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.
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