24th अप्रिल: On route to Romania.

3:50 Romania

Romania is flat. Long fields of tufted grass, tall browing stalks and dried out bushes. Dark green and grey hills ring the horizon, the little brothers of the Carpathians that we are heading towards. A white silver-topped church spire gleams above the small red-topped roof village, the tallest thing for miles. Many of the group are sleeping after their lunch, or are shut off in mp3 worlds. It is getting warmer and I am considering flip flops.

4:57

We have entered the houses on the horizon. Vibrant green trees coat the hills as we wind slowly up and down the roads: Penelope, our transport, doesn't like steep inclines. Houses occupy the flat lands, Many are red-tiled and dilapidated – the country feels poor already. We are following the train tracks and the river. White-blossomed trees glint in the spring sunlight as we pass. These flashes of brightness are matched only by the roofs of the bigger Romanian buildings. Wealth, it seems, is a silver roof. Town centres, in contrast, are concrete ex-soviet blocks.

7:00

The sun is going down over the Romanian countryside. We have 1hr till hotel goodness and and Kirsten has just got out the crisps. (A most welcome gift for rumbling tummys.) Having just finished my first book about the history of Asia (The Great Game: On Secret Service in High Asia by peter Hopkirk) I am amazed, and a little apalled, at British dealings in order to protect India over the last 2 years. It's like Afghanistan but with Muskets not smart bombs.

Our “Great” Britain has wreaked terrible carnage in the name of Empire.

The hills are flattening and the villages are more scarce. Clouds have covered the sunset and the truck inhabitants are tired and hngry.