Adventures with Grace - Fish with Wings

03 Oct Adventures with Grace

Posted at 14:02h in Blog, Personal by Mallory 0 Comments

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Kim dropped us off at a roundabout just outside of Deva, Romania. We assured her we were fine as we adjusted our bags. She still gave us a bottle of water and then wished us luck. I put on my new boots and we walked through the roundabout towards the autobahn heading east. We moved through the tall grass beside the road barrier looking for a place to stop where someone might see us, and preferably be able to pull over.

Râpa Roşie

We found an emergency pull off with two great concrete barriers, so we took off our bags and climbed on top in the hopes that massive visibility would increase our chances for a ride. We realized that trucks don’t often have room for two plus bags, so that limited our opportunities, but we were eventually picked up. The man brought us to Sebes town, and even drove from the exit to a gas station downtown so we wouldn’t have to walk so far. We thanked him and he gave us some corn from his friend’s farm just in case we could build a fire and have something to cook. We walked through town to a grocery store, where we picked up an odd assortment of foods. Crackers, yogurt, muesli, cookies, halva, and some bananas, tomato, and cucumber on sale. We packed and walked through town to a path where we crossed beneath the autobahn, then continued over dry dirt roads.

While hitchhiking, as we neared our destination, we had seen a red sandy gorge on our left in the distance. We whooped and explained that was where we wanted to go. Rapa Rosie – the ‘Grand Canyon-like area of Romania’. We thought maybe it was the entrance to the park. I laughed and said wouldn’t it be funny if that was the whole thing…?

We came to the entrance where there was a parking and camping area littered with rings of charcoal from old fires and trash. We continued on the only obvious path towards the sandstone, passing through a forested part of the gorge, and hiking up a steep, narrow trail of sand. The trails looked more like animal paths, not like the larger maintained trails of a park. The only sign that it was a park was a small posted sign at the parking area covered in graffiti. There was no one around but some mountain goats. We dropped our packs, exhausted, and hunted for a camping spot. We settled on a slightly sloped grassy area under a small tree with a good view of the cone shaped rocks and ate a dinner mostly composed of accidentally smushed bananas. Classic.

The next morning we packed up our campsite and decided to go back out of the park to a river we had passed. We were out of water and needed to replenish our supplies. We exited the park and stashed our bags in a bush, then walked down a small dirt road that led along the water. We found what looked like a nice spot and bathed in the river, relaxing in the shade and playing a bit of music. We made the decision to camp somewhere along the river tonight instead of in the exposed and steep landscape of the park, and headed back up to do some hiking. We followed another small path to the top of the gorge, which was steep and frighteningly slick with grass. We walked the perimeter and by early evening, when we felt like we had seen enough of the park, we grabbed our things and headed back down to the river.

We called out at the farm, hoping we would see someone we could buy cheese from. No luck, but farther up we saw a young shepherd and he motioned that there was cheese for sale at the next house. Unfortunately, he was wrong. There was just a very angry dog and a confused man. We continued on, but the river passed to the other side of the autobahn and the path diverged. I checked the map and saw a forest area a couple of kilometers ahead so we decided to scope that out for camping. We walked along the country path, which had now turned into a real road, picking apples and taking in our surroundings. As we were walking a truck pulling a half loaded trailer pulled up beside us. It was an older couple with their son and they asked us in Romanian if we were lost. We tried to explain along with hand signals that we were planning to camp, but they were not satisfied with that answer so the man called his daughter who could speak English with us.

We explained to her what we were doing and there was some discussion over the phone as his eyes widened incredulously. He passed the phone back and his daughter, Iulia, said that her father was inviting us to stay at their home for the night. Grace and I exchanged a look, but there was little question – the area we were walking through looked unwelcome, the sun was going down soon, and how could we refuse such a kind offer to stay with a Romanian family? They took us back to Sebes and welcomed us into their home.

Homestay

The family has an incredible home in the city. It looks like a small apartment building, but they actually built it like this to accommodate themselves and their ten children and allow space for a large courtyard. The yard has several fruit trees and a small garden, and in the back they have a chicken coop and three large hogs. We had some dinner and talked with Iulia a while as other children came home from work or school, curious about the foreign visitors. We played some music together and talked until Grace and I couldn’t keep our eyes open any more.

In the morning I came downstairs and the youngest son, Olivado, ran inside and excitedly asked me to come out. I grabbed my coffee and walked with him to the courtyard. There in the middle of the path was one of the hogs with its throat slit. Surprise! It’s hog-butchering day! I watched in peculiar fascination, as I’ve never seen an animal butchered before, as Petro, the father, used a torch to remove the skin. This was a new toy – highly useful, as before this they had had to use wood fires. Then he hung and efficiently disassembled the animal as the children ran the meat and fat into the house to keep the flies away. He removed the head and set it on a stool, then stepped back and cocked his head, regarding it like a sculptor working on his masterpiece. As he began his work anew we were asked to stay for lunch.

