Vienna waited for me :)

From hungary (on the 14th) we head off to Vienna (which I still keep calling Venice. I'm so confused.)  We met two people in Romania, one guy we travelled with was from Venice and one girl we met in a music venue was working there and invited us to a charity party.  They both offered us there homes.
  So we were to stay at Stevie's home, I think David assumed he had a big TV and a private room for us form the way he talked it up, but (like most places we stayed) we slept in the living room and had to pack up our things when everyone else was up, and leave as they, too, left.  This was a sharp change from our dorm days of doing as we pleased with our very own key!  Vienna sparkles.  It's rich and fancy and so damn expensive I felt like I'd been photoshopped there.  =|
We ate our lunch/dinner in the supermarket or the cheap asian noodle stores (our eyes were peeled for the cheapest food).
  We went to the opera.  It's embarrassing but Ill tell the story anyway.  So we were exploring the city; getting lost and finding treasures, and fell into conversation with someone selling tickets to the opera.  We found tickets to see a big opera production - la traviatta - for thirty euro.  The way it all happened made this price seem really good, and so we bought the tickets and went. Its a special thing to see the opera, especially in Vienna the home of classical music and orchestras.  moreover, we've been couchsurfing and should utilise the money we save on accomodation on truly experiencing the city.  It might sound obvious to you, but when your as stingy as me you forget.
 When we arrived, it turned out you can get standing tickets for just 3 to 5 euro, and after
intermission you find a better seat anyway.  We decided not to let it get to us and went looking for our seats, and simply exploring the magnificent building.  From the top of the arena, David asked which seats I'd want, and (after the VIP seats) we decided on one of the private little rooms along the walls.  we found our seats and laughed and laughed because we'd wound up IN one of the little privtae rooms along the side !!!! It was very exciting, I got David to take a photo, until a man came and told us we were in his seats, and we were sitting behind him in this room where we couldnt actually view the stage without standing up.  We were ripped off by the black market opera ticket sellers. dont let it happen to you.


  The opera was incredible!!! By Verdi, The story was cheesy, and dramatic, and took me into its world, captivating all of my senses with the enchanting music, song and dance.
  I'm also embarrassed to say that I went to see Verdi in Vienna wearing Jeans (which I still havent washed since buying them in Romania), muddy boots and my inuit jacket.  FIrstly, I forgot that I might want to go home first and change, and then I realized even if I had, I had nothing more appropriate I could change into.

  Anyway so one night we went to a circus party, raising money for Burmese children (very interesting, look it up) which a girl we met in Timisoara had invited us to.  We invited Stevie, our host.  The circus was awesome and the people were really cool and creative. we'd found the underbelly of Vienna.  So that night we said thanks to Stevie and moved in with Flavia, our Romanian friend, who lived with a bunch of Germans (who move to Vienna so that they can get into uni easier).  The shared house was so inspiring.  The friends worked like a real team, a real family.  Firstly, they (we) utilised a little thing called dumpster diving.  If your unfamiliar, its where you take the (good as new) food from supermarket dumpsters illegally.  These guys had the key for every dumpster in the city (easy enough to get a hold of if you need it) and by this they got dish washing detergent, fruit, vegetables, soap, chocolate, sweets, everything you could need - all for free.  The reason why its thrown out can be to make room for new and improved stock, or because the use by date is about to finish, or one product from the batch was dodgy and theyre cautious not to be sued.
  So this guys cooked big healthy meals and always ate together, cooked for everyone rather than themselves.  They were also just fun people.  We borrowed bicycles from them and spent the next day riding around the city - first to a yoga class; pay by donation, then to the 'critical mass'.
  Once a month in Vienna, hundreds or thousands of people gather to ride around the city, stop the cars, and encourage the use of bicycles.  The route changes every time so that the police can't find you and there are often themes.
Tonights theme was lanterns, and the long ribbon of bicyclists sparkled as it weaving spontaneously through the busy streets.  Boom boxes were everywhere, playing different types of music, so we sung and David and I saw all the tourist attractions we'd failed to visit.  The after party was at a paybydonation bar, with loads of delicous food and cake and drinks.  You feel so good there (even before the drink) that I'm sure most people were also paying more than usual, thankful for the positive vibes in the bar.

