E3 in Romania: Comments so far

This trip only covered a modest part of the E3 in Romania. The first part of it from the Iron Gates Dam to Carbunari was straightforward, although with some steep climbs and a few overgrown sections. The next few days were more challenging. I had to give up on the Nera Gorge where the path was both overgrown, indistinct and had technically challenging sections. The old railway line after Lake Buhui was difficult, both dealing with fallen rocks, tree trunks, vegetation and a scary bridge.

Much of the route was waymarked with coloured stripes or crosses, and occasional signs. I crossed three National Parks or similar, where the environment is protected. Away from the Danube the area was sparsely populated. Many of those who had settled in the villages were Czech or German, although now there were many empty houses as people had moved away.

Along the initial section beside the Danube, accommodation and other facilities were available but after that I spent much of this section camping as lodging was either unavailable or in the case of the Czech Banat, full. In the National Parks there were some basic campsites with chemical toilets, bins and little else. Shops were limited in number and so I made sure I had enough food for a few days. Inevitably language difficulties limited my interactions with the local population, although my phrase book and Google Translate helped to ensure I could obtain what I really needed.

Apart from a road section beside the River Danube, in one of its more dramatic sections, much of the walk was through trees, typically beech, on forest tracks and gravel roads. I returned via Timisoara, a city I thought well worth visiting.

The start of my walk on the E3 is at this webpage.

My crossing of Serbia starts at this webpage.

My walk through Romania begins at this post.

Romanian and EU flags

Timișoara and flight home: Days 68 & 69

A day learning a bit about Romania and Timişoara, its history and its food, then an early flight home next morning. 

Street in Timişoara

Having celebrated completing my planned distance over the last five weeks with a large glass of rose and a whisky with my meal last night, I was feeling a bit sluggish this morning. However I had booked a walking tour of Timişoara followed by a street food tour. They both happened to be run by the same guide and I was the only participant. 

I learnt that Timişoara dated from the 14th century, when it was part of Hungary, that for many years it was occupied by the Ottoman Turks, before the Austrians regained it in the early 18th century. The Ottoman town was completely destroyed and the city rebuilt with a roads running at right angles in a neat pattern. To defend the town it was surrounded by walls and bastions in a star shaped pattern. We visited the one remaining bastion. Germans were invited to come and settle in the area and help construct the city. The multiple paths of the Bega River were collected in a canal, draining swamps and allowing navigation to Budapest via the Tisa River. In 1848 the Hungarian uprising against Austria was suppressed but commemorated in the name of Liberty Square, one of several squares we visited. Timişoara prospered in late 19th and early 20th century with many new buildings, a lot of them seemed to have been banks, which had a beehive motif in their stonework. Many of these buildings have been subject to decay, loosing bits of their rendering, exposing the brick underneath. Those that have been renovated look very fine, painted in pastel colours including a few in the Hungarian Art Nouveau style.

Hungarian Art Nouveau style building in corner of one of the squares

After the First World War, and the fall of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, Timişoara became part of Romania (a country only in existence since the mid 19th century). Following the Second World War Romania became a communist  country, and from 1967 was led by Nicolae Ceaușescu, essentially as a dictator. Timişoara played a leading role in the overthrow of Ceaușescu with the first large protests in December 1989. People were dissatisfied with the limited food rations on which they had to live, and the actions of the Securitate, suppressing any dissent. My guide showed me some of the bullet holes made when soldiers opened fire on the protesters, which included his father, killing many. 

Bullet holes from 1989 uprising at base of a monument

Due to long period as part of the Hapsburg empire the street food showed the influence of a number of countries such as langos and a type of chocolate cake from Hungary, pretzels from Germany, and burek as in Serbia. Having eating all of these and more I was stuffed by the end of the food tour!

My departure this morning was early for a 6:20 am flight from the small Timişoara International Airport. All went well, the taxi ordered by the hotel receptionist arriving in good time and it was a direct flight to London Luton, so despite feeling groggy with lack of sleep I was soon back in Britain and on my train home.

Buchin to Timişoara: Day 67

Starting the trip back home.

My feet had suffered for walking for so long in wet socks and boots. The top of my toes had small scabs on them where they had begun to bleed. Putting plasters on them to stop them rubbing required  consideration as to how I should go about it. I joined a couple of toes together with the same plaster, but gave a separate plaster to others. A bit messy but I only had eight kilometres to walk this morning to the train station and a few more when I arrived at Timişoara.

