If you look on Autotrader there is a 2 or 3 year old RP Rebellion for sale via Motorhome Depot. One of the last to be built with the V6. RP from Yorkshire are an award winning high end converter superb quality and well respected.Yes totally agree with those sentiments it's way underpowered and the gearbox i just can't fathom at all and this is supposed to be Mercedes 9G all singing all dancing gearbox, it's f'ecking horrendous!as i stated a few threads back, if they had done this van with the OM642 3.0L V6 engine it would be a great van and even better if they did them with a manual gearbox it would be the ultimate wee van.... I've spoken to Mercedes back home and they are working on software solutions and various other bits and pieces for me namely disable all this safety technical crap and rechip the gearbox, if it wasn't for the paddle shifters It might well be gone!
On a brighter note the Hymer side is superb we're loving that part of it, nothing to complain about there for sure, its actually beyond what we expected... we got a heavy thunderstorm with loads of rain the other night and I loved driving over all the big deep puddles and really mucky ground that everyone else was avoiding!
Jones’s Maiden Voyage
- Thread starter Jane NotRog
- Start date
CaptainPaul
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Taking inspiration from Jones' specification. We thought we'd better be 'better prepared' for unforseen circumstances. So we went shopping for off road supplies. Finding some excellent CE approved equipment. I think we went one better than Jane and Rog's external addition.
As yet we haven't had cause to use them. But you never know!
As yet we haven't had cause to use them. But you never know!
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Jane NotRog
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Where’s the bucket though!? What happens if you need to build an emergency sandcastle?
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Drat! Watch this space! 
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Rog NotJane
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That is the best thing I’ve seen in a long time 
also glad that the shovel is CE marked. Less sure about the safety of the rake.
Is “Black Pearl” a euphemism?
also glad that the shovel is CE marked. Less sure about the safety of the rake.Is “Black Pearl” a euphemism?
- Jun 26, 2018
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sadly no. I did try to con a few people saying that the dash has a plaque which had been signed by Johnny Depp.
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
The car park at Sovata was near to a walk around the salty lakes which sounded perfect for Flynn’s constitutional. It led up past a few houses and then into the woods. I thought that this rock troll playing the flute would be the hilight of our walk.
But, right next to the puddle Flynn sat in to cool himself down we found this:
It’s a size 42 (euro) XXXXW fitting bear print. We’d noticed that Flynn had been a little wary all walk. This print was fresh and it had rained over night so we think the bear had been here this morning. It’s very close to town. We saw a lot more prints: the bear had walked along our path above town. We thought we found bear puppy prints:
…but it turned out to be a European Badger (pre brexit) maybe they’d been making one of those Disney films from the 70s.
In the end we didn’t meet the bear or even the badger and returned to Jones via town. Sovata was slow to wake up on Sunday but there was a very keen nun about. She was up for prayer when we set out and still worshipping god when we got back. We didn’t take photos but I estimated she was hail-marying at about 1.5Hz so that’s nearly 2.5kHMs during our walk!
Next stop Sighisora, birthplace of Dracula Vlad the impaler. At this point I’d normally quote Wikipedia about how Vlad was actually a nice guy and history is a lens but it turns out Vlad was pretty nasty. Sounds like he had a fairly difficult childhood though.
Sighisora is a very nice town. We had an OK lunch in the touristy low town before going up the hill to the old town. First up, climb the clock tower - Jane continues to amaze herself with her nonchalance in high spaces.
Lunch
Tower
Clock bits
The clock has some great automata but the whole thing is in in bit of a state. The clock definitely isn’t running and there are pigeons nesting in a couple of the automata hatches.
Then, a tour of the old quarter, including the covered staircase where Simon and Garfunkel are available from buskers.
Man holding gut in on historically noted staircase.
Back at the campsite we realised we’d parked in the wrong place and decamped to the real campsite.
Wrong
Right. As in correct.
It’s not a cheap campsite; we’re paying for access to the swimming pool so.. in turn we both had a go in that. Ten lengths each as they taught us in school.
