“From Bulgaria to Romania on a Whim”

• August 30, 2020
• By Daryl
• 2 Comments

We had a bad night, as an apparition came in the night, disturbing our peaceful sleep. We had not felt any Gypsy Tail Winds like this, before!

Later, when driving, we were unaware, till then, of the spirits meaning, we were mysteriously drawn, almost pulled across a bridge. The progress led us across the Danube River. Gypsy spirits really do exist, for within a short while, and many questions, the border police where welcoming us into Romania. 

We had no plans. Intentions did not exist. We both look at each other with mouths agape, and the cracked up. 

We headed to the Bucharest capital, and did not need a COVID-19 test or quarantine. It was not suppose to be this way, according to the embassy information. We got into the city for the usual ATM stop and SIMS cards. Then, to find the cultural village museum. 

Arriving at the  outdoor museum that surrounded a lake, we found an enormously complex of small villages, from like the olden days. They took homes and buildings from all over Romania and made a charming village. If it was busier, without COVID-19, there would have been period costumed actors milling around and doing dance performances.

Following directions from the “Lady of the Maps,” we drive up and down the same streets many times looking for hotels. We give up after several attempts, then head off into the sunset, yet again. 

Our next destination is several hours away so we plan to get a hotel along the Gypsy Trail.  The plans to get a hotel along the way faded with the dusk. The homes and building are magnificent, so striking. We pass village after village. Bunny KNEW I would love this country! 

We pulled into our destination, Sinaia is a ski town. The busy-ness of all the people, and excited children, laughing, was intoxicating. There were busy restaurants, and ice cream venders, and a train like trams driving through the streets. Now, to find a respite for the night. We stop at many full hotels.

Our phones are dying and the maps are incoherent, but we do find a place. A Palace; Palace Hotel to be exact; a grand wooden and stone structure perched above a wooded park. It was in the middle of all the exciting action. The building is too old for air conditioning, but the air is crisp and clean, except for the clouds of cigarette smoke rising up from the restaurants below. 

We awoke with a light fog decorating the park below. We sit having our coffee overlooking that park. I gaze into Bunny’s eyes, only to see our unborn children playing in a park laughing and swinging. They are perfect children, barely four, never aging. 

The sun rises, leaving specks of filtered light hitting the park benches and pathways. It was quite now, as the smokers are still sleeping. It is no longer hard to believe where the Gypsy Tail Winds take us.