From the Saxons to the Szeklers
A few days ago, in Padic, I had boasted of having had the best breakfast of the last 20 years. Well, the one server on this Thursday morning beat it. It was pretty much the same as the previous day, with the feta cheese, aubergine spread, a variety of home-made jams - plus an outstanding omlette with onions and other veggies. I could have continued and continued eating, but at one stage I luckily decided to stop. Then I said my good-byes to Herda, her husband, the ducks, the turkeys and all other farm animals and after taking a picture from the courtyard of Prince Charles' house, I started my journey heading east.
I did not get too far before seeing the first thing worthwhile for stopping: it were two girls standing still in a field off the side of the road. It looked somewhat akward, till I found out what they were up to: they were biology students from next to Hamburg studying the flying patterns of butterflies and were patiently waiting for a frozen-down Schmetterling to finally make its way. I talked to them for 10 minutes, the darn thing did not bulge, so I left, never knowing if butterflies actually fly.
On this day, the Romanians were celebrating something - due to the language barrier, I haven't been able to find out what exactly. In the first village I got to, Dacia, were young school children dressed up in traditional clothes, white blouses with red skirts and black trousers, with a band of having the colors of the Romanian flag running accross. They marched into a church, where old people were singing and praying.
I wasn't quite prepared (I never am, as the trip is completely unplanned) for the next surprise, an impressive castle on the hill next to Rupea. I made my way up on the beautifully paved road, only to find out that the castle was closed and it would open on the coming Sunday. They still let me take a quick photo of the courtyard. In the city itself, which was a mixture of Romanian and Hungarian, there were not less than two celebrations taking place: it was the school leaving parade of the 8th graders and then that other Romanian festivity I saw in Dacia, this time even with soldiers dressed up in their blue uniforms. Just outside the town, I helped a young boy on a very much battered bike pump up his tire; this was just to reiterate for all the goodness I had received on my journey so far. He thanked me by overtaking me, I felt somewhat hurt in my cycling pride.
In Homorod, I found yet another Saxon fortified monestary, which was not open; as a compensation, the care-taker gave me an excellent touristic map of Romania, displaying Homorod on its cover, for free.
It was after this that I suddenly entered Szekelyfold, the land of the Szeklers, I was in pure Hungarian territory. The fortified wooden churches gave way to stone castles and temples; not only that, it seems the storks are very much attracted to the Szeklers, I went through a village with more of these amazing birds than I had seen in my entire life. Their nests were full of their youngsters, whatever they are called; still not being able to fly, but very much trying to.
A thunderstorm barely missed me and it started drizzling a bit; but by that time I was safely enjoying a light lunch in the courtyard of a grocery store; which was closed. When the owner spotted me, she came out and offered me some bread (just like that). I found the Romanians I had met to be very friendly; the Szeklers were even a notch friendlier. Everyone greeted and would have been happy to tell me the story of the lives had I listened long enough. I managed to escape from a church were the priest wanted to tell me the story of each bell in Szekelyfold. It was interesting to see all signs, on churches, shops, public buildings to be all in Hungarian.
It was quite a climb up a steep, but picturuesque hill, then down the other side, by the time I had reached the major town of Odorhei Secuiesc. Seeing some famous Szekler gates, I got to the center, where I stopped at a cake shop, called Alexandra, where I had three (yes, three) amazing cakes, one of them called Bucaresti, which was a mixture of chocolate and punch, yummie. I needed the energy, as I had only done some 50 km's so far.
The people I had asked warned me about the road I chose and they were right, it was quite a climb up into the evening sunset, but being fueled by the cakes, I had no issues making progress. I flew through the town of Corrund (Korond), which is famous for the pottery, but it was pretty much late in the evening by the time I got there, plus i found it to be very touristy. It was close to getting dark wihen I got to Praid (Parajd) and after some searching for a campground (which never existed), I ended up in a very reasonably priced B&B.