We’d intended to go back to town and have a look round when the crowds had gone but swimming and moving vans got the better of us. We planned tomorrow’s travel, barbecued some chicken with black beans and had a drink instead.
But, right next to the puddle Flynn sat in to cool himself down we found this:
It’s a size 42 (euro) XXXXW fitting bear print. We’d noticed that Flynn had been a little wary all walk. This print was fresh and it had rained over night so we think the bear had been here this morning. It’s very close to town. We saw a lot more prints: the bear had walked along our path above town. We thought we found bear puppy prints:
…but it turned out to be a European Badger (pre brexit) maybe they’d been making one of those Disney films from the 70s.
In the end we didn’t meet the bear or even the badger and returned to Jones via town. Sovata was slow to wake up on Sunday but there was a very keen nun about. She was up for prayer when we set out and still worshipping god when we got back. We didn’t take photos but I estimated she was hail-marying at about 1.5Hz so that’s nearly 2.5kHMs during our walk!
Next stop Sighisora, birthplace of Dracula Vlad the impaler. At this point I’d normally quote Wikipedia about how Vlad was actually a nice guy and history is a lens but it turns out Vlad was pretty nasty. Sounds like he had a fairly difficult childhood though.
Sighisora is a very nice town. We had an OK lunch in the touristy low town before going up the hill to the old town. First up, climb the clock tower - Jane continues to amaze herself with her nonchalance in high spaces.
Lunch
Tower
Clock bits
The clock has some great automata but the whole thing is in in bit of a state. The clock definitely isn’t running and there are pigeons nesting in a couple of the automata hatches.
Then, a tour of the old quarter, including the covered staircase where Simon and Garfunkel are available from buskers.
Man holding gut in on historically noted staircase.
Back at the campsite we realised we’d parked in the wrong place and decamped to the real campsite.
Wrong
Right. As in correct.
It’s not a cheap campsite; we’re paying for access to the swimming pool so.. in turn we both had a go in that. Ten lengths each as they taught us in school.
We’d intended to go back to town and have a look round when the crowds had gone but swimming and moving vans got the better of us. We planned tomorrow’s travel, barbecued some chicken with black beans and had a drink instead.
Unexpectedly, Heston Blumenthal visits to cook chicken.
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
I just noticed the automata in the clock have astrological symbols on their heads. I wonder if this is a type of traditional hat I could invest in.
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
In my haste to post about the bear, I missed a couple of other things of note:
I can’t recommend Josef Graf for breakfast:
The clock and figurines were restored in 1998 and again in 2002 so they are well overdue a polish now.
There are also distance markers at the top of the tower. We’re 1872km from London as the Mercury sprints so that’s about 1800 from Hamstreet.
I can’t recommend Josef Graf for breakfast:
There’s no need for that, I only asked what was for breakfast.
Second, the clock tower is really pretty but there aren’t any really good viewsA stopped clock etc.
The figurines do indeed have astrological symbols on their heads. They are the Roman days of the week. In the explanation we saw, they also mix in some Norse names where there’s a crossover. Presumably to keep the kids interested.The clock and figurines were restored in 1998 and again in 2002 so they are well overdue a polish now.
There are also distance markers at the top of the tower. We’re 1872km from London as the Mercury sprints so that’s about 1800 from Hamstreet.
Hamstreet visible on the horizon.
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Years ago I canned down the Yukon River. We pulled into the shore to camp and in the mud at the waters edge there was a bear print a foot long and 6" wide. That night we chose to camp on a small island in the middle of the river!
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Jane NotRog
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We started the day with a walk back into Sighişoara.
I’d hoped that The Spoon Man’s little shop would be open, selling (you’ll never guess) his carved spoons, as well as other higher quality souvenirs. But sadly the Spoon Man seemed to be on an extended break, perhaps on a fork-carving training session, so we just satisfied ourselves with a very late breakfast omelette and a coffee.
