E3: Ilia to Visca: Day 77

Another day of wooded hills and grassland with a few villages. 

As I only planned to walk 20 kilometres today, I enjoyed a leisurely start, picking up a pastry from the "brutaria" (bakery) nearby, to go with a few other items for breakfast. It was a spiral of hard, flaky pastry with stuff inside that had little taste, mashed potato I wondered? I was disappointed as I had hoped it would contain cheese, like a Greek pastry that looks similar (but tastes better). I made a similarly unfortunate choice last night for my desert to follow a large slice of pizza. Of course my problem was that I could not read the labels, I just point randomly at stuff.

My walk began by leaving the suburbs of Ilia, by houses with roses planted outside, now passed their best. Then across the flat floodplain of the River Mures on a road over a railway line and motorway, by fields of grey maize and sunflowers awaiting harvesting, but looking rather damp after last night's rain. Bacea village stretched along the road I was following, strung out along a valley. The condition of the single storey, red roofed houses in these settlements varies. While some are distinctly ramshackle others are well maintained with baskets of red geraniums hanging from their verandas. However, there is a general air of untidyness in these villages. Maybe it is the chickens running around or the randomly parked cars. All the villages have a well, often protected by a roof and trellised sides, although they are little used now. They also have a church with a spire and an adjoining collection of gravestones. Leaving the housing behind the road turned to gravel and climbed up through trees; beech, oak and thorny acacia. There were flowers in small roadside meadows that I tried to identify. My App identified them as yellow helianthus, mullein, "butter and eggs" and white Soapwort. Two aged tractors passed me pulling narrow trailers filled with chopped wood. The trailers were similar to those I saw in Bulgaria, although there they would have been pulled by a horse.

Coaja was the second village of the day, a scattered group of houses. After Coaja the trail deteriorated. What was once a sunken track was now blocked by brambles, branches and the like, for most of its length. By following barely visible paths through the surrounding areas of long grass I was able to keep close to the correct route, crossing a ridge into the next valley, where there was another group of scattered houses. After admiring the peppers growing in the garden of one house I continued to battle my way through the next section of overgrown path. On the top of the next ridge it improved by some hayricks and a field of wild flowers, but the track that followed was a mess of cow prints, their hooves creating pockets filled with water on the muddy morass. I was pleased to leave whichever way the cattle were going, although I continued on a track that was overgrown where trees were absent, or periodically blocked by fallen trees when in woodland.

Traditional hayrick in a field of flowers.

Finally reaching a road I walked to the village of Visca, where I had the unexpected pleasure of seeing a shop, which was due to open in a few minutes time. Once the owner arrived I sat down to an ice cream and fizzy cherry drink. Visca stretched along the road for a considerable distance. I left it on a track climbing steeply up the side of the next ridge. As Visca was my planned destination I was looking for a place to camp. I selected a spot on a promontory of grass, that was almost flat. The red roofed houses of the village are below me, from where I can hear the sound of a chainsaw and the inevitable barking dogs as I type this on my phone.

One of the crosses that are scattered around the countryside.

E3: Poienita Tomil to Ilia: Day 76

A morning walk through woods down to the town of Ilia, and a much appreciated "Pensiunea" for the night.

I reluctantly rose from my sleeping bag and decamped, somehow loosing the bag that the tent goes in. After a perplexing search I eventually found it wrapped up in my sleeping bag. I could not feel too cross as the sun was shining and it was easy walking for the first stretch along roads among the trees. In addition to the usual beech woods today there were areas of birch trees on the higher ground among grassland. Rose hips added welcome colour.

Rose hips beside the gravel road.

More road.

Leaving the road the E3 turned onto forest tracks with patches of mud and large puddles that I had to work around, pushing through dead branches in the surrounding trees. Although the track deteriorated to an overgrown path I managed to push through without much effort. I was keen to press on so I could arrive in the town of Ilia with time to find a room for the night. After the village of Dumbravita the route was on a gravel road along the base of a valley. Fortunately today there were no steep gradients to tackle, and the last part of the walk was downhill or on flat ground. This gave me the energy to admire some of the wayside flowers in the long bleached grass: blue chicory, different types of daisies, yarrow, knapweed and others. In the woods there were scattered autumn crocus.

