Romania, Vampires and Red Roses. Day 29 – 33

The rain kept us in our sleeping bags till 10am. When the sun emerged we gave it an hour to dry our tarp and tent, chatted to a bike one-week-tour group from Israel, before setting off along the valley road.

In the slightly run down town of Bresoi we bought coffee and cake. The apartment blocks were tall, dull and scruffy, in contrast to the brightly coloured swirling skirts and tight red belts of the smartly dressed young mums pushing prams. We let some kids sit on the bike for fun and even though we were a bit anxious about getting swamped and feeling the effects of many light-fingers, everything was in its place when we left.

 The very bumpy road took us passed farmlands, and villages before popping out on a congested main road with bumper-to-bumper trucks. At the fuel stop we somehow got caught up in a group of 17 big-bike bikers. The congestion was caused by road works and unmanned traffic lights, and preparation for the laying down of new tarmac, which the bikers ignored. They charged down the wrong side of the road, overtaking the queues and down the no entry side. We followed.

The rainclouds were continually threatening to drop their load and we found the aptly named ‘Vampire Camping’ near to Dracula’s Castle in Bran. Thor danced and partied all night and in between the raindrops we packed up , having looked at the radar map and thought we could chance it to go further East. We rode past Dracula’s castle, took some wet blurry photos and 20kms later we gave up and settled in a guest room in Brasov. Wet bike gear can fill a room very quickly and we used every available hanger, chair, door and knob to drape the soggy bits on. In civvies, we wandered around the rather charming town looking for a sticker to adorn the aluminium panniers. The buildings are from a bygone era, all twirls and decorated, in varying shades of pastels. We bought a sticker, some delicious sweet cinnamon cookies, visited an art gallery and concluded that we had really enjoyed our ‘tourist’ day.  The room set us back 26 euros and as our kit was all dry in the morning, it was only a one night stay.

Accuweather radar was still showing rain in the east which is where we wanted to go to the Danube Delta. It seemed as if the rain clouds had got trapped in the crescent shape of the Carpathian Range. Our plans cannot really be fixed on a bike riding tour, so we carried on riding north where the clearer weather was. Brasov to Sighisoara to Targu Mures, where we came upon huge open cast mines and trucks bearing  loads and loads of grassy topsoil. The back roads are the best and we passed sheep, castles and an enticing short-cut narrow wooden bridge, which B just had to ride over. Unfortunately the ramp up one side only led to steps down the other side. Turning was impossible on the narrow tow path alongside the canal without unloading first. I left him to it and wandered into a Romanian Gypsy village to look for lunch at the local market that was taking place. A stand playing rather jolly ‘squash-box’ music from a tape recorder in the back of the van, had a fire grill going with some of the traditional mincemeat sausages. They looked a bit too raw for me , so I demonstrated that if he cooked them some more I would be back in 5

minutes. I did get strange looks, a girl on her own, walking around town in bike gear with helmet but no bike. By the time I found B he had turned the bike around and together we re-loaded , rode back over the bridge and found the proper road into town. Our sausages were ready and were perfectly cooked.

 By mid-afternoon it was so hot we needed to strip off our raingear. The road to Faget Camping  near Cluj-Napoca was pot-holed and busy with overtaking over solid white lines. We arrived at Faget Camping and were not the only ones who had stripped. The campsite was bare, neglected and overgrown. Riding casually around the site, we came across the naked drunk caretaker, who scurried inside his cabin,

emerging a few minutes later pulling up his pants. Half-naked, he directed us to Vila Gaby, a ‘pensione’ down the road. Somehow when we arrived she was on the phone taking a call from him and was expecting us. Vila Gaby usually took guests in camping cars or ones who preferred to stay in their ‘pensione’. The lovely lady apologetically offered us a patch of lawn between driveway and summer cabin. We were delighted to camp there for 5 euros, free laundry and use of the kitchen and a chance to service the bike.  In fact it was so good we stayed for 2 nights. The bike got its chain adjusted, the front tyre balanced and the oil checked.  This delightful husband and wife team have a
beautiful garden filled with roses and gnomes and a little bridge for their husky dog to play in.