Our first proper touristing of the day was at Biertan, which is a Saxon village 30km south-west of Sighişoara. The villages in this area were settled in various waves, from the 12th century until the mid 19th century, by people from Germany and the Low Countries. They built fortified churches on the hilltops, and the one at Biertan is a fantastic example - a 15C late-Gothic church, ringed by concentric walls and towers guarding the perimeter.
The church has a small bastion, where unhappy couples, like this pair,
… were supposedly locked in for two weeks as a last attempt to resolve their differences before divorce. There was only one bed, one table and one set of cutlery. (So much like Jones then, except we also have chopsticks. A set each too.) Apparently this method was so successful that stories claim only one couple decided to go through with divorce in more than 300 years.
5pm! It’s my turn for the chair!
The town surrounding the church is from another era, with its little cottages in various pastel hues.
Our second Saxon village was Viscri.
This is one of the places where King Charles has a house. In the early 1990s, after the Communists were deposed, the Romanian Saxons were offered West German citizenship, and they underwent a mass exodus from Romania. There are apparently only around 12 of them living in Viscri today. After this, most of the Saxon villages started to fall into disrepair and all the old skills were being lost, hence His Maj stepping in.
We got a look around his house for a few quid, and very picturesque it is too.
Then we climbed the hill to Viscri church, which was originally built by Székely craftsmen, but then seized by Saxon colonists in 1185. They then further fortified it and added towers.
The church itself is a more rustic affair than Biertan.
We climbed one of the towers, and it was definitely a more difficult heights experience than yesterday’s clock tower. Even Rog admitted to qualms about the creaky beams and gaping gaps in the floorboards.
It had been a full day, and we barely had time to walk Flynn, shower and change before it was time for dinner. I did try to reduce the future bill by bringing the meat along with me…
We ate at Viscri 32 - an excellent idea by a lawyer and a designer of setting up a slow, local food restaurant in the village, but sadly the implementation was a bit hit and miss. They got two of our orders wrong, and my pork shoulder was massively overcooked. But the rest of the food was great, so I’d say give them time. I’d definitely eat there again.
As we walked back to Jones, the cows were wandering through the village to pastures new. Or Viscri 32.
I’d hoped that The Spoon Man’s little shop would be open, selling (you’ll never guess) his carved spoons, as well as other higher quality souvenirs. But sadly the Spoon Man seemed to be on an extended break, perhaps on a fork-carving training session, so we just satisfied ourselves with a very late breakfast omelette and a coffee.
Our first proper touristing of the day was at Biertan, which is a Saxon village 30km south-west of Sighişoara. The villages in this area were settled in various waves, from the 12th century until the mid 19th century, by people from Germany and the Low Countries. They built fortified churches on the hilltops, and the one at Biertan is a fantastic example - a 15C late-Gothic church, ringed by concentric walls and towers guarding the perimeter.
The church has a small bastion, where unhappy couples, like this pair,
… were supposedly locked in for two weeks as a last attempt to resolve their differences before divorce. There was only one bed, one table and one set of cutlery. (So much like Jones then, except we also have chopsticks. A set each too.) Apparently this method was so successful that stories claim only one couple decided to go through with divorce in more than 300 years.
5pm! It’s my turn for the chair!
The town surrounding the church is from another era, with its little cottages in various pastel hues.
Our second Saxon village was Viscri.
This is one of the places where King Charles has a house. In the early 1990s, after the Communists were deposed, the Romanian Saxons were offered West German citizenship, and they underwent a mass exodus from Romania. There are apparently only around 12 of them living in Viscri today. After this, most of the Saxon villages started to fall into disrepair and all the old skills were being lost, hence His Maj stepping in.
We got a look around his house for a few quid, and very picturesque it is too.
Then we climbed the hill to Viscri church, which was originally built by Székely craftsmen, but then seized by Saxon colonists in 1185. They then further fortified it and added towers.
The church itself is a more rustic affair than Biertan.
We climbed one of the towers, and it was definitely a more difficult heights experience than yesterday’s clock tower. Even Rog admitted to qualms about the creaky beams and gaping gaps in the floorboards.