  It was sad to be leaving the next day.  We had not recieved any responses yet for couches in Chzech republic but Flavia arranged for us to stay with one of her childhood friends in Brno, so we felt our fate awaiting us.

  SO far, out of all the people we've met (we meet locals remember, since we havent stayed in any hostels) its the germans who I can relate to the most.  I say this mainly because the young people travel.  Possibly also because their economy is similar to Australias.  This is a generalization but many of them might travel a lot also because since after the second world war, they lack a patriotism and dont feel so warmly towards their own country as other European countries.

Anyway, I hadnt been to Germany at this stage yet, David and I were headed to Brno ! (On the 17th)

The deep hearted Hungary

So much has happenned,
we've seen so much, felt so much and learnt so much.  The highlights have really been made by the amazing people we've met on the road, and travelling to a new city means saying goodbye to a new found friend.
In Timisoara we were housed by an architect student and her Maldavian mother.  This is still in Romania, by the way.
The mother cooked us home cooked romanian cusine - spicy meat cabbage rolls, spiced palenta, eggs, bread, creamy sauces, all piled on plates on top of plates.  Timisoara is full of young, creative people and the little city has so many nooks and crannys where people can come and express themselves creatively.  We were lucky to meet such awesome people who each took us to a new place.  I spent a few hours drawing with some amazing comic artists at an animation festival.  We walked past one building, and in each window (there were maybe seven) you could see the silhouette of a person, and hear the amazing music of different instruments.  I'm convinced that all people in Timisoara are gifted.

with Diana :)

It was sad to leave Diana, her spirit has so much energy (or perhaps it was the coffee she replaced food and water with?) but she's one I'm sure we'll meet again somewhere somehow.

  From Timisoara we went to Szeged, a city at the bottom of Hungary.  There, we stayed with a young woman studying Russian, with a vast knowledge of literature films and all sorts of intellectual stuff which highly excited David.  While the Romanian people were talkative and bubbling with friendliness, the mountains alight with autumn colours and the streets wild with activity, Hungary holds a contasting sense of calmness.  The landscape is flat, wisping across earth like the wind, which, too, is so calm its as though it is listening to you.  The people reflect the feel of the land, with their reserved character, and calm take on things.  If you ask a Hungarian if they speak English they say 'No, sorry' rather shyly and walk away, because they're eductaion system with english is lacking.  Though if you ask 'where does this bus go?' or 'how do you get to the station?' they will reply carefully and clearly, and are happy to help.
  It was a meditiation simply being there, as though my consciousness was more present.
  I mentioned this to a Hungarian girl I met,
  Hungarian is a great language, and though some people think it evolved from Finnish I think it evolved rather by itself, by cave warriors or something, because the first Hungarians were tribal people and they fought for land and grew strongly (though the country has made some weak political descisions more recently).
  From Szeged we head off to Pecs, where we were welcomed by two architect students (tehy tend to all stick together, its a study of its own and theyre all so proud to study it and to teach others about it).
  The boys were lovley, and shared with me some good Hugarian music. From Pecs we went to Budapest, the city, the capital and oh my goodness its the life.  It is gorgeous.  First (after a buffet of all you can eat traditional hungarian food for like 4 dollars) we met up with Eni, a girl who wanted to help us from couchsurfing.  she said we could stay at her girlfriend's shared house until saturday, when her housemates brother and sister would come and take our beds.  But first, mulled wine.  Wulled Wine is about a dollar a glass, and it's addictive, warming you inside out on the frosty, winter days.
  Eni studies art, and english, and her friends were all learning english too.  But we all felt so comfortable together so instantly that I dont even remember language being a barrier of our expression.  They were intelligent girls.  It was interesting to learn that homosexuaity isn't quite as accepted in Budapest as in melbourne (the girls are lesbians): their parents dont accept it and people during protests there are eggs thrown.  Hungary has a large catholic population, and most people live in villiages (which are usually more conservative) and move out to the big cities for tertiary education.  So conservative or close minded attitudes are apparently common (though couchsurfing helps you avoid meeting such people).