We took the next day off from touring, catching a taxi into the large super modern city of Cluj-Napoca where we had a soup lunch in a restaurant called ‘Souper’.There was a restricted clever menu of three different soups at a reasonable price, standing or sitting, and  cool music. It was fabulous. A quick trip in the afternoon by bike to an out-of-town centre to Lidl and Decathlon completed a very restful day.

We turfed out more shorts, T-shirts and socks before loading up and setting off East, the next day. Weather clearing made all the difference as we rode through gypsy villages enjoying the

sunshine and warmth. We have reloaded the bike with more weight distribution towards the front and extra stuff binned. It is Sunday and we noticed rather a lot of wedding parties taking place in these villages. This rural setting is glorious, passing brightly painted gypsy wagons parked in lay-bys and fields of meadows mix flowers. Old buses and trucks, having been converted, served as mobile bee-keeping colonies and the sweet fragrance of the Narcissus fields fills the air. That’s the great thing about being on a bike. You are in the air, the smells, the weather, and the sounds as you ride by and they are in you. We love it.

A very pretty town with a public park festooned with red roses everywhere enticed us to stop for a coffee break. Somehow we had landed up at a

wedding celebration in this park. The beautiful bride and her handsome steed asked if they could pose on our bike for their photo album. We obliged. So somewhere in Romania, there is a wedding album with these photos. I wonder what their grandchildren will think? It’s a short ride along stunning scenery and shoddy roads to Comanesti where we find a campsite with a huge lawn, under a huge tree, accompanied by a huge table. Just the spot. In exchange for showing our passports we are offered a huge tumbler of ‘Balinka’ ( witblitz 40-60% alco) out of a JP Cheney bottle. We were lulled to sleep by the sounds of the traditional folk music beating out of the hall next door. Another wedding?

We get to the Danube Delta, catch the ferry

which takes us along the Ukraine border, hop off on the Romanian side and ride to Murghiol to find Camping Dan Pescarul (Fisherman Dan) where we book in and set up camp before going for a lovely walk down to the wetlands. The mosquitoes in the long wet grass got hold of us and nearly stripped us bare so we dashed back to the sanctuary of the campsite and the dry, mowed lawn.

Its early to bed as we have booked a 6am sunrise boat ride with Fisherman Dan through the Delta. How exciting. See you tomorrow.

 Loo signage

Romania, S-bends and Bears. (Day 28, June 6th 2017)

Romania, S-bends and Bears. (Day 28, June 6^th 2017)

A hot and sunny 7am saw us refreshed and revigorated after a swim, supper and a good sleep. Our sociable campervan neighbours brought us boiling water for coffee and in return we entertained them by squashing,  rolling,  shoving and  strapping all our stuff back on the bike. By 9am we were ready to go. Our neighbours just closed their doors, turned the key and the campsite was cleared. We continue up and up into the hills, riding past rows of parked cars and people wandering along the pass in their swimming costumes and draped in towels. Picnic tables were laid out with breakfast breads and coffee, and some card playing activities, tucked in between the parked cars. It was all a bit strange until we noticed the steam coming from the bubbling brook. How lovely, these early morning risers were enjoying natural thermal swimming. That explains the popularity and multitude of campervans.

The back road (7D) to Targu-Jiu got increasingly bumpy, quick reflexes on the part of a large billy goat avoided a collision as he leapt out of our way up onto a rocky outcrop. That’s a reminder to go wide and slow on tight right blind corners. No mirrors here.

We took the 67 out of town and approached the 67C with excitement. Known as the TransAlpina Way, it is listed as a dangerous road, with its companion road the TransFageren(7C). We were advised to go UP the 67C and DOWN the 7C. News on the motorcycle grapevine came to us that the 7C was closed to motorbikes because of snow - in mid June!  And so we started this incredible climb, sharp S-bends that went up and down and back on themselves still ever going UP. It was both sunny and misty and we were followed and overtaken by motorbikes in all directions. A bikers’ dream ride. 