It had been a full day, and we barely had time to walk Flynn, shower and change before it was time for dinner. I did try to reduce the future bill by bringing the meat along with me…
We ate at Viscri 32 - an excellent idea by a lawyer and a designer of setting up a slow, local food restaurant in the village, but sadly the implementation was a bit hit and miss. They got two of our orders wrong, and my pork shoulder was massively overcooked. But the rest of the food was great, so I’d say give them time. I’d definitely eat there again.
As we walked back to Jones, the cows were wandering through the village to pastures new. Or Viscri 32.
Last edited:
DBK
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Fascinating photos, many thanks. For some reason I can't get the word "bucolic" out of my head...
Grianan
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Jane NotRog
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It’s a good word. I should have used it
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Jane NotRog
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Map.
Carpmart
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- Sep 7, 2017
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I thought that too
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Jane NotRog
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In other good news, I managed to buy three months’ worth of my hypertension medication for £2 a month. Less than the prescription charge! None of the antibiotics for my rosacea, so will have to try elsewhere for that.
DBK
LIFE MEMBER
That's almost worryingly cheap but I guess if the specific drugs are no longer patented they can be made by anyone.
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Jane NotRog
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Patented in 1978 so I’m pretty sure that’s the case. I spoke to the pharmacist who struck me as very professional.
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
I agree - look at the price of paracetamol or ibuprofen in the UK if you don’t choose Panadol or Neurofen. Making drugs is generally not that difficult, developing and specifically getting approval new ones is phenomenally expensive so once the patents are finished, they should be cheap.
Carpmart
LIFE MEMBER
I think the pharma term is ‘generic’ medicine… or GFG - Generics for Geriatrics…
The Pharmaceutical Industry would not be in existence if all they made were genetics… they need the big money ‘new’ drugs… my worry is that they aren’t as incentivised to go back through the existing generic medicines to come up with innovative mixes, to treat more complex diseases; it’s just not financially viable as they need the big ticket new drug sales!
Also, if the NHS was half as skilled at everything else as it is with drug procurement it would be a world class organisation…
The Pharmaceutical Industry would not be in existence if all they made were genetics… they need the big money ‘new’ drugs… my worry is that they aren’t as incentivised to go back through the existing generic medicines to come up with innovative mixes, to treat more complex diseases; it’s just not financially viable as they need the big ticket new drug sales!
Also, if the NHS was half as skilled at everything else as it is with drug procurement it would be a world class organisation…
cliffanger
LIFE MEMBER
Amazing photos guys.
We found a guy who owned a tavern in Croatia. He was keen on wood carvings too - he called Cliff over to see what was hidden beneath his cured bacon …
He said he was looking for a carving modelled on Donald Trump …
I will say, that this photo was taken when I thought he was a sweet old man - before he lifted the lid on his cured bacon ….
Loving your journey - sorry to intrude, but who doesn’t love a wood carving story!
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
We walked Flynn in a loop around Viscri including a very short section (0.25% to be exact) of the Via Transylvanica a long distance path set up by Tășuleasa Social a Romania NGO between 2018 and 2022. The way is marked by a granite carvings. It’s similar to the Sustrans Millennium Markers in the UK but each Via Transylvania marker is unique. I don’t know how many there are but we passed four so I’d guess every kilometre - that’s a lot of stone carvings. They claim it’s the longest art gallery in the world.
The walk climbed the hill above the Saxon Church and afforded excellent views across the plain and back towards the village. The view felt timeless, the double track trail fit for a cart - and probably still used by a cart to the Saxon church rising above a tiny village on a hill in a shallow valley. It felt like it might not have changed in five centuries.
There was also time for a quick game of Dracula vs Van Helsing. Flynn has to be the bad Count since he has the most impressive fangs. He doesn’t quite get the rules yet and generally runs towards thestick stake.
From Viscri we drove south about an hour to Stramba Camping. It’s an odd place - a very friendly owner who flits between Romanian, English and German without really noticing he’s changed languages mid flow. The site is a tiny field down a dirt road. It’s not very picturesque but it has a washing machine (today is wash day) and it offers a bear tour.