Fortunately the dog that bothered me last night was not around this morning as I tentatively walked by, the stones I had collected should I have to defend myself were wasted, so I was soon on my way up the busy main road to Caransebeş. TripAdvisor had a lack of sights to recommend for the town, but I was happy to sip a coffee with a slice of cake, visit the cathedral, its interior glowing with gold around Jesus, Mary, and the saints, enjoy the grass squares and buy a burger (of sorts) for lunch.

Cathedral of St George at Caransebeş

On buying a ticket with the help of Google Translate I asked which platform the train would arrive at. "Two" I was told, but the platforms were not labelled. As the one nearest the station building had grass growing out of it and a stationary engine, I assumed it was the next one across. I was a bit confused when a train pulled into the station half an hour before mine was due. None was scheduled at that time. On closer inspection the paper stuck to the carriages said Budapest, where my train was going. Passengers gathered on the platform to have a smoke while the train sat in the station confirmed it was indeed my train. Despite being an international express the train was not that fast, taking over three hours to cover the hundred kilometres to Timişoara. As the train strolled towards the city I looked out of the window at the flat farmland we were now passing, part of the huge Pannonian Plain that extends across Hungary, northern Serbia and parts of Romania. Pockets of poppies brightened the trackside. They seemed to be building a new line beside the existing track, with new stations. Hopefully the trains on the new railway will be faster.

Timişoara is a big city, I walked from the "Nord" station through an arc of parkland that follows the Bega River south of the centre. A large, white marble sculpture dominates one part of the park, a monument to the unknown soldier, with a facade of Second World War soldiers. The inscription added recently reads "Glory to the Romanian soldier, heir to the traditions of ancient history who fought heroically against Bolshevism and fascism for the freedom and independence of the homeland", while historically inaccurate I suspect it captures what many would like to feel. At tables people played chess or cards. Riverside bars looked tempting, glasses of blonde beer and white wine refracting the sun, turning them to points of golden light. A few people were rowing skiffs on the water by the University, although to me they needed to take their oars further back to get a good strong pull.

A square in Timisoara, note the tram lines and overhead cables

As I walked into the hotel I noticed my boots had a glittery appearance from the mica picked up from the trail yesterday. I have booked two tours tomorrow, but the forecast is for rain.

Sunset over the suburbs of Timisoara viewed from my hotel

Gărâna to Buchin: Day 66

Another good soaking but I safely arrived at a warm dry Pension.

Typical fence made of branches

Although it rained most of the night around 7 am it stopped, so I used the opportunity to pack up my wet belongings and by 7:30 I was on my way. By 8 am it had started raining again with thunder rumbling around me without a break. The heavy downpour soon penetrated my waterproofs and I was worried about getting cold so early in the day, especially as the water was soaking my fleece and trousers. I kept moving briskly to keep warm. As my glasses kept misting up this was not so easy. Fortunately the track was straightforward, no overgrown vegetation or saplings to get in my way, few fallen branches to trip me up. The soil was sandy so the rain did not turn the track into mud although it created deep channels of brown water running down the track faster than me. Mainly downhill (I had climbed out of Gărâna yesterday), partly in trees and partly in the open. I preferred the trees due to the risk of lightening.

I was relieved to reach the collection of buildings that constituted Lindenfeld, as well as being a milestone and the start of a better track, there was a sheltered area of seating in front of a boarded up building, which might have once been a Gasthaus. Under the shelter I used the opportunity to put my phone and kindle in a double wrapping of dry bags as I was not confident one layer would withstand the pounding rain.

After the rain

Unusual haystacks in farmed area on valley floor

Continuing down the gravel road the rain and thunder eventually stopped for a while, there was even a little sun in which to admire the farmed fields of the flat valley floor. The village of Poiana was larger than I expected. A long line of single storey buildings, a few with tiled frontages similar to those I had seen in Garnic, but with tiles missing, it must be difficult to find replacements. Other houses had ornamental lines cast into the rendering and the fancy ironwork gates I had seen in other villages, which I imagined horse and cart using in older times to access back yards. In the centre, by the church, I unexpectedly found a shop open, and bought a can of iced latte and a banana. I sat on the bench outside to consume my purchases. Many houses had benches in front of them, beside the road, where elderly women and men sat, the former hiding their hair under black headscarves. Better than watching daytime TV, they viewed and exchanged comments with passing neighbours. Rain suddenly restarted, and those sitting on benches rapidly retreated inside. I joined a man under a sheltered porch attached to an administrative building to finish my coffee, watching the torrential rain. Waiting awhile I checked the forecast on my phone, which showed rain for the rest of the day, interspersed with symbols for thunder and lightening. However, while doing so the rain eased off to a gentle patter and I continued my walk. 