*I won’t include a photo because it may freak some people out 😬 Sorry, veggers!*

We had a delicious meal of roast pork neck, literally from farm to table, with polenta. Then we gathered our things, grabbed a few apples from the orchard, and Iulia took us to a petrol station we might get a ride from. The same one we were originally dropped off at in Sebes, actually. We eventually got a ride from a young woman heading directly to Sibiu. She was interesting and had big dreams of travel herself. She is currently working on a project to start workshops that would teach Romanian more confidence in their self sufficiency. She took us right to the door of our couchsurfing hosts and we bid each other good luck and goodbye.

Sibiu

Irina welcomed us at the door of their apartment. We unloaded our packs and she sat with us in the kitchen to get to know one another as her partner Calin remained a flurry of activity in the background, poking his head around the door to throw out occasional questions. When we were all settled in the kitchen we had a beer, but then we started talking about cocktails and began to experiment with their stash, making strange combinations of liqueurs, eggs, and spices. When we were all a bit tipsy we walked through the park by their home to a small festival. These kinds of city festivals seem to be the same everywhere – food vendors, small trinkets for sale, and a grassy hill to sit on. We listened to some Romanian rock music, then walked back to the apartment for the night.

In the morning Grace and I prepared for hiking. Our hosts had mentioned a group on Facebook that organizes hikes every week and I had contacted the person in charge to see if we could come along. We were told to meet at a particular gas station, but no one was there. One other hiker turned up, and after a while of waiting she called the group, shook her head exasperated, and had us pile into her car. Turns out we had the wrong station (not surprising due to the odd directions we had gotten), but luckily she was able to give us a ride. The group parked outside the small town of Sadu and Grace and I awkwardly stood, unsure if any of the 20 people spoke English or were interested in it. Luckily, a few did, and as we hiked we both had conversations with some great people along the trail. We trekked up the continuously steep path for several hours through forest and mountainous pastureland to the summit of Mount Prejba, where we sat for rest and photos. On the way up we snagged blueberries from the side of the trail and back down we found wild cranberries! It ended up being a great day and a really nice hike.

Irina and Calin had done some shopping during the day and we were having burger night! There was no beef at the butcher that day, so they got the Romanian mici I had tried in Hunedoara. We reshaped it into patties, set out a smorgasbord of toppings and homemade sauces, baked some potatoes, and ate until we couldn’t eat any more. Delicious Romanian-style burgers! Fuck yeah.

For our last day in Sibiu we figured we should see the city, so we borrowed some bicycles and went out on the town. First we went to the ASTRA Museum of Traditional Folk Museum. It’s one of the largest open air museums in Europe, and has houses on display from throughout Romania that were brought there or rebuilt. Most days of the week the houses are open and there are demonstrations of life in the time period of the homes, but we happened to come on a Monday when everything was closed. So we wandered around and looked at the outside of the houses, which was still really cool. Then we headed downtown and locked up the bikes to explore by foot. We were followed by the ‘eyes’ of Sibiu, the small windows in the roofs of homes that look like hooded eyes, and grand and colorful buildings. We ate some lavender and aloe ice-cream (yumm🤤), wandered the streets, and headed to the local market. We had an interesting time explaining what we wanted to the cheesemonger, but ended up with some good cheeses, then went to grab a tomato to make a lunch. I picked up one tomato and asked the frowning man ‘costa?’ He raised one bushy eyebrow, broke into a smile and waved me away. Confused, I asked again. He grabbed another tomato, handed it to Grace, and waved us away again. Tomatoes gratis! We sat down by the river to eat and played the ukelele.

In the evening Grace stayed in while I went to meet Vlad, a friend of a friend who lives in Sibiu. We had a couple of beers and talked about life, travel, and Romania. He happens to be a mountain guide and he told me all about the mountains here, making me wish I could stay longer. Grace and I had decided to go to the coast of Bulgaria to see the Black Sea for our last few days. But he did mention the Transfagarasan Highway, and considering this was the second person in two days to recommend it we decided to go that direction in our travels.

Trans-directional Travels

In the morning we packed and said goodbye to Irina and Calin, who were wonderful hosts. We took a city bus to a shopping center on the edge of the city and got groceries for our travels. We walked to a large traffic circle where several other people were also looking for rides. We stood together and waited for a car to stop, hoping we wouldn’t all have to crowd up to a window to bid for a ride. After a while we heard a shout from behind and a young woman was walking up to us. She said in English that she had seen us (obviously foreigners) and asked where we were going. It just so happened that they were also going up the Transfagarasan Highway. Perfect! We piled in and passed around introductions. They were a couple visiting from Kuwait – the girl was from Romania and her partner was from Syria. They had been up the mountain the day before, but hadn’t had cash on them to pay for parking, so they were coming all the way back. When we got to the parking area at the top we were surprised to see several vendors selling smoked meats, cheese, preserves, natural medicines, and tourist trinkets. There was a small lake there and we walked around to stretch our legs, then tried some of the local specialties made by the farmers in those mountains.