The “pick up” for the bear tour left at 5.30pm prompt so we charged our camera batteries and ate very early: Emergency Lidl Burgers. Not as bad as we expected. I put “pick up” in inverted commas because it turned out to be “borrow the camp site owner’s little fiat van, sit in the back whilst the other bear tourists drove 10km up the dirt track”. We were to swap roles and drive on the way home whilst they bounced around in the back. There were cushions in the back but that’s it. As well as a bear tour it felt like we were getting a kidnap simulation thrown into the deal.
The drive to the bear spotting was about 30 minutes with a break half way in for meeting the bear warden with his impressive firearms and to have a last wee. We were also specifically told not to bring Coca-Cola or Fanta as the bears can smell it. It wasn’t clear if smelling Coke would mean the bears didn’t turn up or would turn up and be driven into a fit of rage killing all the tourists one by one until one of us agreed to undo the screw cap. It also wasn’t clear if bears couldn’t smell Tango or IrnBru or were just indifferent to other fizzy drinks. Even more worryingly, we weren’t forbidden honey and Jane’s hand-cream is honey and Tizer scent!
Anyway, we left bear-base-camp and walked as silently as ten excited Germans and two Brits could, following the ranger to the bear spotting hut. We got prime position at the front of the stalls. There was a huge brown bear already there but he scarpered pretty quickly. Over the next couple of hours three more bears appeared the final one obviously mummy bear - I’d like to say we knew because she had a bowl of “just right” porridge but actually she had three bear puppies in tow.
As ther sun set, we were ushered off back to our cars. We bundled the kidnapped Germans in the back of our van and bumped back along the trail to Jones.
The walk climbed the hill above the Saxon Church and afforded excellent views across the plain and back towards the village. The view felt timeless, the double track trail fit for a cart - and probably still used by a cart to the Saxon church rising above a tiny village on a hill in a shallow valley. It felt like it might not have changed in five centuries.
There was also time for a quick game of Dracula vs Van Helsing. Flynn has to be the bad Count since he has the most impressive fangs. He doesn’t quite get the rules yet and generally runs towards the
From Viscri we drove south about an hour to Stramba Camping. It’s an odd place - a very friendly owner who flits between Romanian, English and German without really noticing he’s changed languages mid flow. The site is a tiny field down a dirt road. It’s not very picturesque but it has a washing machine (today is wash day) and it offers a bear tour.
The “pick up” for the bear tour left at 5.30pm prompt so we charged our camera batteries and ate very early: Emergency Lidl Burgers. Not as bad as we expected. I put “pick up” in inverted commas because it turned out to be “borrow the camp site owner’s little fiat van, sit in the back whilst the other bear tourists drove 10km up the dirt track”. We were to swap roles and drive on the way home whilst they bounced around in the back. There were cushions in the back but that’s it. As well as a bear tour it felt like we were getting a kidnap simulation thrown into the deal.
The drive to the bear spotting was about 30 minutes with a break half way in for meeting the bear warden with his impressive firearms and to have a last wee. We were also specifically told not to bring Coca-Cola or Fanta as the bears can smell it. It wasn’t clear if smelling Coke would mean the bears didn’t turn up or would turn up and be driven into a fit of rage killing all the tourists one by one until one of us agreed to undo the screw cap. It also wasn’t clear if bears couldn’t smell Tango or IrnBru or were just indifferent to other fizzy drinks. Even more worryingly, we weren’t forbidden honey and Jane’s hand-cream is honey and Tizer scent!
Anyway, we left bear-base-camp and walked as silently as ten excited Germans and two Brits could, following the ranger to the bear spotting hut. We got prime position at the front of the stalls. There was a huge brown bear already there but he scarpered pretty quickly. Over the next couple of hours three more bears appeared the final one obviously mummy bear - I’d like to say we knew because she had a bowl of “just right” porridge but actually she had three bear puppies in tow.
As ther sun set, we were ushered off back to our cars. We bundled the kidnapped Germans in the back of our van and bumped back along the trail to Jones.