Through the tight hairpin bends, the front end of the Sertao felt as if the stantion clamp bolts were loose, causing some flexing. We checked the bolts, but they were tight. The problem appeared to be a combination of :

• ·       the steepness and tightness of the bends.
• ·       the 21” front wheel
• ·       a normal standard outdated trailbike front end, which BMW stupidly  fitted to the Sertao,            which is a road-touring bike.

Previously, we owned an HP2,  that came with two sets of wheels: 19” for road use and 21” for dirt riding. B realized that he had experienced similar road holding problems on the HP2, with the 21” wheels, on slow corners on tight mountain passes. This triggered an idea for a modification when we return home. We have since swopped the front ends of our BMW X-country and the Sertao. The result is that the Sertao has now got a set of upside-down forks, 19” front wheel, curing the roadholding problem.  Considering that we had an HP2 for 3 years, B found the handling of the Sertao to be a big disappointment on these tight passes. Now the Sertao handles just like the HP2. Strangely enough the X-country with its new 21” front wheel has become more fun off-road.

We met donkeys and cows and a friendly sheep dog joined us for lunch . 

 By mid afternoon we found an abandoned campsite, opposite a rustic restaurant serving Borsch . “No problem, you can camp in our meadow by the river.” For a nominal charge of 5euros we set up camp by the river, tied our tarp onto a handy concrete culvert, tucking the tent and bike underneath. “ Lookout for bears and wolves”, the friendly owner called as we settled down for the night. Our midnight pee-stops must have helped because we didn’t see any. Or perhaps it was the torrential rain and howling winds that kept them away.

 http://www.dangerousroads.org/eastern-europe/romania/862-transalpina-road-romania.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transalpina_(DN67C)

SERTAO with X-country frontend

X-Country with SERTAO front end.

Serbia: A Day of Surprises. (Day 27 - June 5th 2017)

Our very dated 60’s room-en-suite was situated on the 4^th floor in the top left corner of this vast empty hotel, apart from the 300 children whose presence we never heard. It took ages to pack up and get our luggage into the intriguing lift that had 3 metal panels and an open grilled front, jamming doors with feet and taking two trips to reach the bike. Breakfast was a dreary affair on the empty terrace, only this time there were two waiters and a big trolley carrying metal urns. We were offered tea or coffee. B asked for black coffee. Big mistake. The coffee urn was already pre-filled with milky sugary mixture. It took a long time to get a tiny cup of black sludge and surprise, surprise; it came with a separate till slip for about 50 cents. Obviously not part of the set breakfast menu, which consisted of egg and sausage. 

Well, the sausage was another surprise. We couldn’t cut them! Our knives kept sliding off the skin which actually was a soft plastic tube. Once we’d pierced it with our forks and peeled the front bit off we squeezed the sausage out like toothpaste.  Filling up on lots of bread and jam seemed a good option before we headed off to the reception and our bike.  At reception the message of the deal offered by the manager the night before hadn’t been passed on, so we were presented with a bill for 60.50 euros. Now that’s a surprise! B showed the receptionist the piece of paper with the all-inclusive quote (except for 3 beers) and insisted that the manager be contacted. Communication became a bit complicated as neither side spoke each other’s language. Eventually the English speaking manager/waiter from yesterday was traced and the computer system almost crashed with all the tut-tutting and button pushing to change the bill. With full tummies and empty pockets B rode out of the foyer much to the surprise of the parents coming to fetch their kids.

 We’re on our way to the Romanian border, 197kms away. We spot an interesting sign and follow the country road to the “Roman Palace of Galerius”, UNESCO Heritage site. The 3 euro entrance fee was well worth it as we wandered around in the sun admiring the 2000 year old construction and mosaics. The entrance ticket extended to the museum in Zajecar, which was again a different and surprising experience. Zajecar is a bustling modern market town and we enjoyed people watching as we took it in turns to stay with the bike/ go into the museum. There was a mix of some rough down-and-out looking people and also some very elegant ladies in long dresses. The museum itself was actually a building with a long central passage and lots of brown closed doors. 