Large "daisies".

As I approached Săcămaș, houses began to line the road. My arrival was announced by a chorus of dogs, informing others further down the valley that I was coming their way. A couple of loose dogs followed me, barking but not baring their teeth, so I hoped they would not bite. From Săcămaș my route was on a main road across the wide valley of the River Mures. The valley is a key transport route between mountains to the north and south with a railway line and motorway. I diverted off the E3 to the centre of Ilia, where, on second attempt, I found a "Pensiunea" (guesthouse) where I could stay the night. It was a relief to shower off the sweat and rinse some dirty clothes after three nights camping in the sparsely populated countryside. As I arrived about lunch time it gave me the afternoon to rest, important as my left knee was showing signs of fluid build up.

Ilia is not a tourist town, paint is peeling on many of its buildings, but there are a few supermarkets, a fast food outlet and a place selling mainly savoury pastry items and pizza slices. The Pensiunea Atlas seems to cater for workmen, visiting the area on a job. From viewing the outside of other possible places to stay it looks the best place in town (or maybe the only one open).

E3: Woods after Negoiu to Poienita Tomil: Day 75

A steep muddy track this morning, easier walking in the afternoon. 

Morning view after rain

After rain overnight, today was dry as forecast. I left my damp hollow, after picking wet, fallen leaves off my tent, and continued along a ridge admiring the wisps and strata of clouds in the valleys. Then it was downhill to a few scattered houses called Gura Bordului. The route of the E3 from there went straight up the steep north side of the valley, which looked like a wall of trees. Looking at the overgrown start of the path, and the red and white waymark that looked like it had been painted out, I decided to take an alternate route. I had picked this on Google Earth when planning my trip, as on satellite images I could see no sign of the "correct" path. This alternate route was a muddy, steep and unpleasant forest track, only suitable for the huge tractor units with enormous tyres that drag tree trunks of mighty girth, from where they were felled to a road or track suitable for more conventional vehicles. Considerable effort and care was needed to ascend the steep, slippery track up the wooded mountainside but after a few hundred metres of hard won height the track levelled out and improved in condition, about where it was joined by the "correct" route of the E3 coming up from the valley. After this the trail generally stayed on high ground, often following ridges through woodland or, later on, over grassland. After the major climb much of today was on roads, allowing faster progress on tarmac.

My target for today was to pass through four villages so that tomorrow I could reach the town of Ilias. The first village of Vadu Dobrii, I just touched the edge of. I was running low on water. There were no springs, streams or other sources of water on my route, at least none with water at this time of year. Consequently at the second village of Poiana Rachitelii, spotting a place with several people wandering around, I asked if I could have some water (apă). I was duly shown a washbasin where I filled up with plenty. The place seemed to offer rented cabins but had no sign advertising this and I was told it had no restaurant, what looked like one was an "eating place". At the third village, Feregi, located on a hill, there were a couple of taps on the street with cups on a piece of string, but when I opened the taps, nothing came out. There was also a well which, if I had not picked up water earlier, I might have tried. New red fire hydrants dotted the road, a few still in plastic wrapping, it looked like a municipal water supply had recently been laid. Possibly they had also upgraded the power lines in the area, as I had been seeing old, ceramic electrical insulators being placed on top of gate and fence posts, either for ornament or to stop water accumulating in the posts.

Road to Poienita Tomii

After the final village of Poienita Tomii I had completed my planned mileage and looked for somewhere to camp. Surrounding the village was grassland with cows and fenced fields, fences often made of roughly cut tree branches. I continued on the road until it entered woodland where I could camp unseen. Among the trees I found a place to pitch, although the perfect flat spot continues to elude me.

The sign says "Happy Road" and announces the name of the village and the county in which it lies.