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Well aware! But in the circumstances a v small island that we could scout out seemed the better option! We did hang our sealed food barrel from a slim tree branch at a good distance from our tent.
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Jane NotRog
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We were woken by thundering rain which showed no signs of stopping. Plans for a night or two in the mountains and some hiking were postponed, and we drove the short hop to Bran.
Bran is obviously famous for its castle and is a very popular tourist destination, mostly because it has been promoted by the Romanian tourism industry as having been the home of Dracula in Bram Stoker’s novel. (Dracula’s castle was in a similar location but the description of it in the novel doesn’t bear any resemblance to Bram Castle.)
We took Flynn for a quick constitutional around the souvenir shops, and yes, Bram is very touristy indeed.
My main hope (aside from an actual castle visit) was to purchase some Dracula fangs to amuse our readers. Sadly even this shop didn’t oblige, so you’ll be spared my juvenile attempts at humour.
Flynn safely back in Jones, it was time to view the castle.
Little known Bran fact - the castle is monochrome
Originally, there was a wooden fort called Dietrichstein here early in the 13th century. When it was destroyed by Mongols in 1242, King Sigismund of Hungary ordered a stone castle to be built, to guard the strategic trade route between Transylvania and Wallachia.
Despite its foreboding external appearance, the castle was surprisingly liveable inside. The rooms were small, and all well equipped with fires and fireside seating. The courtyard was pretty dinky too.
The castle itself has no real connections to Dracula, or even to Vlad the Impaler, the 15C nobleman who was supposed to be part of Bram Stoker’s inspiration. But there were of course exhibitions of some actors’ costumes, and a rather nice little one of all the various supernatural beasties in the Romanian tradition.
Vlad and his bunged-up son
Our second tourist stop of the day was the Fortified Church of Hărman. Inside massive white walls there is the 13C Church of St Nikolaus.
This has a 13C bell tower, which actually defeated me - I did have a heavy bag and loose trainers and the last staircase was basically a ladder. I made it 3/4 of the way up and then decided that falling and breaking my ankle was worse than any kudos from the climb.
The church had special benches for the women - the lack of backrests is a deliberate design feature, as ladies’ stiff attire didn’t allow them to lean back. (I bet it’s actually so that they couldn’t nod off - seems a bit cruel to me, as I’m sure they’d already got up at 5am to milk the cows, feed the children and make a start on Sunday lunch.)
I did manage to climb the stairs to the smaller chapel building, which has a few interesting 15th-century murals.
We had parked next to Jones’s smaller brother. The Swiss owner came over for a chat - highly recommending Moldova to us as great for 4WD and a lovely, undiscovered country too. If only we had that peaky V5 with us!
We set off again on the quick hop to Prejmer. Flynn offered to take over driving duties, but this was a very bad idea, due to his inconsistent lane position and tendency to veer right after cats.
At Prejmer, we just parked up in the free car park, and saved the church for tomorrow. Having written up three churches so far, I was keen to save one for Rog. Due to his dreadful childhood, in which the poor boy was subjected to religious art at each and every holiday, he is quite the expert!
After some blog writing, in which Flynn was quite insistent that it was his dinner time…
And a quick game of Innovation…
…we nipped round the corner to Ritterhof for excellent grilled meat, grilled vegetables and grilled, uh, I mean fried, chips. It was all a bit Overlook Hotel again, but the food was good.
Bran is obviously famous for its castle and is a very popular tourist destination, mostly because it has been promoted by the Romanian tourism industry as having been the home of Dracula in Bram Stoker’s novel. (Dracula’s castle was in a similar location but the description of it in the novel doesn’t bear any resemblance to Bram Castle.)
We took Flynn for a quick constitutional around the souvenir shops, and yes, Bram is very touristy indeed.
My main hope (aside from an actual castle visit) was to purchase some Dracula fangs to amuse our readers. Sadly even this shop didn’t oblige, so you’ll be spared my juvenile attempts at humour.
