Drifting on to rocks
Romania, what a country! A place with adventure around every corner and a warm, welcoming person to give you directions to it. It seems incredible to think that four weeks ago I was apprehensive about another month in Romania, and although the budget has taken a fair old hit waiting for the ferry, it might just have been the best month of my life. From travelling through snow-capped mountains, sunburns on beaches to floating in the Danube Delta, Romania has it all.
The route down from Radu and Marieta’s to the Black Sea gave me two options: a North West-South East bee line down the regional highway E87, and missing about 40km of the coast, or creating my own path going directly East using farm tracks and herders paths identified on google earth. Me being me I obviously decided a bit of off-roading would be a ‘right laugh’ and you can imagine how little I was laughing when the path I had committed to was fine, deep sand for the first 3km. However, I was having one of those days where I just knew I would have rub of the green (a rarity, trust me) and after a pretty serious struggle under the midday sun I hit a grassy path and a place where my tyres could start rolling. This maze of tracks, following routes that gave a bearing Eastwards I guessed from where the sun was, provided me with some of the most stunning cycling of the trip yet and views a Microsoft screensaver could only dream of.
The cross-country day: somewhere between Mihail Kogălniceanu and Agighiol
The next day saw me tackle Constanta, a huge port city and somewhere if I had a bit more budget I would have loved to spend a few days in. What Constanta had in vibe and architecture it lacked in road safety and driver awareness, and I was pretty thankful to finally be out of it. A 36km journey that day took me the best part of four hours. Tired, hot and in need of a beer to make up for all of the cold ones I left behind in that great city I pulled into a small coastal town of Costinesti. Here I was flagged down by Victor, a caravan park owner and someone who very kindly gave me free lodgings and beers on the house. Victor is an ex-Romanian wrestler and can only be described as a test match animal when it comes to drinking. Now I’m so slouch with a pint, and I wont let dehydration or exhaustion be an excuse, but ol’ Victor drank me under the table without really breaking sweat that afternoon. As the clock struck 1am, and despite my best efforts, I was crawling towards my tent and taking the Union Jack to half mast before sleeping soundly.
From Costinesti onwards the next 40km was a blur of small, coastal towns that reminded me greatly of Australia. Towns no more than two blocks deep from the sea with one road running through, with everything you need in touching distance. Towns like Neptun, Saturn (there seems to be a theme here) and Managali whizzed by as the effects of last night slowly ebbed away.
Victor: a test match animal. Never before and never again.
I finally arrived in Doi Mai (literal translation is the 2nd May) a surprisingly busy town given its size. Given how hectic this part of Romania is, wild camping has become quite difficult. I swallow my pride and book myself into a quiet campsite, La Hacienda. Here Emil has created a shaded spot, drowning out the noise from the nearby beach and bars and is very much a site where people go at their own speed; which, after my chance encounter with Victor, was a very slow one for me.
For my final night in Romania I headed out to the nearby peninsular to watch the sky change as the sun set behind the hills surrounding the town. Mind clear, listening to the waves crashing against the tide walls and watching jellyfish desperately try and fight the tide pushing them towards the rocks. Watching them gave me a sense of the tide I had been fighting at the start of this trip, always eager to be somewhere by a given time, worried about a ferry or a border crossing several weeks in advanced. However, what this expedition has shown me with its own unstoppable tide is that it is only really the now and here that matters. Before leaving on this voyage I was always told I struggled to be present at times. Maybe that’s the hectic lifestyles we have all become addicted to, the need to be busy; or maybe that just me, someone who has always had wanderlust and who battles to remain still enough to appreciate how good the moment can be.
This trip has given me a lot of things to take back with me, a few scars here and there (spiders and dicing with French drivers), the odd fridge magnet and importantly a lot of, I wouldn’t say life lessons, more self-lessons.
A rare campsite: a beach with no company.
The border with Bulgaria lays about 40km away and I wrote the draft notes for this blog in view of the Bulgarian coast. As I inch my way to the border I feel a genuine apprehension in leaving Romania. I’ve finally cracked useful words, worked out the sense of humour and what pork gizzards are in Romanian. Importantly it has been a place I have called home for nearly five weeks. Still, all good things must come to an end and I will be leaving Romania wanting more and eager to return.
I’ve learnt a lot during my time here, and forgotten probably even more (sorry Victor). I will leave feeling that Romania has set me up for not just the rest of the expedition but hopefully a good while after.
Bulgaria next and a chance to see where the tide of another country and culture takes me, drifting not on to rocks but into places and moments that continue to amaze me.
Noroc (cheers)
