We continue to follow the Danube.
Today's warm enough but the road is quite shaded by the trees to our right.
The climbs, of course, are ALWAYS in the sun. After twenty miles of only woods and Danube we stop to eat the usual bread and cheese in a so-called "picnic area". In addition to truck drivers also get other cyclists, they are also heavy loaded. She has a trailer containing a child of six and a half months and he rides a tandem bike that is recumbent in the front, with the other older son, I think about four years. Despite of those who say that when you have children you can not do anything. They were going to Macedonia and Greece, and also them they free camp in the woods. For the first time we see cyclists with more stuff then us. We go, there are some tunnels with no light, but not too long. Everybody told us to be careful with traffic and trucks, but a truck every five minutes can not be considered traffic for an Italian.
Then there is a sloope rather challenging, that I readily affront by feet.
Finally we arrive at the border. Although we are are really sorry to leave Serbia. We would have liked to stay longer and see other places. Beautiful nature, great people, good beer!
Instead we are here on the bridge that separates us from the European Union, and we have to wait. There are machines working to remove from the river all the garbage that came after the flood (there is a dam and then all the garbage is blocked there).
After the border we are in Romania. Our encounter with this new country can be summarized as: traffic, traffic and traffic! We’re no more used to this! And dogs! Around or dead along the way.
After about ten kilometers we arrive at Drobeta Turnu Severin, a fairly large town, and also beautiful. There are many parks and green areas. But bad atmosphere. Too many people "fashionable", they ignore us, somebody laughs. In short, we want to go away fast (and back in Serbia). We leave the city, after a quite reptilian industrial complex, there are hills and we sleep there, in the sheep pasture. Industrial chimneys in the background. Bucolic landscape and post-modernism.
Until now we can say that the only good thing in Romania is the absence of mosquitoes.
May 29, 2014
At 8 am there are already 36°. Super!
The departure is an not affordable ascent! After 6 km we just want a bus to take us to Targu Jiu.
Needless to say I climb walking.
We stop to eat an ice cream and try again. Fortunately, early starts the descent and then the plains, not for long. We stop to eat at Motru. It's raining, thankfully, went from 40 to 20 degrees and even other ascents are faced much better. The last 20 kilometers are plain.
We arrive in Targu Jiu, birthplace of Brancusi. Just arrived in town we stop at a bar to ask if there is an internet connection. There is not, but instead there is a little girl of about six who sings traditional music. From the outside you could hear the voice but just could not imagine it came from a little girl of six years. Let's see the "endless column", sculpture by Brancusi in a city park. Then we find a small room and we are quite lucky. The guy who works there is also a web designer so he has a fast connection that allows us to upload all videos and photos made so far. Back up done! The guy was very nice, has a cousin who lives in Randazzo (Catania) so we will give him some contacts for when he’ll go to see him, maybe he will do a non-touristy tour of Sicily.
May 30, 2014
Today the weather is not great. And fortunately. When there are the climbs are always better 20° than 40°.
The weather forecast said it was supposed to rain all day, but nothing, not even a drop. Along the way we stopped at a little bar where we meet a few nice people. Practically the first since we are in Romania. We start again, always paying attention to the dogs, which are everywhere here. It is not clear if they are someone or not. The gates are almost always open. However, changes little. The dogs don’t like very much cyclists. There is only one Scoppio! If you stop and go for a while 'after walking a bit' they stop to aim at your ankles and bark against you. But when there are more than two they make a little fear.
We arrive at a nice little place to stay. Also in Rumania there is no lack of woods, we are within a national park. We sleep near what they seem, and certainly are, giant fossilized dinosaur eggs. Even though the sign says that it is sand that is cemented dating back six million years ago. We took a bit of rain but we were still able to cook.
June 1, 2014
This morning I found a four-leaf clover, third of the trip. I don’t look for them, but as I walk, I often see them. I have seen this close to the river where we slept. A very nice river, shallow and clear, but icy. Too bad the surrounding lawn is being used as a dumping ground ...
Skip a few cars and a few cart. All ignore us even if we sleep almost two hundred meters from the "center of town" which is a bar with no sign in front of a school in which lawn are parked five or six horses.
We decided to go for a coffee and see what the situation is. After the bar there is a dirt road on the right that our GPS said to be the true center of the village. Just around the corner two boys and a man who could be sixty or forty years old, tell us not to go there because there are all Tzigan while they are Romanians ... even if it is clear that also they are Roma but don’t want to say us to be. Let's go to the bar for a coffee and, as we imagined, within a couple of minutes a lot of people arrive. No one speaks English. But somehow we understand each other. Romanian and Italian are very similar.
We left our tent mounted and walked out with bikes and, of course, all the bags. A couple of guys are spoken in the ear, they are thinking of a way to trick us something, but a little too loud. In short, a bit too obvious.
They say that Daniel is definitely impotent because at our age we should have at least six children.
We propose the exchange of bike with two horses, but nothing ... we'll have to pedal!
Eventually, as it became clear, we can’t make the documentary without having a local contact. We are alone and surrounded by twenty people then we don’t seem appropriate to pull out the cameras. A man with a badly tattooed number on his arm gives us a beer. After spending a couple of hours at the bar, having rolled cigarettes for all and offered some beer (actually all to the drunk of the village, Florin) we decide to go take down the tent and start over. As we go we are following by two fourteen years old boys, one by scooter. They ask us if we have euro cent coins from 5,2,1, have a box half full, we give them 2 Lei. While dismantle the tent another guy comes, we met him at the bar, is albino, 22 years old, not unable to find a wife (here is already considered singles for all his life) and is called Florin too. He tells us that we should not stay another night there because if we stay another night other people of the village steal us everything. He says that there is the "mafia" even though his concept of mafia is very vague ...