  We spent five days in Budapest, spending romantic evenings with the girls, climbing up to hill points with amazing views of the big city, sipping mulled wine and feeling the heat relax down our spines.  The city is spread across the magical Danube river (which Ive now seen in 4 countries), separating Buda from Pest.  Buda is alive with old fortress castle walls, basilicas and caves, while Pest is packed with more Baroque, Neo-Gothic architecture.  Its awesome.


Incase you didnt know (i didnt) the AustroHunarian empire controlled Romania and Chzechslovakia.  Todya, there are sitill many hungarians in btoh countries who in fact wish to conquer again.  The girls we stayed with were in fact Slovakian, but spoke hungarian in Slovakia, and was fully accepted in neither country being neither only SLovakian or Hungarian.
  In Hungary they drnk Palinka, and in Slovakia they drink Tetratea.  Tetratea is alchohol which tastes like tea !
  After we left the shared house of Aggy (Eni's girlfriend), we moved into a dorm at art univercity's dorm house.
  It was so cool! We made hot wine! and Eni played the guitar! And we danced.  I was a dorm person!!!

  We also got a tour of the art college, which inspired me greatly.  I look forward to painting and drawing always.

We wanted to stay with our friends, and they wished us to stay too (which makes it so much harder).  It's funny, David said to me after we met Aggy that he swears he already knows her, and it turned out that she'd said the said to Eni. Eni, too, said that before I messaged her on couchsurfing that she'd had a vision of "sofia" come to her.  It was all too strange, and the memories heat me up inside like hot wine.

Wandering into a fairy tale!

David and I arrive in Sibiu with red noses and sleepy fish eyes.  We haven't had the space to look after ourselves, being dependant on our host who tells us when we can or can't go home. Big days, long nights and early mornings scuttting out of people's houses.
  Our new host welcomes us warmly with herbal 'bless you' tea which we drink with honey and lemon and we settle down foran early(ish) night.  We're on the cold gray street at 8am, blowing our noses in between sniffling them, and blinking at the little streets.  Sibiu is a little doll's villiage.  It's all too cute and perfect, with windy streets which duck and twist amongst each other, each lined with pokey houses, each with a little chimney and pointy red roof which have little attic windows.  The houses are exactly like the houses I would draw as a little girl; basic shapes in little boxes. Simple.  Dolly. And as I consider it - they don't exist like this in Australia.

  We stroll around oddly; our feeling too realistic for this fairy tale land.  The next day we visited Sighisoara, and amongst these two days we shared many interesting, educational and simply fun experiences, but frankly its all so fantasical to be true.

  Travelling Europe has always been such a dream for me - because it seemed so far away I made it all the more fantastical in my mind.  Travelling here (after not planning to, for one) is trippy.  Surreal.  Of-coarse, life is life and my reality strings the two different worlds together making my dream real.  So amongst my wandering fascination and curiosity, I'm annoyed that my socks are wet inside my boots, and slightly craving some sugarry goodness.

Sighisoara turned me on.

The little villiage climbing up a hill is bordered (once again) by forests.  Scattered along the forest edge are graves.  I imagine that in certain seasons (or perspectives) the forests appear dark and gloomy - the types which no one enters in fairy tales.  The type of forest which keep the villiage a tight community, as parents warn their children not to wander too far from home.
  However, these forests have a perculiar spirit.  Unlike other forests - or bushes - I've come across.  They seem friendly, and well loved, and I can now say that Romania doesn't have the money (or facilities) to start cutting them down in the first place (even if it will make them richer).  On this topic, Romania in fact has a few mountains stuffed with gold and other rich minerals, but as the country hasn't the ability to access them, they've been sold to America in order to recieve 10 percent of it's profits.  True little fact,
  But this helps to explain just one reason why its such an awesome place to travel - it hasn't the money to truly destroy it's beauty via capitalistic methods.