With the good tracks, stretches of road and the encouragement of the wet weather I was making fast progress. I had booked a room near Buchin but I pondered continuing for another eight kilometres to Caransebeş to catch a train to Timisoara where I planned to catch a plane home. However I had paid for my bed, and it would be cold and unpleasant walking then travelling in wet and damp clothing. I might have changed my mind had not the Pension let me in early, well before check in time. A hot shower and dry clothes felt all the better for having been cold and wet.

Later I walked down to a fast food shack with tables under roof. My chicken hamburger and chips was spoilt however, by my worrying about a dog which circled me barking aggressively on my way this evening. A passing driver kindly gave me a lift a short distance so I could escape its plans for me. However I worried about having to pass the large, evil creature again to get back to my lodgings. In the event he only gave a few barks, maybe as there were other people around. When I leave tomorrow I will have to pass him again. He has a kennel on a corner so he can eye up passing victims. His owner must have a malicious delight in frightening people.

Vila Klaus to the woods after Gărâna: Day 65

A steep climb up to a rundown resort, followed by a descent to a tidy German village where a "Gasthaus" served me a late lunch.

Everything was either damp, such as my sleeping bag and trousers, or actually wet, like my socks and boots. Thankfully after much rain overnight it was no longer falling this morning, instead a low sun lit up wisps of cloud crossing the valley. Ahead of me was the 1440 metre range I was about to climb, over which white cloud was flowing. 

View from by my camp site, the mountain in front with the clouds on top is the one I need to climb

First I walked down through trees to Vila Klaus. A strange old building, with a tower at one corner, dating from 1808. Today it was silent and unused. There was a flat lawn in front where I think the Park Ranger was suggesting I should sleep last night. Unfortunately the tap by the foresters' hut, indicated on my map, refused to give me any water.

Vila Klaus

A long climb followed. Hazy, indistinct tracks and paths, none clear or definite, crossed, which made navigation difficult. Red crosses on trees, marking the route helped, as did my GPS. In especially perplexing places, the path disappeared and I had to push apart the branches of saplings attempting to restrain me, or walk through waist high vegetation in the direction indicated by GPS or red crosses.

A good track on the upward climb

The path goes through here, but is now covered with vegetation

People had warned me the path was steep. It was steep for 700 metres of height gain to reach Semenic at 1400 metres, my highest point since Rtanj in Serbia. At the top the trees were replaced by an expanse of rough grass and low blueberry bushes. Beneath a large metal cross a bell was mounted, and in the hollow below there was a spring where I could refill my water bottle. Semenic village had a church at one of its summits, another summit had a collection of aerials. I tried the church door looking for a place out of the cold wind to add a layer of clothing. It did not budge, then the stiff door was opened from inside by a priest who invited me in. After a moment of reflection before the icons of the Orthodox Church, part of a monastery if I understood the priest correctly, I signed the visitors book as requested and left, adding a layer of clothing in the porch. The temperature at this altitude was much cooler.

The rest of Semenic was disappointing. A pack of dogs were the main inhabitants. Google maps promised all kinds of restaurants and accommodation. All appeared closed, their gates chained, I tried the restaurant that looked most open with a banner advertising a brand of beer but was turned away with a definite "nooo". Some of the buildings, erected in a more optimistic time, were now derelict, missing panes of glass. Possibly something was open in the winter, as this was a Ski Resort, there were a few ski lifts, but "resort" seemed a too generous use of the term.

Abandoned building

The dogs were particularly annoying, barking and following me. They were joined by a few more aggressive animals and I began to get worried. I shouted at them and swiped the air with my poles in front of them to make them keep away from me until I put a good distance between me and the village at which point they lost interest.