Flynn safely back in Jones, it was time to view the castle.
Little known Bran fact - the castle is monochrome
Originally, there was a wooden fort called Dietrichstein here early in the 13th century. When it was destroyed by Mongols in 1242, King Sigismund of Hungary ordered a stone castle to be built, to guard the strategic trade route between Transylvania and Wallachia.
Despite its foreboding external appearance, the castle was surprisingly liveable inside. The rooms were small, and all well equipped with fires and fireside seating. The courtyard was pretty dinky too.
The castle itself has no real connections to Dracula, or even to Vlad the Impaler, the 15C nobleman who was supposed to be part of Bram Stoker’s inspiration. But there were of course exhibitions of some actors’ costumes, and a rather nice little one of all the various supernatural beasties in the Romanian tradition.
Vlad and his bunged-up son
Our second tourist stop of the day was the Fortified Church of Hărman. Inside massive white walls there is the 13C Church of St Nikolaus.
This has a 13C bell tower, which actually defeated me - I did have a heavy bag and loose trainers and the last staircase was basically a ladder. I made it 3/4 of the way up and then decided that falling and breaking my ankle was worse than any kudos from the climb.
The church had special benches for the women - the lack of backrests is a deliberate design feature, as ladies’ stiff attire didn’t allow them to lean back. (I bet it’s actually so that they couldn’t nod off - seems a bit cruel to me, as I’m sure they’d already got up at 5am to milk the cows, feed the children and make a start on Sunday lunch.)
I did manage to climb the stairs to the smaller chapel building, which has a few interesting 15th-century murals.
We had parked next to Jones’s smaller brother. The Swiss owner came over for a chat - highly recommending Moldova to us as great for 4WD and a lovely, undiscovered country too. If only we had that peaky V5 with us!
We set off again on the quick hop to Prejmer. Flynn offered to take over driving duties, but this was a very bad idea, due to his inconsistent lane position and tendency to veer right after cats.
At Prejmer, we just parked up in the free car park, and saved the church for tomorrow. Having written up three churches so far, I was keen to save one for Rog. Due to his dreadful childhood, in which the poor boy was subjected to religious art at each and every holiday, he is quite the expert!
After some blog writing, in which Flynn was quite insistent that it was his dinner time…
And a quick game of Innovation…
…we nipped round the corner to Ritterhof for excellent grilled meat, grilled vegetables and grilled, uh, I mean fried, chips. It was all a bit Overlook Hotel again, but the food was good.
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Jane NotRog
LIFE MEMBER
Map for the last couple of days.
Rog NotJane
LIFE MEMBER
In the last post, Jane set me up to be all knowledgable about the fortified churches. Unfortunately, I think the main interesting point of fortified churches is the fortified bit, not the church. Also, I know very little about churches just a tiny bit more than Jane and enough to bamboozle bore her.
Prejmur is a fairly ordinary Greek cross church. The Greek cross means the nave chancel and both transepts are equal length. That makes it feel quite weird if you’re used to cruciform churches and it’s fairly rare in Romania (and the UK). Like all the reformist churches it’s pretty plain inside and I think Prejmur has probably been looted since its glory days. The only interesting thing I could see was that the nave’s Roof was probably rebuilt - the vaulting is brick and more fancy like.
The fortifications are a different matter. The walls are 5m thick with 270 rooms lining the walls. There is room for 1600 people to take refuge within the fort. Nearly all of the rooms were locked but we could ascend the rather precarious steps to the upper layer.
Churching complete we bought some commemorative gingerbread then set off for the Black Sea. Our journey will be a few days so first, the biggest Auchun you’ve ever seen for supplies.
From here to the Black Sea is a bit of a touristic desert. There are mountains - where Flynn got a walk. On the way up we tried to make a joke (in English) to a local framer cutting logs.On our way back, he stopped us and haltingly told us how much he loved living in the mountains and how good it was for his health. He was probably about my age so impressive that a Romanian farmer in his late 50s spoke English at all. Very touching that he made the effort to speak to us. Everywhere we go, Romanians are friendly or helpful or both.