  It was great though - in SIghisoara as I walked down a street, someone came up to me, "Sofia ?" He said.  It turned out to be someone I'd messaged on couch surfing, but with whom I couldn't stay with (you can't travel north easily form Sighisoara).  This awesome guy gave us (Me David and a lovely Austrian we met and will meet again in Austria) a tour of the villiage as well as a tour of his art gallery.  Was rather fortunate.

  Papanash: a Romanian desert.  It's like a dough nut, but crispier on the outside and berrys and cream oh my goodness. youjusthavetotryit

houses made to suit the streets

brothers grimm grave yard

the eyes on the rooves!!

we miss the last train, and get home really late by night bus

romanian gypsys

So David and I head off to Timisoara after Sibiu.  Again, we arrived unsure of accommodation, save for one friend who said she'd help us out.  On our way to her (on the tram - which runs on the first tram line ever made in Europe) we ran into the tram inspectors.
  Now this was the third time they had got on our bus or tram whilst we hadn't any ticket.
The first time, we instantly grew big eyes and open mouths and played the innocent tourist 'we didn't know - ohhh it goes in that way! Thankyou so much for showing us! We were so worried about not having a ticket ... etc etc '.  We had an old ticket which was unvalid, so we pretended it was new and we didn't know how to validate it.  We got away without paying the fee.
  The second time inspectors got onto our bus we had no old ticket.  David starts talking to me in Hebrew. 'Shalom, Todda, Shalom shalom, todda' (but with normal words forming real sentences).  I reply in arabic and for a while the inspectors are in our hands since they cannot understand us and we them.  But the ticket lady had me cornered, and her big evil eyes bore into mine 'Ticket' she kept repeating.  Then 'passport'.  "Passport passport' she was coming closer and closer and her eyes just didn't blink! Meanwhile David was waving his arms in the air yelling furious words in Hebrew I didn't understand and then the locals got involved in Romanian.  All this noise on top of the monotonous 'ticket' 'ticket' from the officer.
  And then a litttttttle bit of english slipped out.
I was scared.  David became louder and more furious, and the inspectors suddenly more alert and insistant and and and then the bus doors opened and we were at the train station and we were late so had to get off the bus to make the train in order to get to Sibiu that night.  Meanwhile, I felt like I was in a netbal game being defended into the corner of the goal circle by this inspector.
  David grabbed my arm in the nick of time and swung me off the bus, bags in hand, and we made a run for it.
  I thought the locals had been saying 'they speak english' (after hearing our previous discussions on the bus) butin fact they'd been defending us, and telling the inspectors to let it pass.

  So this evening in Timisoara, David and I got on the tram (again, with all of our luggage - heading towards our new couch host Diana who awaited us).  We were speaking in english when the inspector pulled out his badge. 'Shalom, Todda Shalom?' David began the act and I followed through - determined not to break the act as I'd done last time.  'Aiwa, Salam, Shukrun'.  The inspector wasn't fooled and the three blokes wheeled us off the tram and onto the street.
 "I heard them speaking english!" The inspector said while David and I rambled and rambled in our opposing languages, as though we were shocked that the inspectors were accusing us of something.  They mentioned the police. We signalled 'bring it on.  Bring the police."  The first officer was staring into my eyes.  "I know you speak english, why were you speaking english on the tram before"
  My eyes displayed understanding.  I understood him.  "Ang...leesi ..?" "Ingleeesh??" I repeated his words dumbly.
Meanwhile David said we were from Israel (they certainly wouldn't have believed we were arabic.  I've learnt that much while travelling).  At first they said they didn't like Israel.  Where in Israel, they tested, and while David said Tel Aviv I really tested them and said Ramallah.  They weren't too smart.  but then they started mentioning the soccer, and singing some Haifa national anthem.
  So they told us to go, and we wave eachother goodbye, our calm expressions denying the dance our hearts were pumping.

Timisoara was awesome ...

Halloween in the city of Dracula

  We catch a train to Brasov that evening.  The trains are always late and at least 2 hours slower than they should be anyway.  It's dark and raining and the city lights sparkle in our sleepy eyes between the rain.