 

Peering into the one and only open door, I waved my ticket at the lady behind the computer. Pleasantly enough, she came out and proceeded to escort me in and out of all the doors showing me what was in each one and waiting while I photographed and admired and appreciated the artefacts. This took rather a long time so I declined to go upstairs and instead went to relieve B from his motorcycle watchpost. He went through the same process and went upstairs. I had a very long time to bike and people watch, standing next to the bike in the rising heat of the day.  It was very interesting to wander a short way from the bike, rest in the shade and watch the passers’ by and their curiosity. Fortunately no-one got close enough to put my hollering skills to the test. It was a lovely warm afternoon’s ride to the border post and we were thankfully waved on past the rows and rows of cars and buses and huge trucks. The Danube River separates Serbia from Romania, although in Galerius’s day it was all one big Roman Route for the Emperors and wine production.

We are now in Romania and it’s a short beautiful ride through the mountains to Camping Hercules in Mehadia. We arrive at 5pm to be met by a lovely German proprietor and his wife, where we are shown to a patch of lawn next to a sparkling clean 3 metre square swimming pool. Quick as a flash the tent was pitched and cozzie was on and I was in. Within 30 minutes 5 campervans and a couple on bicycles had pulled in and set up camp. Popular place, this. To offset the rather meagre breakfast and lack of lunch we treated ourselves to dinner with wine and the biggest tastiest most delicious Goulash ever. What a surprise.

A Dinner Date in Serbia: day 26

We really do have too much stuff! The morning was spent repacking the bike, accompanied by curious peckings from peacocks and peahens.

The notes in my tiny blackbook say “lose some stuff”. It was obviously so irrelevant that we cannot even remember what we turfed into the bin.  This just goes to show how little we can survive on. With our bike now a bit lighter, more balanced and a bright blue sky overhead, we venture into Scary Serbia. We’ve read the news, watched TV and heard the stories.  We’ve been warned off venturing south towards Kosovo *as there is still trouble there.

Serbia is an official candidate to join the European Union and has its own currency, the Serbian Dinar. The exchange rate means we need to divide any charges by 122 to work out the cost in euros. But they take Euros anyway.

This is a very lazy day, a bit of repacking, followed by chucking stuff away, then a sprint along the highway North towards Nis. We are in Serbia because we didn’t want to pay the 55euros demanded at the Macedonian border as our ‘white’ green paper was unacceptable.

 We are re-routing ourselves by cutting across the east corner of Serbia to get to Romania. Highways are useful for gaining distance, but ever so boring after a while.  After 100kms from Leskovac to Aleksinac we are beckoned by the mountain range to the right. A quick glance at our tiny map shows us there is a border post over  the Danube River at Drobeta-Turnu-Severin which will be perfect access to the Transalpina Way* (http://www.dangerousroads.org/eastern-europe/romania/862-transalpina-road-romania.html. ) Big roads and wide curves in a stunning mountain pass add to that lazy day carefree feeling. Our late start meant we had only left the campsite just before noon, and now mid-afternoon tummies are rumbling for that lunchtime jar of cold left over spaghetti supper.  We spot a simple block building with a pepsi-cola flag  waving in the breeze and thinking it may be a café of sorts, pull in for some coffee to have with our left-overs. There’s a lovely grassy bank overlooking the bluest of lakes, with boats and fisherman way down in the valley. It’s not a restaurant, just a group of men and a young lad sitting around a table socialising with a grill and fire nearby.

We park up, dismount and stroll over, but after a bit of smiling and handwaving and recognising ‘privat, privat’, we conclude it is a private party. Never mind. We unpack our camp chairs on the grassy bank to enjoy the view even more and sit and relax in the sun. The warm sun and beautiful view helped the cold left-over spaghetti and bread rolls go down, accompanied by the delicious BBQ smells from our neighbours’  fire wafting over us.

