A favorite photo and treasure. Jen looks fresh after a day's total of 3,600 feet vertical accumulation to Lake Balea and the cascades. I wish I had felt that way, too.
Three-ways to the lake. Ride a Ford, take the cable car or move the feet. At the end of the valley, the trail drops down to pass the cascades through the forest (not visible) and arrive back at commencement, where the cable station awaits another car.
Romania has proved, thus far, to be a place where one can have a 'mixed' relationship. It certainly is different from many places we’ve visited. We commenced with 5 days at Julia and George’s pensione below the mountains outside the town of Baile Herculane. We moved on, driving some 5 hours, long in time but short in distance, as the first half of the journey took us through towns, villages and the occasional city. Speeds drop to 30 miles an hour in these small but many regions. Fortunately, we drove on our first freeway for about seventy miles in the fourth hour—thank goodness. Not unlike the Beloved Country, South Africa, white lines, speed limits and general etiquette are mere suggestions, in the case of the former two, rather than mandatory.
The trails are harsh, lightly traveled, certainly not for the faint of heart. Some of the people have been so helpful, nice and generous with their time. One in particular, our latest landlord, proved to be just the opposite. She did not think anything wrong in cancelling our second reservation (confirmed) when a tour group made her a better offer in length of stay. We’re still trying to work it out. However, judging from our three-way conversation, us, she and a translation application, it made perfect sense to her although we might have noticed some embarrassment somewhere under the hard façade. Then again, we do have sensitive imaginations.
On a spectacular hike today, comprising two components, we were exhilarated. It made up for some, if not all, our mental and other struggles. Through lack of concentration, when we met three Israelis at the beginning of the trail, we missed the turn-off for the lake. In our ‘wisdom’, we thought the cascades were on the way to the lake. Remember when you visit Romania, they are not on the same path. This meant once we returned from the cascdes an hour later, we ate breakfast, rested for a few minutes, put on a brave face, kept our whining in check and took the correct trail. It climbed through the forest steeply but steadily, past the cascades (other side) and under the cableway. When we crested the first part, coming out of the forest, we reached the upper-valley, an area surrounded by glorious mountains, filled with sheep, cows, motorists and an awful amount of animal excrement.
From that position, we caught our first glimpse of the hotels (chalets), cable station and high mountains. We probably had another 1,400 feet to ascend. It was spectacular. Most people who visit the region arrive to drive the winding road, known as the Transfagarasan Highway. At the top sits the cable station, restaurants, accommodation and a glacial lake. Above the lake are the Fagaras Mountains, Romania's largest (highest) range, the scene of our next big hike. From our initial observation, the range is outstanding. (More to follow as we try to understand Romania, its villages and towns, while enjoying the mountains.)
As we crest from the forest, the glacial valley surprises us. Another, almost surreal moment. The station, hotels at the top, the Fagaras Mountains above and the glacial lake, Balea, beyond.
Balea Cascades, Romania's prime waterfall.
Some steep and rough sections. The fellow below is close to the road (where we crossed) playing with his baby. Seems like a more intelligent option.
Jen waves, for want of something to do, as we descend into the valley before rising for another 1,400 feet.
Rock climbing helps keep the mind and body a little sharper.
A perspective as we crest the mountain behind and enter the glacial valley.
Our next assault or be assaulted...to the ridge and beyond.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
"Where's the beef?" inquires a vegetarian. 'Hanging, obviously, and over the pavement,...(drip...drip).'
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