  We knew before we came that cannot stay in a hostel; they are all booked out by the Serbians.  It's the Serbian Christmas and for some reason they al decide to go to Brasov.  Meanwhile, we didn't have a host
yet. The only reply we'd recieved on couch surfing was a decline, and eagerly we'd replied:

'do you have friends who could help us? we don't want to miss Brasov and need a place to stay'.

  The lovely girl told us to come anyway, call her for a coffee, and we'd see what was going
to happen.  David and I wait in the rain for our internet chat friend, discussing possible options for the night; sleeping in the cinema, David becoming my hoe, training to Sinia, begging at a hostel...

  Chris takes us to her favourite bar; 'For Sale'.  She explains that she likes it because its warm and cosy and you can throw peanuts all over the floor.  We duck our heads through the entrance of a rackety wooden door and enter a dark smokey bar.  The roof and walls are hidden with notes and numbers pinned to them.  As I step over an uneven surface, the floor crunches.  Peanut shells make mountains across the floor.
  We order coffees (wanting to stay alert) and start with general conversation.  Chris doesn't seem to understand the situation.   I feel, and I start to believe that she'd told us to come simply so she could go out with friends.  Whatever, we remain relaxed (and meanwhile pull out my laptop and cross our fingers that something will fall from the internet heavens.
  I asked the bar tenders if they knew of anything we could do and they appeared blank and unwilling to help.  But then people begin to ask us questions.  These give birth to conversations, and soon there are many people leaning into our table as we discuss the world and politics and all that bar talk (we got a beer by now).  The bar tenders began to sit with us between working, and then the drinks began to appear before us! They started to play Bob Marley so we couldn't help but to relax
and before we know it the bar is closed with us warm inside it, (continuing the party) and David and I are offered numerous options for where we can sleep.  We stayed at the bar tenders house who is an epic fantasy nerd - and you must know I say that with the uttermost respect.  There were some exciting conversations.

a clouds journey to brasov city centre (hahaha)

drinking wine and cola!

The city of Brasov is even grayer by the day time.  In it's centre is a big mountain, and the citadel (the old city) is strangely hugging it's base.  The city is full of young people (due to the univercity), crowding the streets in noisy gangs.  The city's outer suburbs are made up of communist apartment blocks, but otherwise the houses are all very medieval.  THe streets are lined with a wall of houses, sqeezed side by side, each with compltely different shapes of a red roof, windows chimney, etc.  As the streets bend, so do the houses and their rooves, making them look one-sided.  Like a cardboard theatre set.

  The people suffer from the economy.  Chris couldnt afford to study so she worked in the Cheque Republic for a year.  Gabriel (who hosted us) worked constantly, two jobs.  He said that Romanians still feel the stress of communism, and thus work harder than other people for their country.  He was particularly stressed about work, and believed it was instilled in him by the old regime.  But for most people I met, they had the opposite approach.  Generally, the people aren't patriatic.
They don't support working for the government who seems to never have worked for them - they tell me that its the same old corrupted system stealing from the people.
  Cip was moving to Belgium the next day, where a friend had bought his ticket proposing a business idea together.  Otherwise, he'd dropped out of school and hadn't worked in ages.  Young people aren't motivated
to work because the pay is rubbish.  While food and everything costs the same as it used to (the same as germany for example) salaries are four times less.  The average salary is around 500 euro a month.
  But they work, inspired (I believe) by the strength and resisilience inspired by their parents (and the simple fact that they have to).
  The revolution was supported, as communism restricted the happiness freedom and development of the people, but it confused the generation who were raised in the communist regime.  The regime which taught them that they didn't have to strive for anything - they would automatically get a job and a house whatever they did and this ensured comfort. Stabilty. To suddenly have to have motivation.  To work for your self.  To  work for comfort and stability swept the ground from the feet of many Romanians.
  Most young Romanians I met had been raised by their mother and abanonned by their father.  Their mother raised them on such demeaning salaries, and many returned to University with their children in need of work.  It seems to me that the women survived communism far stronger than the men - who in many circumstances fled to other countries or now live alone.  The mothers don't show a wrinkle of weakness, it's inspiring.

the view!

we looked more like hobbits in my memory...