The famous Transfagarasan

We had thought about camping near the lake for the night, but the couple we were with were actually heading all the way to Bucharest, and we were invited to join them. We discussed, and decided to continue with them. We got along well and they would be taking us a long way. They even talked about stopping at some castles on the way, though we determined that they would be closed by the time we got there, so that didn’t work out. As we were discussing plans, Nadir got excited and said OR we could go through Sigisoara, camp there, then continue in the morning to Bucharest. Sigisoara happens to be in the complete opposite direction of Bucharest. But Grace and I shrugged, both excited and resigned to go with the flow on this one. We piled back into the car and headed North.

We made it to Sigisoara around sunset, and continued up a hill to the couple’s hotel, which overlooked the town. Karina asked the host if we could pitch our tent out in the surrounding forest. It was no problem, so we pitched camp and headed back into the city to look around. Sigisoara is a beautiful UNESCO town nestled in the hills. It was dark when we got into the city, but still beautiful. We wandered the streets, then stopped for dinner where I had an incredible white hot chocolate (Jealous? You should be!). It’s not bad sleeping in a tent overlooking such a picturesque city! Unfortunately we were woken in the night by rain. I’m lucky that Grace was coherent enough to get us moving, or I might have slept through it and my bag would have been soaked. We moved our packs onto the porch of the hotel and went back to sleep. In the morning we didn’t really want to walk around town because of the rain, so we continued towards Bucharest again. Take two. Along the way we stopped at a monastery in Busteni called Manasteria Caraiman. It is surrounded by mountains and very beautiful.

Mountain Monastery

We finally made it to Bucharest in mid-afternoon and our new friends drove us all the way through the city to try and get us to a good tramping spot. We realized after a while that we were actually in front of a homeless rehabilitation center, which doesn’t look good, so we ended up having to walk a bit to a new spot. We were picked up by Denniz, who was heading back to Constanta. It was late afternoon now and the sky was still cloudy and ominous looking ahead. Denniz kindly offered us an empty apartment he was caring for so we wouldn’t have to risk the rain or hitchhike in the dark. We accepted gratefully. He dropped us off, then picked us up again after we had settled to go play pool at a billiards hall. We descended a steep stairwell into the hall which opened up to a dimly lit room with blue-white lights illuminating each open table. It looked ritzy, but was not very crowded. We played a few games, had some mici and a beer, then walked back to the apartment. In the morning Denniz met us so we could return the keys and he drove us to the road that would take us to our next stop: Vama Veche on the border of Romania and Bulgaria.

Seaside

We ended up having to walk the rest of the way out of town to get a good spot for a ride. Grace picked one up while I was in the bathroom of a gas station and she waved and smiled as I walked out. The man had a round, friendly face with a small gap between his front two teeth. He worked on sailboats and used to climb, so we talked about that for a bit. He took us past his destination and dropped us at what he said was the Main Street in Vama Veche before taking off.

Vama Veche used to be this beach paradise with a bunch of hippies playing music and camping on the sand. Now the tourist trade has taken over in a bad way. We had different reviews from different people, but thought it was worth a look. We were coming at the end of the season, so the town had an abandoned feel despite there still being plenty of people around. There was very little open beach. The whole area was lined with bars, each with different styles of tiki umbrella shades and pop music played at top volume for their handful of guests. The sand was imported and there were rocks in the water. Maybe at other times of the year it has a better vibe, but at the moment it felt kind of seedy and strangely false. Like a movie set with different stages lined up next to one another. We did a little swimming and sunning, then decided to get the hell out.

We picked up a ride across the border into Bulgaria and he dropped us off at a market seemingly in the middle of nowhere that actually had some awesome food. We did some grocery shopping, then picked up a ride to the next town and headed to the beach. This was more like it…a lone bar and restaurant decorated with driftwood and seashells marked the entrance to the sandbar. Campers, tents, and vans were spaced out across the beach and tucked into the forest behind it. Many people looked as if they’d been there for ages, with satellite dishes and shower bags set up. Men and women were walking down the beach naked as a blue jay. We found a campsite in the trees with a couple of laundry lines already set up and made it into home. We spent two glorious days swimming in the Black Sea, tanning our bums, doing yoga, ukelele jams, campfires, and eating fresh mackerel at the bar (my favorite 🤤). We even found a fig tree in town with ripe fruit. My first fresh figs!

Grace walked to town with me the next morning and we said our goodbyes. She was moving on to another volunteer opportunity in Bulgaria while I was heading to Turkey to meet my friend Naomi. It was awkward, because it didn’t feel like a goodbye – more like a ‘see you soon’. She left me the ukelele. I’ve met the most amazing people on this journey, and so the adventure continues.