२५थ् फो अप्रिल - Romania

Its 22 degrees and boiling sunshine in Romania. Having wandered the beautiful town of Sighisoara where Vled Tepes (inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula) was apparently born, (or lived, there is some debate as to the validity of this) I'm taking shelter in an underground cafe sipping on Coke and fuming about the inability of my USB stick to work.

I've spent ages writing in my journal (thanks Paul!) over the past few days and have written it all up on my little laptop so I can just transfer it. However it can't be recognised at the moment so you'll have to hang on for stories of hideous wedgy fights, the vengaboys, upset campers and meat. Lots of meat.

I also have a load of pictures to show you now that my camera is finally charged. However they too cannot be loaded up. Romania, it seems, is a little behind the times in data transfer.

Which is not surprising really. I have read a very brief synopsis of the former regime and its effect on the country. Absolutely awful things have happened here, especially to protesters. I heard about the teachers strike (well in people!) and then realised how lucky we were not to be getting gunned down for political action as it was here in Romania in 1989. A sobering thought.

Last night we arrived after a hefty journey and inhaled our food in about 30 seconds. After I got chatting to the landlord of our hotel (Jon) and his mate (Lucian,) both very serious but welcoming. About 4 shots of their homemade plum schnapps (poured from a fanta bottle) their struggling English became ironically understandable and we were getting on very well, discussing among many things families, Australia and how the British empire fucked up a lot of the world.

I suddenly realised that these men had lived through the Ceauşescu regime and had come out the other side. On close inspection I got some inkling from their hard-set faces, piercing eyes and reticence to smile that it had been incredibly hard. (Apparently between 60 and 80 thousand people - political prisoners - were detained as "mental patients" and tortured by "doctors", the population were starved, over 2 million suffering directly at the hands of the communist regime, the list goes on.) What they thought of me I have no idea, but I suddenly felt humbled and naieve - how lucky am I to have absolutely no experience of these hardships? All the minor grumbles I usually whine about suddenly blew apart in the face of this, and I felt a little embarassed. Jon understood - he explained that his children, born after 1989, find it difficult to understand these truths. The generational difference, he said, is "too much." Lucian, staring at some fixed point behind me, replied "But things in Romania are much better now."

Its Orthodox Good Friday today in Romania and there seems to be a few things going on outside. Electro-gypsy music (think accordians and violins but with a dance beat) can be heard in the streets. Couples in shell suits and child beggars saunter in the sunshine to unknown destinations, or merely stand on corners watching people go past. There seems to be little hurry in this village, which is a welcome change from the pressing crowds of Prague, now a distant memory. Has it been only a week?

Tomorrow we leave the comfort of our hotel for some free camping: no campsite, just open fields and rivers. That means building a fire (yay!) gazing at the clear night sky away from the glow of the cities (yay!) and digging a hole for your toilet (boo!)That is, we will be free camping if we can find a field that isn't covered in rubbish - the debris of the towns seems to spread out like a fungus from the roadside.

I am loving Romania and Bucharest, where we arrive in 2 days, should hold some interesting stories.