  Anyway so we woke up early so Gabriel could get out of the house and Cip took us on a tour of Brasov.  First, we wanted to hike up the mountain.  Like little hobbits, waddling through the cold, breathing our warmth out as smoke.  We wandered throughe the clouds.  The mountain wore a crown of clouds.  Hovering, circling the tip of the mountain like a guard.  We marched through it (and stopped to take some photos mid way!) and onto the mountains tip where we could admire the awesome city from above.  My oh my. I have the photos (above) to say the rest



So it's halloween in the city of Dracula, and after a night of carving out pumpkins in a pile of peanut shells at the bar, (we stayed at Cips that night) David and I head over to Bran to see Bran castle - like traditional tourists in Romania.
  Bran castle is all historical and blah blah but I fell in love with Vlad Dracule, or Vlad the impaler, a ruler from the 15th century.  The people were slack and robbers and the country was threatened by war on all borders.  This ruler fought off the Ottoman empire, and taught the people not to steal though all the man got was disrespectful nicknames and a book supposingly sugesting the man was a count vampire.


In the middle of our tour of the castle, it begins to rain.  I watch the rain with confusion.  It's falling so slowly. I wander if there is a lack of wind which I'm used to in Australia? I wander if I'm tripping - did I eat lunch? What did I eat today... have I drunk from any strange drinks?  I imagine that the rain is simply lighter, a really sparkling mist....then David comes running up to me
  "It's snowing!!!"
whhhhhhackkkkkkkkooooooooooo we begin to play in the very pathetic amount of snow falling, asking the workers to photopgraph us (who are totally confused by our excitement in the cold), holding out our hands and smiling like idiots
Romanians don't believe you when you say that you've never seen snow before ! 'so you've never skiied!??' they reply.  Well duh. (duh means yes in Romanian, but if you say it sarchastically they understand you too)

'step this way!'

its snowing!!!

writing my name with the peanuts !

the pumpkin i made!!!!!

Sinia. A villiage lost in Autumn

 We got up early to leave the Bucharest after Dor showed us 'the best times you'll never remember' (I remember everything was fun and fine, no problems, But one could get wasted on 10 australian dollars if they wished)
  We train to Sinia which I knew nothing about, simply trustnig a recomendation by a friend we'd made that night.
  The train arrives in a cloud of mist, and walking down the station we are approached by a stout, eager man wearing a little bowlers cap.  He offers us a room, and we begin to bargain with basic english and basic romanian.  We bargain for 60 lay; equivalent of 15 dollars for the two of us.  Breakfast was meant to be included...
  The little town of Sibiu is made up of odd little houses, each one coloured differently, with odd triangular rooves (those are generally red) and little chimneys poking about, smoking here and there.
  The well tendered gardens and grass glisten with rain drops, and old men and women walk their dogs in mittens and ear muffs.
  The first man hands us over to another little woman who resembles a muppet, with cross lips and a stubborn tounge. She changes the deal to 70 lay without food. We didn't dare to say anything.
  We arrive at our new hosts house, curiously.  The house appears cosy.  We are greeted by a fluffy white dog, jumping at our (new) jeans, and follow a cobbled path lined by a colourful garden of wildly placed pot plants. Within, there sits a big pot brewing a creamy lamb stew.  Beside the stove, I spy little jam cakes and biscuits on trays amongst the flower pots which found their way inside.  Around the table, watching TV, sit our hosts.  They nod in greeting, the young girl smiles awkwardly and takes us to our room.  The family was cold.  As though they had a secret and lived in fear of anyone finding it out.  They didn't want us there at all - it was such a shock after couch surfing, where people want to get to know you and share with you.
  So we dropped off our stuff and began on a mission into the mysterious villiage.  We ate traditional chorba. soup. (Our fist of many). Chorrrrrrrrrba. With cream and bead.  Everythings creamy here.  Such wintery goodness to warm your belly.

