Morning by the Danube
After breakfast overlooking the waters of the Danube, I walked up the road into the mountains, or at least hills. After a steep climb I contemplated diverting to the Visitor Centre of the Iron Gates National Park. However, the barrier was down, there was a dog barking, so I decided to miss it out. Most of the traffic seemed to be going to St Ana's Monastery, a little further up, so I deviated off the trail to visit it. Not an old monastery, it was developed in the 20th century, although impeded by war and an atheistic government it now houses a community of nuns. I stepped inside the door of the church. A group of nuns were carrying trays, each with a candle, a bread roll and a glass of wine. There was much chanting, a priest swinging a censer, spreading the smell of incense, the church bell rang repeatedly. A timeless scene, the traditions of the Orthodox Church extending back to the beginnings of Christianity. Maybe something lost in Western, Protestant Christianity. Most Romanians profess to be Romanian Orthodox Christians, although there are also other denominations. Some of the shrines I see on the wayside look Roman Catholic but could be Orthodox.
Inspired, I continued my walk over the hills. As I walked down to the road to Eşelniţa I spotted a vehicle belonging to the Frontier Police. I had a chat with one of the Policeman who had some English. He asked where I had come from and where was I going today. We agreed the walk would make me fit but I assumed they were really looking for people coming across the Danube from Serbia. Not easy for them to spot as there were many jet skis and power boats zooming about.
From Eşelniţa the remainder of the day was walking beside the road that ran next to the river. There were many Casas (houses) and Pensiuneas (guesthouses) along the road offering accommodation (cazare). They were not the kind you could knock at the door and ask if they had a room, there being no one in residence. Telephone numbers were displayed, for those who spoke Romanian. They tended to be on the Danube side of the road impeding the view of the gorge. I did eventually find a shop where I bought a lemonade and ice cream from a lad who spoke English. His anatomy text book was next to the checkout, obviously studying between customers.
Nearer Dubova I came across a series of stalls. These collected around the face of Decebalus, a large sculpture carved in the rock on an inlet of the Danube. Apparently the last king of the Dacia, a country that preceded the Roman invasion that roughly corresponds to modern day Romania. The carving is a modern one. Tourists are brought in motorboats to see it. One of the stalls was offering the Romanian version of Langos which I had enjoyed in Hungary and could not resist. Langos is a deep fried bread, I had mine coated with what seemed to be a creamy version of feta cheese with herbs.
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| Large sculpture of Decebalus beside the Danube |
Shortly after there was a monastery. The main feature seemed to be a chapel down a flight of stairs. As is typical the walls were covered with paintings of solemn saints. People were writing what I assumed were prays on pieces of paper and putting them in a basket with a 10 Lei note (around £2). So I wrote "for my wife, for my journey, for my sister" and put it in the basket with the appropriate money. Perhaps I should also have asked for my large blister on my left foot to go away. I stopped during my walk today to put a dressing on it, fearing it would deteriorate. While attending to it an Austrian motorcyclist came over and we exchanged details of where we were heading. He was hoping to reach Armenia.
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| Mraconia Monastery |
At Dubovo I found the Pensiunea I had booked. I seemed to be the only one staying there. They asked if I would like a glass of wine. I thought that would be nice and they returned with a half litre pitcher. It was pleasant to drink it on the terrace overlooking the Danube. House Martins dived and soared around me. The restaurant at my Pensuinea was closed so, now slightly tipsy, I had dinner at the guesthouse next door. They had a big party of families with children eating there but managed to find room for me. Grilled chicken, bread, tomato salad with a sprinkling of cheese.
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| Seven years ago I looked down on the Danube from the top of the far mountain |
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