It was a Sunday. And it was very brave of us to attempt to get on the top of the mountain by cable. The queue was as long as 3h so naturally we trusted out host to get in this road trip through the mountains with a guy he knows. As dodgy as it sounded, we went ahead. But not before breakfast.
Whenever I go home I find myself craving some foods that I can have in Berlin as well but somehow at home they taste better. I am taking about liver pate. I don’t even like liver and I clearly can find it here in Berlin as well, but no, I wanted Pateu de Marasesti. So i had it. On potato bread.
We started out journey that was suppose to cost the same but in the end it was almost double, but definitely worth it!
On the way, and not only on this particular road trip, you can find people selling local products on the side of the road. Depending the region, you can find from fruits, canned goods, vegetables, honey, cheese, meat and many more up until berries and mushrooms freshly picked from the mountain forests. And they are really cheap. And by that I mean the real deal blueberries/blackberries/raspberries with one euro only. ONE! And for sure you won’t get it any more bio than that. And we Romanians we find it expensive. Damn, I know that I have stated previously but this is the maybe one of the main reasons I miss home and frustrates me the most while living here in Berlin.
Anyway, we got to the top. Crowded as fuck. Of course. It was Sunday and it was Babele and Sphinxul. Somehow in that crowded mess there was love. And peacefulness:
I have never been there up until now and I couldn’t hold my disappointment when I saw Babele. So small.
On our way back we stopped to a Cave so we had lunch there. It was the barbecue leftovers. Eaten with bread, of course.
Aaaand we got to Curtea de Arges. Remember the view I was praising the last post?
Well, after another booking.com mess up, we got to our room. Our view: wood. Yep. Wood. Our room was somehow in the middle of the building so we had a window that open in the middle of the building. No air coming in, no air going out, no view, nothing. Just a wood view.
We had a great laugh about it but after sleeping in one of the worse mattresses I’ve ever slept in, the fun had disappeared. My mum came up with the conclusion we’ve been built in as Ana of Manole (a local legend where Ana, Manole’s wife was built in the Monastery’s walls as the ultimate sacrifice for a great architectural piece of art).
But at least our road trip to Curtea de Arges was beautiful.
Until next time,