The sociable chef of the BBQ strolled over to us bearing some of the delicious smelling sausage look-alikes, all crispy and crunchy and a bit like porkcrackling. They are ‘vet derms’ ( pronounced fet derrems in Afrikaans), which are the cleaned and edible large intestine of sheep or goat. We enjoyed the crispy, hot crunchy texture and juicy taste, even though they were rather fatty.  We thanked our new friend and showed our appreciation for his generous offering by guzzling the lot. He was clearly enjoying this interaction with foreigners and strolled over again with a green bottle of clear liquid. “Rakija, Rakija, drink, drink.” We thrust our tumblers forward and he splashed a generous amount in.

With an alcohol percentage of 45%-60% we graciously declined seconds.  It was good!  Mellowed even more by the hot sun, hot throats and very warm glow inside, we reluctantly packed up and set off on the bike to find a campsite. 

 The combination of sun and ‘witblitz’ had done its best to lower our already lazy energy levels and concentration, so when we saw the Grand Hotel in Sokobanja we decided to call it a day.

The duty manager spoke excellent English and was really keen to have us stay in his hotel. Ever mindful that our bike is the most precious thing we have, before we agreed to stay, we asked about off-street parking. “No problem, you can park the bike in the lounge. And you can have a special price tonight, with Dinner, Bed and Breakfast for 34 euros”.  Our budget is 50 Euros per day so we reckoned that this was an OK price. A room on the top floor with fabulous mountain views helped our pre-dinner snooze.

 
 How can a mere 220 kms be so exhausting?

It’s so nice to get out of bike gear, put on make-up and wear pretty clothes. B even got smarted up. We’re going on a dinner date in Serbia. How exciting.

The large foyer was empty, except for our bike, and the large banquet hall was empty, save for a few tables.

We eventually find the dining room on the second floor, which is filled with long, long tables laid with tin plates and tin mugs. We are guided past these to a vast outside terrace, equally sparsely decorated with five tables and some geraniums potplants, with a backdrop of pine trees, mountain peaks and more than 300 children organised into groups, singing and dancing. Had we gate-crashed a children’s camp?  The children duly filed in to their places alongside the tin plates and mugs, the terrace doors were closed and we heard not-a-peep. Alone on the terrace, we waited for something to happen. A waiter, perhaps? And then the friendly manager arrived.
He is the waiter. “We’ll have two beers, and make it three if you come and join us, please”

He did.

We asked him about the children?  city kids on a compulsory country camp for one week.

We asked him about the changes since the war? very difficult,  business , trading , marketing and service industry a new concept.

We asked him about his grown-up children? living in the cities, all  leaving the country to find jobs and go to university.

We asked him about the European Union?  to join would be good.

We asked him about life in Serbia in general? hard and poor.

It was an insightful conversation, adding to our knowledge and our curiosity about Eastern Europe, and in the light of Brexit, the purpose of our trip. Hopefully it costs less to pay for peace than war and with peace comes development and growth.

Our dinner date was enhanced by a single plate of hot spaghetti, topped with tomato sauce and a bread roll.

 *Various excerpts from Wikipaedia

The Kosovo War lasted just over one year in 1998-1999, aided by NATO (air support) and the Albanian army on the ground. The Yugoslav and Serb forces caused the displacement of more than one million Kosovo Albanians. In 2008, the republic of Kosovo declared their independence from Serbia, a move which Serbia rejects. International intermediaries dealt with any communications between Serbia and Kosovo and since 2011, an EU team have encouraged meetings of the presidents of Kosovo and Serbia. Agreements and deals on various areas such as freedom of movement, regional representation and so forth have been reached culminating in the two presidents sitting at the same table at an historic meeting in 2013. More agreements were reached in 2015, ensuring representation for ethnic-Serbs in Kosovo, but not necessarily recognising the independence of Kosovo and the chance to join UN agencies. In 2017, both Serbia and Kosovo mobilized their military forces along the K-S border.