With the sweet cakes we purchased
in Brasov through a glass window cubby-hole , we were safe in the knowledge we
had a bit of padkos (road food).


Romania is part of the EU, uses
the Leu as their currency, with an exchange rate of 4.6 leu to 1 euro. We are
averaging at this point about 250kms per day, with fuel costing 8-10 euros. The
camping is about 10 euros and food about 10 euros, we are well within our
budget, which we have set at max 50 euros per day. We can afford the 2 euro ferry across to the Danube
Delta, and to our surprise and mild panic don’t land up in the Ukraine, but
dock on the Romanian side. Ahead of our budget, we agree to splash out on the 50 euro charge for a personalised river ride in the morning. We find Captain Dan and his charming family- run campsite, pitch tent and after a mosquito bitten evening stroll cuddle up and sleep early, because it’s a 5.30 am start. We creep out of our tent so as not to disturb the other campers of which the lovely French couple from Poitiers in their amazing Mercedes4x4 super-duper G-class all singing dancing, bells and whistles, with a custom body, Paris-Dakar dessert touring overlander modifications, lent us their binoculars. We had been advised to dress very warmly and quite right too, it was chilly on the water as we watched the sun rise. We have a magical 3 hours on the Delta in a little boat with Dan, he speaks no English, and we speak no Romanian. It’s just a map, pointing, silence and the wildlife. Let the photos do the talking.
We return by 9am and creep back into
the tent to carry on sleeping. “Was that a dream? Or did we just go on the
Delta?” We ask ourselves when we emerge refreshed at noon. We have a jolly
evening with our new French friends around a fire and sizzling sausages. That
night brings huge rumblings, cracking thunder and blitzing lightening, but the
rain passed over. We plan a route to Constanta along the western edge of the
Black Sea, then inland again so that we
can tick the capital Bucharest off our list. The sandy cliffs are full of holes
and we watch multi-coloured Bee-Eaters dart in and out, impossible to capture
on camera so there are a lot of photos of holes. We feel fulfilled with our wildlife
stopover and use up the last of our Leu on a huge mixed grill for two, 11
euros.
Still in Romania, we get to the
Black Sea, ride through Constanta and it is decidedly Soviet-era like. Grey. The
harbour was littered with rusty horrible bits of iron, AKA Soviet war ships. The
1st campsite is so steep not even a 4 x 4 could make it , the grass
was overgrown and brambling, and the old furniture around the reception was a
bit- off-putting. No thanks. The 2nd campsite was also past its
sell-by-date and greeting by a ferocious horse-sized dog barking and straining
at the chain ready to gobble visitors up was a bit off-putting. No thanks.
Riding South down the edge of the Black Sea we stop for fuel and ask about
camping.


Crossing back into Romania, it’s a
short ride into the Capital Bucharest, where very conveniently there is a city-centre
luxurious campsite and we catch up with Dutch friends we met at Captain Dan.
They had all driven directly to Bucharest in their campervans; we took the
Round Way round. There was a lovely assortment of travellers and included a
chap from Korea, on his way home from London on a Honda XR 250 cc , a UK couple
from Whitby on a BMW 1200,
and a flamboyant Italian with a Colombian gap-year
student in their campervan. What a jolly bunch.Our next destination is Belgrade, Capital of Serbia. We set the GPS and after riding around Bucharest, stopping for lunch at a café, where the bike gets photographed by a passing journalist, we seek out the infamous palace of a thousand rooms. And there the bike stops. No go. I try and push the bike. Because the bike is a big single cylinder bike, it is not easy to push start, in fact almost impossible for a nearly 64yrs, 64kgs girl! Normal push- starting can be successful in 2nd gear, downhill, but as we are
on the level, B chose 3rd , which means the engine can turn over without locking the back wheel, needing more speed. Help arrived in the form of a hefty young chap and it got fired up after a few metres. With engine running we searched for the nearest BMW dealer, fortunately only 4 kms away down the highway, back past the campsite! We keep missing the off ramp due to roadworks and crossroads, etc and 21kms later we park up outside BMW Service centre.

At the Friday afternoon end- of-week-coffee-bar-smoke-filled –counter-team-brief, B had a few strong words to say to the BMW Bucharest Manager before we waved ourselves away with a cheery good-bye. Its 18h30 and we are 4 kms from the previous night’s campsite. A straight road south to another town named after Alexandra the Great, Alexandria, seems more appealing, so even in the face of very dark clouds we chance the 100kms and head off south west. Fortunately being almost mid-summer, 16th June, the days are just about at their longest and the light is good until beyond 22h30. We find a dodgy hotel in town, which we reject as there is only outside bike parking and then find a charming country hotel where the bike is securely locked in the maintenance man/security guard storeroom, up a ramp and under lock and key. B can sleep easy now. We had used up our last remaining leu for lunch on the Black Sea mixed grill, but handy Credit Card saved the day.
We cross out of Bulgaria, over the bridge into Romania, again, and find a hotel in Vidin as the rain comes down.
Tomorrow is my 64th
birthday.
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