 The villiage is walled by an array of mountains. Mountains layered with colourful trees. Like a collage of autumnal colours.  Red orange yellow brown overlapping in a panoramic dance.  We walk up a mountain to the monastary, through a path rooved in autumn trees, teasing us with little leaves, raining down along it's own random path.  The monastry was carved from maple and oak trees by monks.  Incredulous designs suggesting both sweet develish ideas.  Did I mention we are now in Transilvania? It's full of amazing woodwork - gargoyles and transforming creatures shaping all sorts of things; walls, tables, chimneys, etc.
  The villiage houses are very medieval, influenced by the Saxons from around the 13th Century.  The houses poke out bewteen the trees, brightly coloured against the gray sky and wet brown of the soil spotting the fallen leaves.
  We meander through the forest of red yellow orange like pixie people and find a palace at the top !
Designed by Gustav Kilmt! And theres a Gustave Klimt expedition on !!
  We drink hot coffee and eat cheesey apple pies in the rain.

  I might mention that for the first day or two in the cold of Romania, I was wearing half of my luggage of summer clothes dressed like a sleeping bag.  But Romania thankfully is full of second hand stores where I have oh so wonderfully cheaply bought jeans, boots, sweater and jacket.  Plus my beanie (thanks Izzet !) and boom no winters stopping this snug little bug

  Though the villiage was beautiful and seemingly sweet, the strangeness of our home encouraged us to head off the next day.  Before we moved on, hwoever, we wanted one last hike through the autumn forests.  We head off to a local villiage, where the autumn mountains interweaved with spookey mountains, crackelling with shades of gray and black, encircled by a misty cloud of smoke which could only suggest danger.

  We begin to trek up the first mountain we find.  The wind cooed around us, and we scavenged through the trees and swirling leaves for what resembled a path.  But everywhere you would look, the trees and leaves stood similarly, and our trail was lost in raining autumn leaves.  We walked up and around, telling stories, sharing oranges and grapefruits, ignoring the warnings in the wind.

bucharesti

  Our first day of Bucharest was all in a rush.  After two nights on a bus, we were probably tired.  Our hosts in Bucharest
live in the city centre, but it turned out they were travelling to Sibiu - a cute medieval villiage - that night.
  We could eithergo with them and tay in a hostel there or stay in Bucharest.  But we couldn't say for sure, for we were on
a mission.  Whether we stayed in Bucharest or not all depended on whether or not we could find the grave of David's
 great grandfather.  We knew the name of the cemetary and had a description of the grave but that was all.  Our hosts
were very helpful.  When Aniela (Our primary host's girlfriend) came out of their room David and I were starstruck.  She emanated with a divine light. She was so soft.  And she made the most amazing berry tea. She helped us all morning to find several possible cemetarys.  We had a list and head off to the most likely option.
  The metro is awesome.  Painted colourfully with fun and bubbly graffiti.  Very old school :P We were suddenly out of the city in a picturesque scene of forested fields by a river.  We found the cemetary along a path of ancient churches - each very active, with many monks roaming around, and activities happening.
  Every grave had a cross on it.  Huge crosses.  Everywhere.
  There was no grave there which wasn't Romanian orthodox and cetrainly no Jewish graves either.
So we hitched back to town with a monk's helper. An inspiring guy dedictaed to both religion and the science. 95% of
Romania is Romanian Orthodox, we discovered.  And more than that - they're very dedicated and religiously active.  We've been to several (beautiful wooden) churches and in every one you will find many people praying.
  We head toward the Jewish cemetary - our last resort.  It's huge and the graves are impossible to read.  We sat back with the grave diggers and local drunk beer whilst we waited for the main man of the place.  He was buying lottery tickets.
The grave diggers said Romania was 'no good', and from then on I noticed most locals simply want to get out of the country and feel imprisoned in it due to the economy /lack of an income. No pride for their country, as they feel that the govenment has betrayed the people and thus they feel alone. Abandonned.
At last the priest arrived and said he was busy and to come back tomorow.

