatting started. And that's when I started to understand that Romanian was a mix of several Latin languages, enough to get me quite confused about which of the ones I knew, I should be using to communicate.

The drive lasted a good two hours before we got to the Apuseni region and to the village where he had his cottage where he was to meet up with his family and friends. The town of Boga. He convinced me that I should stay in Boga and not Pietroasa. And he was right. Boga was a good 15 km closer to the Padis Plateau, which we drove up and visited, as he was looking for his family. Paris and further on Glavoi, are two spectacular locations I would have died to camp at. Flocks of gorgeous horses running everywhere. Lots of tents set at the edge of the woods, overlooking the valley. But no can't do. I need a place with toilets (yes, very glamorous!)

He kept on looking for his family forever. We even stopped at Glavoi for a drink and bite to eat. It looked so delicious. Though he insisted, i stuck to my gut if i may say so in such circumstance, and refused to eat anything.

He had a Canadian bionic mountain bike in his car. Quite a strange invention yet so much fun to ride. It was his son's. I suggest he rides down the mountain on his bike and I follow with his car. He is super happy about the idea. Like a kid, a 43 yr old kid. And so after I show him my driver's license and do a test drive with him, we pull over the car and he gets the bike ready. The ride down is funny. He keeps on hitting the break all throughout, while I follow behind, wishing for the torture to be over. I just want to lay down.

But no, he insists we go to his "cottage" where I meet his wife and kids and other friends and so I can speak English with his kids. They don't seem all too happy he has brought over a stranger. I really need to use the toilet. I do so. Then I guess his wife convinced him to drop me off. And so he drops me off at the pensiuna nearby, by 4pm. I am stuck in bed until the next morning 10am!

Before falling asleep, and while rolling in bed with stomach pain, I found an old little survival guide book from the 1960's in my bag. It suggests that fasting is a great remedy to cure the intestines. I wish I had read that book when in Nepal and then Mali. (I had that book on me all along but never opened it). So I made the conscious decision to fast. Nothing in but water for at least a whole 48 hours. The principle behind it makes so much sense after all. The body can't focus the energy on fighting the bacteria if it also has to process continuous digestion. So fasting meant letting 100% of the body fight the infection.

Next morning, the fever is finally gone. I am full of energy, yet knowing that my body is still battling my intestinal infection. But at least energy is back. So rather than than hitching a ride to the town 13 km later where am supposed to go, I decide to walk, in the rain, and trough the forest road along the river. A nice two hour walk...in total peace and harmony with mother nature. Getting resourced as i walked.

Later on, I needed to take a different direction, hitched a ride with two crazy guys for a few kilometers.

Further, one woman stops, late 40's I would say, smoking a cigarette inside her old Audi A4. First question she asks me is if am traveling alone. Same question everyone has been asking me so far. And I answer Yes. Which always surprises the people who pick me up. Strange I guess. If only they would travel more they would realize how many people do travel alone. Anyhow, what made me laugh (in my mind) the most was her following question: and you are not afraid? Ha! I wanted to ask her the exact same question in return. What woman in her sane mind has the guts to pick up a male hitch hiker???!!!

One truck driver, Stefan, delivering saucisson and other cold cuts. (He used to be a butcher before) Drives an average of 700km per day, 3 days a week. He was on his way home when he picked me up and had about another 300km of mountain road. He drives like crazy. He was so happy to speak English and talk about life that he passed my destination. A good 10km further. He only realized it when we got to the next town. Oups! Yet he was so kind that he insisted on turning around and driving the extra 20km to take me where I wanted to go. Such a nice guy!

Stefan drops me of in this tiny town where nobody speaks English and everyone looks at me weird. I dont really have a clue of where to go to start hiking up and through the little mountains villages i had in mind. I stop at the front door of this old woman sweeping her floor to ask her where the path starts. I speak in English mixed with Portuguese, Spanish and Italian. She speaks in Romanian. We have no clue what the other one is saying. So we just laugh. Then she calls up her friend for help. Yes! She speaks Italian. So we manage to sort of communicate and even crack some jokes about life. She gives me the direction I am looking for, but strongly suggest I first go to see a famous cave up in another village. Her good humor and smile convince me. So off I go, lifting up my thumb for yet another ride

A couple of cars go by until a family with two kids stops to pick me up. I always am surprised when families stop and think they want to ask me for direction. I couldn't believe they would do that. It is usually two men, or one man who stop to pick up hitch hikers, not one woman, or a family with kids. Yet today I got it all. Two men, one man, one woman, and a family with two kids. Incredible!