We considered a wild camp along the river Buzău, although the place was amazing, there were no camping signs and the local quarry company had been closing off the access points.
Flynn got a swim but we decided to give it a pass and went on to something Jane only discovered last night: “mud volcano camping”. The camp site is obviously named for its proximity to one of only three European mud volcanoes. We’ll be visiting tomorrow.
Even without its geological name sake, Mud Volcano Camping is a pretty amazing place. It’s very rural. Garmin engaged “adventure mode” again and we bumped along a tight windy gravel track for about 10km to get here. We got a great pitch up by bumping up a hill above the other vans - perhaps it should be called “Overlander’s Row”. There’s us, a Land Rover 110 with a roof tent and oh… a caravan.
We were planning to eat in Jones tonight but I swung by the restaurant and found a couple of young crones chopping peppers and lighting fires. No menu in sight. Without hesitation we saddled Flynn up and wandered over there. Dinner was Sarmali for Jane - pickled cabbage stuffed with pork and rice. Mine was Tochițura - sausage and pork stew (reduced fat version please). Both were served with cheesy polenta and to make the whole thing more healthy, we shared some pickled cabbage and peppers. Then we undid that goodness with a cottage cheese donut with cherries. It was very very good.
Jane befriended another street (campsite?) dog on the way home. He then came with Flynn and me for a short walk.
Prejmur is a fairly ordinary Greek cross church. The Greek cross means the nave chancel and both transepts are equal length. That makes it feel quite weird if you’re used to cruciform churches and it’s fairly rare in Romania (and the UK). Like all the reformist churches it’s pretty plain inside and I think Prejmur has probably been looted since its glory days. The only interesting thing I could see was that the nave’s Roof was probably rebuilt - the vaulting is brick and more fancy like.
The fortifications are a different matter. The walls are 5m thick with 270 rooms lining the walls. There is room for 1600 people to take refuge within the fort. Nearly all of the rooms were locked but we could ascend the rather precarious steps to the upper layer.
Churching complete we bought some commemorative gingerbread then set off for the Black Sea. Our journey will be a few days so first, the biggest Auchun you’ve ever seen for supplies.
Gold or blue? It’s like that internet dress.
From here to the Black Sea is a bit of a touristic desert. There are mountains - where Flynn got a walk. On the way up we tried to make a joke (in English) to a local framer cutting logs.On our way back, he stopped us and haltingly told us how much he loved living in the mountains and how good it was for his health. He was probably about my age so impressive that a Romanian farmer in his late 50s spoke English at all. Very touching that he made the effort to speak to us. Everywhere we go, Romanians are friendly or helpful or both.
We considered a wild camp along the river Buzău, although the place was amazing, there were no camping signs and the local quarry company had been closing off the access points.
Flynn got a swim but we decided to give it a pass and went on to something Jane only discovered last night: “mud volcano camping”. The camp site is obviously named for its proximity to one of only three European mud volcanoes. We’ll be visiting tomorrow.
Even without its geological name sake, Mud Volcano Camping is a pretty amazing place. It’s very rural. Garmin engaged “adventure mode” again and we bumped along a tight windy gravel track for about 10km to get here. We got a great pitch up by bumping up a hill above the other vans - perhaps it should be called “Overlander’s Row”. There’s us, a Land Rover 110 with a roof tent and oh… a caravan.
We were planning to eat in Jones tonight but I swung by the restaurant and found a couple of young crones chopping peppers and lighting fires. No menu in sight. Without hesitation we saddled Flynn up and wandered over there. Dinner was Sarmali for Jane - pickled cabbage stuffed with pork and rice. Mine was Tochițura - sausage and pork stew (reduced fat version please). Both were served with cheesy polenta and to make the whole thing more healthy, we shared some pickled cabbage and peppers. Then we undid that goodness with a cottage cheese donut with cherries. It was very very good.
Jane befriended another street (campsite?) dog on the way home. He then came with Flynn and me for a short walk.
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May 23 (northern ish) france
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