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| 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.
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.
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