E3: Mountain before Baŭtar to woods after Negoiu: Day 74

Highlights today were views of the mountains at dawn and two shops.

Early morning sunlight showed the mountains at their best, the incised valleys sharply delineated by the alternation of light and dark shadow. To see them, first I had a steep climb. The vehicle track of yesterday had thinned into a path today, hidden in places by the lower branches of young spruce trees. After reaching the summit I viewed the ranges of mountains to the north that I would need to cross in the following days. Much of the descent into the next valley was among beech trees, the low sun lighting one side of their sturdy trunks, giving them an air of majesty.

View from the top, Baŭtar lies in the valley below.

After much descent I reached a main road running along the valley's base, then, although it was 1.2 kilometres walk away, I diverted to a shop down the road. The extra kilometres were well worth it. I bought a burger, banana and coffee for a late second breakfast. It even had a customer toilet I made use of. Unfortunately there was nowhere to sit down, otherwise I would have stopped longer (although maybe that was the reason there were no chairs, this was a modern mini supermarket not a tumbledown village shop where old men sat drinking outside). The shop was in Baŭtar, a group of houses strung out along the road. Women in Sunday best were perhaps on their way to church with their men and sons dressed in jeans trailing behind them.

Having descended into the valley I now had to regain the height I had lost this morning as I climbed into the mountains on the otherside. Initially, and to my relief, the E3 followed a single track road up a long side valley, gaining height gradually. Each side of the road there were houses with small holdings, consisting of a few traditional haystacks (i.e. with hay piled up around a pole), a field of maize, an apple orchard, chickens, the inevitable barking dog and maybe a few cows. These filled the flat bottom of the valley bounded by tree lined slopes. Many of the houses had a few beech tree trunks outside, some already cut into firewood sized pieces, ready for the coming winter.

Small holding; maize, apple tree and hayricks in the distance.

When the tarmaced road ended I continued on a track which wound into the wooded mountains, crunching on beech mast that had already fallen. A shower of hornbeam seeds floated down in a light gust of wind, turning as they fell, slowed down by the three pronged "leaf" which rotated the seeds as they fell. Birch trees gave up a few of their leaves in the breeze. There seemed an excessive amount of uphill, although the gradient was not too extreme. My route led to high grassland, dotted with yarrow and daises, where intermittent rain showers began that continued for the remainder of the day.

After what seemed a longer time than necessary I descended to the dispersed houses of Negoiu. Although I had noted a possible shop in my notes, I was doubtful of both its existence and whether it would be open on a Sunday afternoon. I was pleased to be wrong. Outside a wooden shed, with a "Magazin Mixt" sign, a group of men were sitting at a ricketty table, under cover, drinking beer and arguing, all speaking at once. I bought a non-alcoholic beer and snacks off the lady serving (who kept aloof from the arguments of her customers). While I enjoyed my beer and chocolate a black and tan dog approached. On my arrival he had barked furiously in an effort to drive me off, now he changed tactics and looked at me beseechingly with big brown, pleading eyes, although he received nothing for his troubles.

After my refreshments I continued on a road along the valley before turning off on a track which, yet again, led me up the mountainside. At the top of this range there was cow pasture and farms. On attempting to follow the route on my GPS I had a few electric fences to cross, gaining a shock when manoeuvring myself and rucksack under one. Seeing what appeared to be a flat spot among trees where I could not easily be spotted and weary after today's walk, I decided to pitch camp at 5:30 pm. Sadly what appears flat from a distance often turns out to be sloping, as it did today. However it is not too severe, and I do not expect it to stop me sleeping tonight, tired as I am.

E3: Poinana Marŭlui to a mountain before Baŭtar: Day 73

A long, slow day, covering little distance, climbing up and down mountains with strenuous sections of path.

Another large breakfast at the nearby Hotel Oxygen to start my day. On my way to the Hotel I saw healthy horses, loose and unfettered, grazing the verges unattended, and a public sculpture of three large apples. Nearby a party of walkers, complete with daypacks, gathered at the start of the trail I was planning to climb. A guide was speaking to them in front of what might have been a hotel once, but now had no glass in its windows and bushes were growing from the wide stairs leading to the entrance.