Back in the woods surrounding the bald top of the mountain, I rapidly lost all the height I had worked so hard to gain this morning. I passed my second group of day walkers, out for a Sunday hike. At the bottom of the valley, the large building for the annual Jazz festival looked a bit incongruous stuck in the middle of nowhere. However up a hill was the village of Gărâna, a much pleasanter village than Semenic with neat, single storey houses, and people about, chatting to each other instead of loose dogs snarling at me. A Gasthaus was open so I indulged in a late, large Sunday lunch of schnitzel and fries which I was unable to finish (too much snacking on nuts beforehand). As I arrived at the Gasthaus it was raining with hailstones and thunder, so given the poor weather forecast I asked if they had a room for the night. Despite the keys hanging on a board marked "Reception" I was told they had not and did not know of anyone else who had. By the time I had finished lunch, and then lingered over coffee the rain had stopped. I bought some chocolate from a shop for a later dessert, not having any immediate stomach space for apple strudel. In addition to the "Gasthaus" there were several places with German names. Wikipedia conformed my suspicion that it had been founded by German settlers back in 1828.

Gărâna

At the top end of the village there were a series of sculptures in granite (or more strictly dolerite). Curious for such a small village. In the grassland above the village two guys on scrambler bikes were noisily messing about and a flock of sheep grazed, fortunately some distance away so the sheep dogs did not feel the need to approach me. Beside the track there were more stone sculptures. Vertical, rectangular prisms, angled at the top. The front side was decorated with a motif, such as an angel, different on each column. On each side of the top there was a "T" within a circle coloured orange. This was the symbol, also seen on trees and posts of the Via Transilvanica long distance path, a 1,400 kilometre path across Romania. It was a route the E3 followed for a little way. Personally if I had plenty of money to spend on a long distance path I probably would not have used it for lots of sculptures, focusing instead on the quality and maintenance of the trail.

Stone marker for the Via Transilvanica, individually sculpted

Thunder started growling at me from the hills. It became very dark. So I pitched my tent among beech trees on a clear patch of last year's leaves just as the rain began. Thunder echoed for hours and rain lashed the tent. The fabric of the inner tent was becoming very wet, which I was sure it should not. However there was little I could do other than prepare for bed and try to avoid touching the sides, impossible in a tent so small.

Lake Buhui to a hill before Vila Klaus: Day 64

After an easy section this morning, but the trail along an old railway track in the afternoon proved challenging.

Another walk among the woods

Thankfully the rain had stopped by the time I woke up and packed away, although sadly more is forecast in the next few days. The first part of the route was relatively easy, a good track to the edge of Anina. The hillside by the village had a number of half finished concrete apartment blocks, similar to ones I saw yesterday, evidentally an abandoned project. Later I passed a "motel and restaurant", which had also been abandoned although a hopeful sign on the door referred to renovation.

Abandoned, half finished apartment blocks

Much of today was on an old railway track. The first part was easily walkable, although overgrown in places it was on a solid stone foundation with cuttings and short tunnels. Built into the side of the valley the river was a steep drop below me. Later the track deteriorated, saplings were increasingly blocking the path on the old track bed and rocks had fallen over it making the going slow. Many fallen trees lay across the path and had to be negotiated in various ways; over, under or around, but invariably with difficulty. Branches and briers in the undergrowth tried to trip me up. One of the tunnels had partially collapsed requiring an awkward detour around it. In places it was necessary to ford the river, where a bridge was missing or the old railway could not be followed. Although the river was not deep, it could still come over the top of my boots. However my socks and boots were still wet from yesterday's precipitation and the rain soaked grass this morning, so I kept my boots on and crossed where it seemed shallower on available rocks. The river had made a series of natural weirs, with rocks bound together by leaves, branches and tufa deposited from the water.

An old railway cutting which trees are trying to fill up

An old tunnel, the blue and white waymark beside its entrance indicates it is part of the route

A group of five came walking towards me. Four in their twenties and one older gentleman. Using one of the younger lads to interpret, the older man said I was the first person he had seen walking the trail in the last five years. He then warned me about the bridge I would soon come to. A skeletal steel affair where you had to walk along a girder to cross some 40 metres above the river. Fortunately there was a handrail to hold onto and the girder was wide enough for your feet, so you could safely shuffle across, so long as you did not think about what would happen if you fell. I went slowly, holding the hand rail with both hands, moving one foot or hand at the time, very relieved when I reached the other side. A sign said the bridge had been built between 1941 and 1945, and abandoned in 1971, leaving the railway embankment, cuttings, tunnels and bridge in a "deep state of decay". Nature was reclaiming its own.

