Cabbage, anyone?

Things seen from a car window in between Timisoara and today’s destination 2 hours away (make that 3)

Cabbage and potato stands in front of every house in one town. If they are all selling the same vegetables, who buys them? Or does a produce wholeseller come to each house, hand them 20 Romanian lei and then collect today’s sack of potatoes?

Sheep in a rainy field, with shepherd and sheepdog trudging along nearby.

One church per town with colorful iconographic paintings on the front

Stone houses with peeling plaster on the walls. Surprisingly ornate gates. A well-kept house next to an abandoned one.

Old ladies with head scarves pushing wheelbarrows. People here work very hard.

Guys in work clothes standing at outdoor cafes smoking cigarettes and swapping town gossip.

Today’s destination was the town of Humedoara, specifically Corvin Castle.

Turns out the Hertz rental car-issued GPS unit hadn’t gotten the memo that the newest section of highway had been completed. We took back roads. It took three hours. Long enough for us to actually allow children to watch shows in the back, at least until it made William carsick.

The town of Humeadora? Not a lot going on there. I spotted a tourist restaurant decked-out in Romanian blankets and costumes where we had our lunch. 

Then on to the castle. It really was a good one. We had access to almost the entire thing, including up steep and somewhat death-defying stairways that would be outlawed in the US for fear of lawsuit. 

On the trip back we used my paper road map, purchased at a gas station and well-versed in current road conditions. It took a mere two hours to get back. Along the way, we stopped to photograph my favorite Romanian store signage, a restaurant with an American C-47 plane built into the front, and to support the (very) local economy by buying honey from a guy on the side of the road.

Restaurants are not thick on the ground here, so I did a little old-fashioned googling, and we found one a 20-minute walk away. Ol’ GPS came in handy this time, without which we never would have found the signless place. Despite being reviewed on Trip Advisor, not exactly a top-secret source, we were the only Americans there. Two families were there having birthday parties for their children, and I eavesdropped on one nearby diner as he described the American election to his friends. He spoke Romanian, of course, but I pricked up my ears at the mention of New Hampshire and Iowa in the same sentence. Can only be one topic there. Spotted en route: 

One other thing to note about Timisoara: birds. So. Many. Birds. Just listen:


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