Apples at Poinana Marŭlui.

My morning was spent climbing out of the valley in which Poinana Marŭlui lay, initially through beech trees then conifers higher up. I was following a path marked with red triangles. It seemed well used, I could see in the dust the many footprints of the walking party I spotted earlier. A couple of quad bikes passed by, out for a Saturday drive and two men on motorbikes stopped to say hello. While these vehicles are noisy, disturbing the peace of the mountains, they do help to keep the paths open, clear of brambles and undergrowth. Among the trees there were areas of rough grass, on one a flock of sheep was grazing, the dogs guarding them barked but did not approach. Looking back I could see the elongated lake or reservoir extending down the valley from Poinana Marŭlui.

Lake by Poinana Marŭlui.

Once I had reached the highest point, I had to descend on an unmarked path. There was some doubt about its viability, although the last email I received from the Romanian Mountain Association (the SKV) said that I could get through. At first, standing on the grass covered ridge top I could see no sign of a path in the direction indicated by my GPS track. However on exploring under the low branches of the spruce trees, a narrow path was clearly visible. I followed it, descending through the trees and more open areas. In places there were blueberry bushes still with a few remaining berries, interspersed with a low bushes with red berries which PlantNet identified as lingonberries. A few blue campanula and creeping juniper completed the assemblage. A scrambling bike had riden down the path recently, its tyre marks were a helpful guide as to where the path went. The passage of the motorbike was especially helpful in areas where trees had been felled or blown down, as the way was blocked by vigorous new growth. I could follow the trail of broken and bent vegetation created by the motorbike. In this way I progressed reasonably well if a bit slowly until I joined another track, unfortunately the wrong one. My way to the correct route was blocked by a mass of fallen trees. Not being able to see where the bike had gone, I worked my way around the confusion of branches and tree trunks until I spotted the path heading down the mountainside below among intact trees. Somehow the scrambler bikes had found a way around as well as I could again see its tyre marks in the dust of the trail.

A faint path among the trees.

The path continued down a valley beside a small stream. Slippery moss covered rocks, fallen trees and vegetation around the stream made for sluggish progress. As I neared a larger forest track my way was blocked by a mess of trunks and branches. Large trunks of mature beech trees had been felled and stacked beside the forest track further on. Branches and smaller trees had been dumped and allowed to slide down the steep valley sides to its base, accumulating in an extensive, disorderly heap. Attempts to cross it failed, the branches were unstable and could not support my weight and there was no firm ground around the stronger trunks that I could reach. Not wishing to risk a broken leg I had to climb up the steep slope of the valley side to bypass the obstruction high above the valley base, then carefully work my way down to join the main forest track.

My way blocked by the disorderly remans of a felling operation that only wanted the largest trunks. 

There was then a short distance of easy walking on the forest track (which I had to repeat as I left my trekking poles behind, leaning against some harvested trunks where I rested). As the E3 crosses the "grain" of the land, I then had a climb up the valley side. Although marked as a path, it was a muddy vehicle track that rapidly gained height, unlike me who was now tiring.

At last I came open an area of open grassland high on a ridge. It was approaching 6:00 pm so I thought it time to stop and make camp, although I had not walked as far as I had hoped, less than 15 kilometres. Pitching was difficult as there were a lot of insect nests among the tussocks of grass. A couple of stick insects seemed particularly upset that I camped next to them. The flies that had been bothering me all day were now delighted I had stopped so they could truly annoy me, so I erected my tent and scrambled in as quickly as possible. Even so many insects found their way into the inner tent where I had to push them out by flapping my hat, then attempt to kill the intransigent ones. Flies accumulated between the inner and outer tents, maintaining a constant buzzing until darkness fell. Once I had settled in my tent, annoyed I could not view the sunset from my lofty pitch owing to the belligerent flies, a pick-up drove up. Two men got out, through the netting of my tent they looked like hunters, their rifles were a clue. Seeing my tent, they decided to go somewhere else.