An old railway bridge I crossed

My left knee was suffering with all the rocks and stones on the path pushing it in directions it would rather not go, so I was pleased to reach a vehicle track. Shortly after I reached the Comarnic cave. This was a "show cave", although, as I understood from the sign, you needed to book in advance with a minimum of five people. Nearby was a spring where I refilled my water bottle and a building with two men outside. They called me over. One was a National Park ranger. I was in the Semenic - Cheile Carasului National Park, having been in the Cheile Nerei-Beușnița National Park in the previous couple of days. Unfortunately language difficulties got in the way but he was trying to be helpful and established that I was headed for Semenic and advised camping on the way as the path was very steep and would take time to negotiate. As I was tired from my battle with rocks, fallen trees and undergrowth this seemed a good plan. I climbed up the next hill and, although only 4 pm, pitched under some birch trees just as it began raining.

Camping Bei to Lake Buhui: Day 63

A wet day in the woods.

Although I was advised that the forester would collect the camping fee in the morning, there was no sign of them before I left, admittedly at what might be regarded as early, a little after 8 am. Feeling guilty I had not paid my dues I wandered around the "Cabana" and nearby buildings. No one was about, so I metaphorically shrugged my shoulders and started today's trek.

For much of the morning it was a gentle uphill, following a wooded valley. A river or stream sometimes ran down the valley, and other times the river bed was dry. The rock beneath the soil was limestone where water's dissolving action had created cracks and caves into which water could disappear only to reappear later when the cavities were full. Stones laid neatly on the trail suggested that, like many paths the E3 followed, an old, possibly ancient, route was being utilised.

Aligned stones suggesting the track had been around for a long time

The main attraction on this first section was Lake Ochiul Bei, a pool of an unnatural blue colour. There was a waterfall nearby, where the water had deposited calcium carbonate as travertine, a rock which gave the falls a rounded appearance. 

Waterfall by Lake Ochiul Bei

Lake Ochiul Bei

After that point the track deteriorated for a while with multiple fallen trees. Occasional bits of pipe, coated in moss, suggested work was started on a project here that never progressed to completion. I then joined a much improved track, it even had crash barriers and multiple, triangular signs warning of "Z" bends. Overkill for a gravel, forest track. Maybe they were once planning for it to become a more major road, only for the project to stall. Fallen tree trunks had bent the crash barriers in places, I doubted they would ever need to stop a car. There were posts with numbers every hundred metres or so. I counted down from 42 to 1, hoping something would reveal itself at zero, but it was just a junction with another track. Not too many flowers today, maybe hiding due to overcast skies, however the blue bells of campanula were nodding their heads.

After a brief walk on a tarmac road a sign indicated that "Ponor Plopa" was along my route. Curious as to what this Plopa was I delayed my lunch for a while. After several hundred metres I gave up, thinking I had missed whatever it was and had a desultory snack of biscuits, nuts and raisins beside the track, only to discover when I restarted that the path to the natural feature was around the corner. Ponor Plopa revealed itself as a cave from which a river appeared. The natural appearance was a little spoilt by the metalwork placed over the cave to stop people entering. However there were benches that would have been a more pleasant lunch stop.

Ponor Plopa

A good section of track, maybe once a railway

I seemed to be on an old railway bed, at least there was a tunnel which would not be justified for a forest track. Later as I climbed up a section of busy road a van stopped to offer me a lift. Tempting, as it was now raining, not heavy but steady, however I declined. Soon afterwards I climbed up a steep, overgrown track. Wet foliage thoroughly soaked my boots, and my socks began squidging in the water inside them. I was glad to join better tracks that led to Lake Buhui (actually a reservoir with a dam). Signs around the edge told you about birds, plants and animals you might see; helpful if you could read Romanian. 

Lake Buhui

Notices told me I was now in Semenic - Cheile Carasului National Park, a different National Park to the one I was in yesterday. Signs even had rules in English to tell me I must only camp in designated places, so I had no excuse. There was an official spot by the lake, beside the Forest Office and Cabana. The man at the office was surprised I wanted to camp in the rain, but could offer no alternative accommodation. (I had thought Cabanas offered beds for the night but it appears you must fill in a form and apply in advance). The camping spot has chemical toilets and a spring down the road for water, so pretty basic, but I will manage.