Earlier, however, at the bar are arrived a black Bmw with bulgarian license plate and dark glass. He stops, all approach it and inside there's a guy who distributes money to a few people. There we go, thanks to Florin warned us, even if anyone would understand ...
We stop to eat after Brezoi a Omleta cu branza. And we go to Pitesti.
After about twenty kilometers we finally move away from the “death’s road" along the river. We pass the bridge and this new road is much less traffic passing through little hamlets. There is a little climb that we remembered that not having to do in our travel plans. At some point, when you least expect it, the asphalt ends and begins a dirt climb 20% slope. We wish it was dirt, but it is only stones, and also large. The trusty navigator says us that the road is the right one and we, after years of teasing motorists who do everything the navigator says them, we trust blindly. And we think that they're redoing the asphalt after a while will resume the normal road. But nothing.
We have to go inevitably walk and it is a tremendous hard work. It looks like a nightmare. We do so ten kilometers. Putting hours. Even those short stretches of downhill or flat seeds we have to do on foot, there are huge stones and the bike does not go forward. Moreover, for the circles is not exactly the best descent from a cross ...
We meet people every now and then but no one says "where the hell are you going?"
After hours of hell a little old lady tells us that we're almost to the asphalt, we "only" cross the next mountain! We want to die.
After yet another vertical climb we stopped, exhausted, and assemble the tent along the "road"! The forest is steep and you can not enter. We make a paste and go to sleep, continuing to ask us why we are 650 meters high and hoping that tomorrow this hell will end soon.
At our riveglio hell of stones is always there. At least no rain at night. Otherwise it would be a quagmire. We do a few more kilometers and then dragging the bike looks like a mirage in the desert, but real asphalt. It appears in the country of Ianculesti, do not comment.
The weather is beautiful, we coast along a very pretty river. A little more 'go up and then come to Curtea de Arges where we take a room just before the storm.
Today we only had about forty kilometers but the rise in the mountains of Romania has tried enough and we need to get some rest '. In the room there is a TV where everyone and everything is green! We put to bed to watch the game of tennis Errani, who won as well.
June 3, 2014
We woke up pretty rested. While we load the bags on the bike the dog of the lady of the house, one from a little sharpei 'cracked, run away from the gate and will be invested, or rather, he threw himself under a car, it even stops.
There has been nothing serious thankfully ...
Let's start, the road is fairly flat. A yellow car stops to say to Daniel (who was in front of me) that in a couple of miles through a village Tsigan and that I should leave behind. We ride imagining what it will never be in this village.
Eventually we get there, there are four houses. Everyone speaks Italian and greet us. The problem, as always, are not the rom, but the wild dogs. At some point, do we get 4 or 5 and they are great. A "dangerous" Mrs. Roma draws dogs and all ends well.
Then all the same, villages, countryside and horses.
Small bars or any other business selling beer, even the hardware. A beer costs us 2 You (40 cents). We understand why everyone here even drink beer at ten in the morning.
Shortly after we pause to sleep along the river. The place is not much, there are a lot of dogs barking and we feel we are close to the road but here are all wheat fields. We lack a little 'beautiful groves of Croatia, Serbia and Bosnia.
When you wake up there is a cow in front of the tent. All right.
While dismantle comes the owner of the cow, an old 1 meter high and 40 cm in kerchief on her head and a beautiful toothless smile. He greets us and untie the cow.
We're going to fill the water and rinse off in the fountain near the village. Two guys are asking us where we go and believe that there is an ocean to cross ...
Along the way we stopped to eat under a bus shelter (plastic, ideal for cool summer days and the hours of waiting). We are in the company of a little black dog that we remain a few days of life. We give you a little 'bread, water and pate. I am a little 'cry.
We leave to Buzescu.
Before the bridge over the river that separates us from the country can already be seen in the distance, houses, palaces, Buzescu towering over the odds being surrounded only by countryside.
We arrive, the country is small, the streets are unpaved behind the main one, and the houses modescte lot, almost no one has the bathroom in the house.
The main street, however, in the end only five hundred meters long, is a jumble of houses giants. Sure, a little 'truzze, but beautiful. Truzze not in the architecture which, ultimately, has nothing exceptional, but in the details, such as the dollar sign on the facade of the house.
In short, it is much more Arcore Truzzi. And then here you do with 50,000 Euros a villa.
We decide to stop for a beer and see to know someone. At the end of a country boy going to stop us. It 'a buzeschese of Terni, come back here for a bit' cause the place where the waiter was closed. His name is Mark. We never thought of meeting a ternano in Buzescu. Takes us to the bar to get a beer and buy sunflower seeds that they eat here all the time. It tells us that if we want to take pictures he takes us on a tour in the country. He says that there are no problems but some are afraid that the pictures serve to "copy" the house. Here is a competition for those who have the most beautiful home, even if the copy of the White House at the beginning of the country wins ...
Buzescu The tour starts from the street parallel to the main one. Marco makes us see the house of his uncle, disgraced by gambling debts and then evicted from the way of the rich. He tells us that he has played in Italy with 7-8 thousand slot. Then come out the way of the rich who, in the end, given the amount of entrance visas Roma in Romania, are just a few.
Come on in front of his aunt's house, where the aforementioned aunt and her husband are eating sunflower sitting on the street. From the amount of skins sputacchiate the ground seems to have stopped there for hours. A few doors down is the sister's house, a large villa orange. Mark tells us "you should see inside" but do not get a chance to enter.