E3: Borlova to Poiana Marului: Day 72

A tough climb up to the top of Muntele Mic and a long stoney descent.

Today the plan was simple, climb to the summit of a mountain called Muntele Mic, then descend to the village of  Poiana Marului on the other side. The total ascent today was 1500 metres with several especially steep sections. On these I initially felt somewhat light headed. I put this down to the huge breakfast that had been set before me at the Gasthaus. Too much for me to eat although I did my best with the eggs, little sausages, bacon, tomatoes, cucumber, ham, cheese, blueberries and home made jam. Consequently I am sure my body was simultaneously trying to supply my digestive system with blood to deal with the excessive amount of food, and my legs as they pushed me upwards, leaving my brain a little short.

Much of the height was gained through conifer forest on stoney tracks that forked and converged. Although mostly quiet there was localised forestry work, one of the workers tried to engage me in conversation, as did a cowherd later on, unfortunately lacking a common language we did not get far. Sweating heavily, my progress was slow. Above the tree line there was open heath and a Ski Resort. While I was hoping for a café or similar at the Complex what I expected was abandoned hotels and unfriendly dogs, as I had experienced at Semenic on my last trip. I was right about the dogs and a windowless appartment building, however there were a few functioning hotels. At one two men were drinking coffee on the terrace, so I went in and bought a large mint lemonade in a large empty restaurant with neatly laid tables. The waiter also topped up my water bottle as the heat and strenuous climb were making me thirsty. Probably, they would have liked me to order lunch so they had something to do, but I was still digesting breakfast. In addition I discovered while drinking my lemonade that I had another 250 metres to climb to reach the summit. I climbed this slowly, passing ski lifts and resting briefly at a place with benches, a large white cross and a covered shrine, which was being brushed clean.

In the summit area the track on my GPS no longer corresponded to any path, which made me nervous about the existence of a viable route down through the trees. However after skirting a large flock of sheep, hoping the distant sheepdog did not notice me, I joined a track marked with occasional bright orange paint blobs and pieces of red and white plastic caution tape attached to sticks. It appeared to follow the route of the E3. On reaching the conifers, blue and white waymarks also appeared. There followed a long stretch of path mainly under trees, following a ridge, heading north.

All morning low cloud had obscured any scenery beyond the surrounding trees, wrapped in mist, however after the summit, the sun broke through. At times I could see down into the valley where I am staying tonight, and the steep wooded mountains beyond that I will toil up tomorrow. The path was muddy after recent rain and I was glad of my trekking poles, needing them to stop me sliding onto my bottom as I negotiated steep descents with exposed rocks.

A view of tomorrow's mountains.

Ridge path through conifers.

Eventually the path dropped down off the ridge into a valley. The path was steep, rocky and seemingly endless. My left knee was struggling and progress was slow as I was tired, but finally I reached the scattered village of Poiana Marului.

Rocky path, hard on my knee.

The next problem was finding the lodging I had booked. For the second night in succession it was again not at the location indicated by booking.com. I only found it after asking a local lad who spoke English. At this new location there was no sign naming the accommodation, however on pestering the lady at the nearby shop (who did not speak English) she pointed to the building opposite and later produced the owner, who let me in. I am now at the restaurant of the Hotel Oxygen (or maybe Hotel H2O), where I have eaten a meal on the terrace beside the river, a delightful setting.

E3: Return to Caransebeș and onto Borlova: Day 70 and 71

Yesterday, after a delay of several hours, I flew from London to Timişoara from where I travelled to Caransebeș for the night. Today I walked to Borlova along roads and over a gentle hill under overcast skies.

