Land of the shepherds

I had such a nice sleep at the luxury B&B, except some ladies wanted to enter my room at around midnight, I had no idea who they were, worse, I had no idea who I was - so this did not go anywhere. When I did wake up in the morning, I had a relatively late start - the nice thing about it was a downhill ride on a paved - yes, paved - road, all the way to the city of Buru. I got so used to the mountains, it was a strange feeling being back to the country-side, even though it was rather pretty - with the notable exception of some of the towns. Some are really run-down and the people seem to lack any hope that it could get better. This is in sharp contrast to the mountains I came from.

Following the recommended route on my map (the pretty roads are highlighted in green), I headed towards Auid (Nagyenyed)- and it was indeed worth taking that route. It started by meeting a bunch of horses and their foal, they were so cute with their short tails and trying their best to hide behind their mothers. Then I came across two major monasteries, built in the traditional style, however, they were just a dozen years old or so. As the road climbed, a huge rock formation called Piatra Secuiului (Szekelyko) was to be seen - absolutely worth a visit. Suddenly I was in Hungary: I went through two 100% Hungarian villages - however, this took like two hours, as I stopped to talk to everyone, I was curious about how the people live, think and speak. Well, the language is definitely Hungarian, but they do speak rather fast and with quite an "rich" choice of words. I went to a small shop, where an old lady in front of me used words I had never heard or only in some fairy tales. Another old lady told me of the stories of the Second World War, how she helped mend injured Hungarian soldiers (in 1944).

I was about to leave, when I did one more round in the village of Rimetea (Torocko), most of the houses were ancient, but very well kept, and I saw a lady outside one of the nicest houses, I complemented on it. This "cost" me an hour, as she had invited me inside, showing everything, giving me some palinka (Schnaps) and telling me the story of her life. It was interesting, to say the least and the house was memorable.

Finally, when I left, it was a beautiful area, the road weaving through an impressive gorge, when I reached the town of Aiud. There I visited an old church inside the walls of an ancient castle, but somehow we did not make friends. Seeing so many villages, spending so much time in the nature - the town did not appeal to me.

I took some back roads towards Lopadea Noua (Magyarlapad), which, as the name suggests, is yet another Hungarian town. My bike pants had torn a bit and in Auid, I tried finding a tailor - in vain - in this little village I found "Dani bacsi", they invited me in, treated me like a king and solved my issue - not wanting a dime in return. There I spoke to another old lady about her way of life, being a Hungarian in the middle of Romania. (Even though it was June 4th, the 93rd anniversary of the treaty of Treaty of Trianon, no one seemed to care a bit about it - which I think is good).

The back road continued through some Romanian villages and the further I went, the poorer the region became. Some of the "houses" were falling apart, people were living side by side with their cows and sheep.

I then arrived in Ireland: I found myself surrounded by flush, green hills, with herds of sheep grazing happily, occasionally being chased by a dog - like it happened to me, again and again that day. I think I have found a good strategy, I just don't bother, they don't really want to bite in the wheel or the frame of the bike - so I think they are rather puzzled by this whole concept of a bike.

In Ireland, it seems, the roads are not paved and considering the fact that I was tired, plus the green of the hills looked so inviting, I decided to climb up one hill and throw up my tent. I had an amazing view all around - a perfect place to stay. As I was putting up my tent, I noticed someone heading straight towards me - but wait, what is it he had behind him? Now figure this out: this was a shepherd having noticed me, he was dragging not one, but three dead trees up the hill to my tent - so that I can make a fire! When the flames were happily dancing around, I tried retaliating by giving him money, which he categorically refused. We used more or less sign language to communicate, and it went surprisingly well. He offered to bring more trees; this time I joined him, so we dragged like eight smaller trees, which lasted at well into the night. He and his dog, Bogar (Bug in English), left, so it was me keeping the fire (and myself) awake. Bogar, by the way, was really cool, all the shepherd had to do is point at the herd, which the dog immediately understood, so he ran off and steered the sheep away from where they should not have been.

I was a happy camper, literally.