Cluj-Napoca to Bucharest – 436 km

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Woke to a completely blue sky and felt immediate relief. Breakfast was an interesting affair. Unlike the usual buffet style I was given a menu. In broken English the waiter suggested an omelet. Not being much of an omelet person I asked for bread cheese and some tomato. Out arrived a platter that would serve at least 4. Was something lost in translation? It was hard to tell since I was the only one in the dining room not eating an omelet. How much would this cost was my biggest concern. While eating, to my relief another similar platter came out for another single traveler. With relief I managed to finish a little less than half.

Riding continued to be very challenging today. After about 8 hours on the road I am just plain exhausted from constant vigilance as to other drivers and road quality. A number of times I have spotted square potholes. They are about the size of manhole covers but square - clearly dug by machine to a depth of about 6 inches and just left in the middle of the road. I suppose the intent is to come back and do something with them one day, but in truth no one seems to really care about this, or most other things for that matter. Perhaps they are a message to motorcyclists because hitting one would certainly put the bike down, the wonderful suspension of the BMW not withstanding.

Spent most of the day on E81 passing through Sibiu and Pitesti as the big cities. Lots of wonderful little villages, but the big towns are very hot and slow and polluted. It is getting hotter as I go south (no surprises there), but I am reluctant to shed my protective jacket. The road just blows me away. One moment it is a duel carriageway and speeds of 100 km/hr plus are okay and then abruptly around a bend with no warning it descends to a 40km/hr crawl in a single lane behind a belching truck. Stay vigilant I keep saying to myself.
The highlight of the days ride was the 1/3 of so spent passing through the Carpathian Mountains. Some beautiful scenery here as the road follows the river valley for the whole way. Where the valley is wide enough resorts have sprung up like mushrooms after rain. The closer to Bucharest the more resorts, the more tourists and more tourist buses. As I emerge on the plains south of the mountains my rear is really starting to ache. The kind of ache I get on my Suzuki GSX but after about an hour, not 3-4 days. For some reason the ache is proportional to the amount of gear changing required. On the highway - no ache. Just as I am thinking it is going to be a painful last 2 hours to Bucharest the A1 begins - a freeway! I have never been so pleased to see a freeway. Strangely there were not many cars on it and people were driving sensibly. I’ll never understand the driving here.

At times today I am reminded of my Dad. When I was a kid we never had a car. Dad had a moped and then a small motorcycle (like father, like son, like grandson). When he got his first car I remember the driving. God was it bad. He never got to be a good driver. Perhaps starting later in life was the problem. Guess what there are many drivers like my Dad here. Perhaps in the communist years many did not have cars and now they have come to drive later in life as slow wheel huggers. If they had flat caps they could be my Dad.
Bucharest was interesting in a soviet sort of way. At the A1 petered out I found myself in a long tunnel of soviet style high rises on either side. They went on for what seemed miles but then again maybe it was just the slow traffic that made it seem that way. Usually I am into hotels that reflect the place I am in. But no risks on this trip I wanted clean, safe and comfortable. The trip is about riding not ambience. Plugging “hotels” into my trusty GPS I found yet again an Ibis. This time across from parliament house. The streets are wide here - reminiscent of Moscow, to get those tanks down quickly in a previous era I suppose. Walked into the older university part of town where clearly a renaissance is going on. Lots of pleasant cafes and had a good cheap meal and a big carafe of wine for about $10. Got lost on the way back (not I think from the wine), but a couple of young folk helped me out. Back in the hotel the Simpsons was playing along with some a suspect very soft porn Italian movie. I opted for the Simpsons (it is amazing how the Simpsons transcends cultures) and was soon asleep.

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