My return to Timişoara from London's Luton Airport was somewhat delayed. The flight was originally meant to leave at 8:00 am, which meant getting out of bed at an early hour in a nearby hotel to check in. A long queue snaked left and right waiting to be scanned at security, so you kept seeing the same faces looking at you. Once in the departure area a series of delays were displayed on the information screens, these were punctuated by emails from WizzAir reporting the new, later departure times and supplying snack vouchers, followed by automated phone calls saying how sorry they were and asking if I had received the vouchers ("answer Yes or No after the tone"). Finally at 13:30 we were lined up at the gate, and by 14:40 we were accelerating down the runway. On arriving at Timişoara a further email announced an additional delay, a bit surreal as we had already arrived!

Plans for catching buses back to Caransebeș were wrecked by the long delay. There was a late train which I could just make by taxi, however the taxi driver offered to drive me to Caransebeș (a little over 100 kilometres away) and despite the 500 Lei cost (a little under a hundred pounds) I took this option being logistically simpler than negotiating trains and train stations late in the evening. A code had been supplied to enter the hotel I had booked, but as the keypad was a piece of smooth black plastic, and as the numbers only lit up when I pressed random points I had difficulty entering the code correctly. Eventually I was successful but on trying again after visiting the shop next door for a soft drink and a snack, I totally failed to make the door understand that I had the right code. Fortunately a random stranger came to help otherwise I would have been left in the street with my belongings inside. In the morning I left the hotel without ever having seen any of its staff. I had prepaid so there was no need to wait for anyone to arrive and as I missed a proper diner last night I was keen to find a place to eat breakfast. Despite it being only 8:30, the centre of town was busy with several places selling coffee and stalls and shops offering "food to go". As I drank a coffee on a table outside a café, I watched people buy filled croissants from a hatch in the window of the patisserie opposite. Others frequented a stall selling pizza slices and sausage rolls, which they ate for breakfast on the move as they walked to work. White haired men sat on stone benches chatting, women crossed themselves as they passed the open doors of the cathedral. The gold of the iconostasis was visible through the church doors, reflecting the light of many candles. After a slow search of a small supermarket I found enough supplies to sustain me for a couple of days, then purchased a sandwich from a glass walled stall for my lunch.

My walk today was not a long one at 23 kilometres, one should not overtax oneself on the first day. It began with a walk down the road to the settlement of Buchin where I rejoined the route of the E3. Turning off the road into untidy farmland I passed with some trepidation a flock of sheep penned behind a fence. Where there are sheep there are often aggressive dogs. Shortly after, as I put on my waterproofs owing to light rain, the flock of sheep came passed me, a shepherd at the front, another at the back, making sounds to keep their sheep going in the right direction. Fortunately their dogs were not interested in me.

Following a flock of sheep guided by a shepherd beside me.

A length of quiet, single track road followed with a couple of villages strung out along them. Single storey houses in a long terrace, each with a slightly different height and design. People were gathering  at one of the churches, a funeral maybe as black clothes were being worn. Leaving the road there was a ridge to climb over on a track by fields from which hay had been harvested. There were meadows with the remains of flowers, neglected orchards, and rose acacia trees (according to my App but I thought they might be black locust trees).

First ridge to cross.

Dropping down into the red-roofed village of Borlova I searched without success for the "Gasthaus Maria" at the location marked on Google Maps. I asked a group of men drinking beer at tables outside a shop where it was, showing the name of the place on my phone, but they were unable to help, although I was offered a beer (which I declined). Although they lacked any English and I lacked any Romanian they pointed to the building opposite where there were workers on scaffolding. They could not assist me either. After searching satellite images on Google Maps for a place possibly consistent with the pictures on booking.com I discovered that Google also had a "Pensiunea Gasthaus Maria" marked, a kilometre or two down the road outside the village. This proved to be the place I was booked into.

Borlova

On finally arriving at my lodging, the manager was out but I was directed to his brother who was sitting outside beside the pool. As I enjoyed a coffee, he spoke of British politics with which he proved to be more familiar than I might have expected. In the evening over dinner at the guesthouse in a room decorated with rustic farmhouse implements, I chatted with a French family who were also staying there. Their grown up son, a student about to study engineering, spoke good English, as well as French and Romanian. It puts my lack of language skills to shame! Immigration was brought up in both these conversations, it seems a concern across Europe.