And guess what?! As I am telling them my destination, I hear the woman say something in French to the kids. It turns out it is a French family!!!

Best part, they are going to see the same cave I am. Or so I thought.

In the car they tell me about a great salt mine I didn't know about. Apparently it is way nicer and more authentic than the one I had planned to see in Turda. So I might just change my route if I have the time.

The two kids, Irene (12yrs old) and Maurice (6yrs old) are adorable and so well educated!

We get up to the cave, but it is pouring rain like pissing cow and terrorizing lightening turn the sky into a meteorological war zone. So we have to wait in the wooden cabin till it stops. As I am on the floor, looking up at the map of Romania I finally found, Maurice comes up to strike a conversation about a funky looking rock he had found a day before. And so we invent those crazy stories about how this rock could have come about. We go on and on and on and before we know it, the rain has stopped. 

One little factor I forgot to consider was the fact that going down a cave holding supposedly the largest underground glacier in the world meant one very important thing: there was a glacier in the cave, and....like all the other visitors, I just didn't think straight. A glacier means continuous ice. Continuous ice means a surrounding temperature close to 0 degrees Celsius...and that means it's god damn cold inside the cave. Yet, everyone visiting it was wearing a T-shirt or a light sweater and shivering like mad.

Aside from the impressive entrance to the cave, the cave itself has no interest. But it was a fun experience with the family.

Going back up I am caught in a big dilemma, to continue with the French family or stay here in Gheta to finally test out my new tent.

Despite Maurice sad face when i told them we would split ways, the landscape was so incredibly beautiful, I went for option two.

It was clearly going to rain...a lot, given how dark the sky was turning. But the perspective of waking up in this heavenly meadow was just so enticing.

So I walked in to the camping ground, noticed that a group of Romanians with their cars are almost done setting up their tents and chill out gear. I suppose it wont be a quiet evening after all.

As I am pulling my tent out of its bag, I realize I have never actually set it up and have no clue how to do so. It's just a tent, can't be all that complicated I suppose. Good thing I get it fast, as it is already starting to rain. Hmmm...now one very very very very crucial question raises in my mind: is my tent water proof??? It doesn't say anything on the instruction nor on the bag. Aiiiiiii.........it would be quite unpleasant to wake up drenched in cold water in the middle of the night not having a clue of where to go nor how to protect my stuff from the rain.

So I hide under the tent for a while, observing, observing, and observing, checking with my hands the different layers of fabric the tent is made of, even comparing the rain cover of my backpack with the outer layer of the tent. Not a drop has gone through yet. I guess it will be OK. I can unpack now and get ready for the night.

Am all set. Rain slows down, am starving but remain strong. One more night of fast and then i will check the status of my intestines.

So I go for a nice walk around the area, listening to the drizzling rain and the sounds of the birds heading back to their nests for the night, thinking about the French family and what they are doing at the moment.

Night time, first night in my tent...

Romania, on the road again...

It has been almost a year since my last real trip. My feet and my passport have been itchy ever since I came back from Central African Republic. But i needed to sort of set my grounds a bit in Morocco before hitting the road again.

When the opportunity presented itself for a two week break this summer, i couldnt resist. No matter it being only two little weeks, i had to get out and hit the road again. Get out of my comfort zone and challenge myself a bit.

So my search was easy. Europe, in order to optimize my travel time. Then i picked the cheapest country on the European cost of living index, and found the nearest airport with the cheapest airfare. Romania, via Budapest. I have always been curious about this part of the world, so why not? Two weeks wouldnt be too much of a risk anyway.

And off i went, not to sure what to expect nor what to look for, but sure of one thing: it would be a positive learning experience, necessary to give my Moroccan aventureless routine, a little boost of energy and passion.

Bon voyage to moi! :0)