  We decided to stay another night and regrettfully said goodbye to our heavenly hosts.  Luckily we had a back up host, further out from town, but we still had another two hours until we were welcome there.  So we head off to the old city with our luggage.
  Slumped on a little bench with our big bags, we were hungry yet immobile and everywhere was too expensive. Then a guy comes up, asks us what we're doing.  He's travelled to all the countries we're going and shares great tips.  He gives us a ride to his house, we pick up pizza, we share 200 year old coniac and have a great time.   Our first day of Bucharest was all in a rush.  After two nights on a bus, we were probably tired.  Our hosts in Bucharest
live in the city centre, but it turned out they were travelling to Sibiu - a cute medieval villiage - that night.
  We could eithergo with them and tay in a hostel there or stay in Bucharest.  But we couldn't say for sure, for we were on
a mission.  Whether we stayed in Bucharest or not all depended on whether or not we could find the grave of David's
 great grandfather.  We knew the name of the cemetary and had a description of the grave but that was all.  Our hosts
were very helpful.  When Aniela (Our primary host's girlfriend) came out of their room David and I were starstruck.  She
emanated with a divine light. She was so soft.  And she made the most amazing berry tea. She helped us all morning to
find several possible cemetarys.  We had a list and head off to the most likely option.
  The metro is awesome.  Painted colourfully with fun and bubbly graffiti.  Very old school :P We were suddenly out of the
city in a picturesque scene of forested fields by a river.  We found the cemetary along a path of ancient churches -
each very active, with many monks roaming around, and activities happening.
  Every grave had a cross on it.  Huge crosses.  Everywhere.
  There was no grave there which wasn't Romanian orthodox and cetrainly no Jewish graves either.
So we hitched back to town with a monk's helper. An inspiring guy dedictaed to both religion and the science. 95% of
Romania is Romanian Orthodox, we discovered.  And more than that - they're very dedicated and religiously active.  We've
been to several (beautiful wooden) churches and in every one you will find many people praying.
  We head toward the Jewish cemetary - our last resort.  It's huge and the graves are impossible to read.  We sat back
with the grave diggers and local drunk beer whilst we waited for the main man of the place.  He was buying lottery tickets.
At last he arrived and said he was busy and to come back tomorow.

  We decided to stay another night and regrettfully said goodbye to our heavenly hosts.  Luckily we had a back up host,
further out from town, but we still had another two hours until we were welcome there.  So we head off to the old city
with our luggage.
  Slumped on a little bench with our big bags, we were hungry yet immobile and everywhere was too expensive. Then a guy comes
up, asks us what we're doing.  He's travelled to all the countries we're going and shares great tips.  He gives us a ride
to his house, we pick up pizza, we share 200 year old coniac and have a great time.
  Then we head over to our new couch surfing host!  He never stops moving.  We arrive and we leave - off to his friends
place where a bunch of young guys lye around making funny jokes and watch youtube movies.  Romanians our age speak amazing
english thanks to cartoon network, but the new generation is now watching dubbed television and thatll suck for them.
  It's hard to find a job, its hard to get by at all, for Romanians. I feel spoilt buying a meal over the equivalent of four australian dollars.
  Apart from the old city, Bucharest is made up of communist architechture.  Blocks of squished up apartment buildings which all look identical.
  Then we head over to our new couch surfing host!  He never stops moving.  We arrive and we leave - off to his friends place where a bunch of young guys lye around making funny jokes and watch youtube movies.  Romanians our age speak amazing english thanks to cartoon network, but the new generation is now watching dubbed television and that'll suck for them.
  It was almost shocking, being past from the rich, well educated Romanian to the average, working class boys of the same age.  The first guy was self employed and thus payed mostly by foreign countries and thus got a much better income.
  It's hard to find a job, its hard to get by at all, for Romanians. I feel spoilt buying a meal over the equivalent of four australian dollars.
  Apart from the old city, Bucharest is made up of communist architechture.  Blocks of squished up apartment buildings

every day, so many candles are lit
at a Romanian Orthodox Church

sofia in bucharest wearing new jeans ooh

nice old buildings in the city

David asking someone on a bicycle for directions

 which all look identical.