Our plan was to visit the earliest settled part of Romania and see some of the Neolithic remains in the vicinity of Hunadora and Hateg. Unfortunately we didn’t really know any more than this, the area was not mentioned at all in our guide book and tourist information offices are rather scares in all but the most major towns. We found Hunadora easily enough, but with little idea of what we were actually looking for within the town our aimless wander brought us to a grand Hapsburg empire dating castle. While not quite what we had intended, it was an interesting site (and not a ruin which made a refreshing change from other castles of similar age). Not too many tour groups but plenty of information signs in English gave a happy balance. The castle had its share of legends – bear pits where they would toss enemy captives – a well dug by 3 Turkish slaves promised freedom if completed. 28 years later they hit ground water, but by then the king had died and his word was not honoured, so they were killed anyway, maybe even fed to the bears, very sad story.
A more careful study of the map suggested that there might be ‘ancient sites’ amongst the villages to the east of the town, so we set off again in pursuit. On the map, red roads are usually main roads – either newly surfaced and fantastic, awaiting resurfacing and fairly bumpy having been patched and re-patched, or currently undergoing resurfacing and to be avoided if at all possible. Half the road is usually closed and both sets of traffic lights on green, but then its not like anyone actually adheres to the traffic light system over here anyway, so general chaos prevails. Anyway, red, orange and yellow roads are generally tarmac. White roads however on the whole tend to be gravel, often with more potholes than actual road surface testing Napoleons suspension to the limit. As the only way to reach these villages was along said white roads progress was slow. The temperature gauge on the van having broken we had one eye always on the warning light, Napoleon is not a massive fan of long-term 2nd gear. Finally we reached a village, but having taken several wrong turns (there are also no signposts on these white roads) and as the village was not on the map (an all to common occurrence) we pulled over to assess the situation. Continue along the gravel track, up the very steep hill that stood before us in the hope that we are still heading in the right direction, or turn around and take a very long route back to camp. As we sat and pondered over cheese sandwiches, appreciating the peace and tranquillity of the place, a distant bell grew ever closer, and after a while, over the ridge appeared 3 lumbering cows, closely pursued by their lady owner. As the cows grazed in the ditch she took a seat on a near by log all the time chatting away to her small heard and occasionally waving her stick at them. Being the only person we had seen for some time, we decided she was our best bet for trying to determine our location and route. As I approached I received the biggest smile I have possible ever witnessed, it almost looked painful to achieve. It was accompanied by a native American Indian style hand gesture, and for a long moment I wondered if she was expecting a high five. I showed her our map and attempted to pronounce where we wanted to go. Fortunately she understood immediately and confirmed we had to go up and over the hill, “drum, drum, drum”, drive, drive, drive we were instructed. So with sincere thanks we set off. After 10 minutes Napoleon inevitable over heated, but by that time we were over the worst and so just sat back and enjoyed the amazing views while we waited for him to cool down. The scenery was spectacular as the landscape was bathed in warm evening sun. By the time we made it down and into the villages near the ‘ancient sites’ it was fairly late and with still no signage to indicate where these might be, we finally decided to give up, perhaps some things are just not meant to be found.
A more careful study of the map suggested that there might be ‘ancient sites’ amongst the villages to the east of the town, so we set off again in pursuit. On the map, red roads are usually main roads – either newly surfaced and fantastic, awaiting resurfacing and fairly bumpy having been patched and re-patched, or currently undergoing resurfacing and to be avoided if at all possible. Half the road is usually closed and both sets of traffic lights on green, but then its not like anyone actually adheres to the traffic light system over here anyway, so general chaos prevails. Anyway, red, orange and yellow roads are generally tarmac. White roads however on the whole tend to be gravel, often with more potholes than actual road surface testing Napoleons suspension to the limit. As the only way to reach these villages was along said white roads progress was slow. The temperature gauge on the van having broken we had one eye always on the warning light, Napoleon is not a massive fan of long-term 2nd gear. Finally we reached a village, but having taken several wrong turns (there are also no signposts on these white roads) and as the village was not on the map (an all to common occurrence) we pulled over to assess the situation. Continue along the gravel track, up the very steep hill that stood before us in the hope that we are still heading in the right direction, or turn around and take a very long route back to camp. As we sat and pondered over cheese sandwiches, appreciating the peace and tranquillity of the place, a distant bell grew ever closer, and after a while, over the ridge appeared 3 lumbering cows, closely pursued by their lady owner. As the cows grazed in the ditch she took a seat on a near by log all the time chatting away to her small heard and occasionally waving her stick at them. Being the only person we had seen for some time, we decided she was our best bet for trying to determine our location and route. As I approached I received the biggest smile I have possible ever witnessed, it almost looked painful to achieve. It was accompanied by a native American Indian style hand gesture, and for a long moment I wondered if she was expecting a high five. I showed her our map and attempted to pronounce where we wanted to go. Fortunately she understood immediately and confirmed we had to go up and over the hill, “drum, drum, drum”, drive, drive, drive we were instructed. So with sincere thanks we set off. After 10 minutes Napoleon inevitable over heated, but by that time we were over the worst and so just sat back and enjoyed the amazing views while we waited for him to cool down. The scenery was spectacular as the landscape was bathed in warm evening sun. By the time we made it down and into the villages near the ‘ancient sites’ it was fairly late and with still no signage to indicate where these might be, we finally decided to give up, perhaps some things are just not meant to be found.
No comments:
Post a Comment