Day 36 Stanevo to Baile Herculane, Romania

After a great breakfast of eggs bacon and the bread rolls Paul made last night, with home-made jams, I load up and ride back along the pitted road following the Danube to Lom then around Vidin and towards Calafat in Romania. I cross over the bridge and look down at the lazy Danube below. There's a sign at the half-way point. 'Romania'.  The border police aren't interested in a foreign tourist on an undersized bike, although they seem to be stopping and  searching every single lorry heading North.  I stop at the second booth  marked 'Tolls and Vignettes'. The young man waves a dismissive hand as he looks at the Honda. "Go."
I go.

There are lorries hurtling in both directions. The bike is buffeted from left to right as they pass. The verges drop down alarmingly into deep ditches - two metres at least.
There is the smell of pesto in the air. Basil fields spread to either side. Long villages stretch out along the road. Beautiful old Romanian bungalows with ornate carvings and paintwork are well kept. The grass is cut. Small white bridges crossing the ditches allow access to the houses.
I see my first horse and cart sign them straight away see a horse and cart loaded with bales.

Satty has lost all sense of time - literally. She thinks it will take only 23 minutes to go 46 miles!  In 25 minute's time she thinks we will arrive two minutes in the past. I ignore her stupidity and ride on.
There's a storm ahead. Classic anvil-shaped clouds and white cumulus castellanus foretell thunder and rain. I think what it will be like putting up my tent in the storm. The wind starts to gust under the towering clouds. The bike is thrown left and right.
I see a hotel and pull in. At the reception, I use Google translate.
"Do you have a room for one night?" The drops are getting bigger outside. She says what sounds like Da.. I guess it's yes and ask how much. It's roughly the same price as a campsite. She shows me where to park the bike and I put on the full security, chain to a post, alarm, wheel lock, and then throw the waterproof cover over it. As I head upstairs with all my slightly damp luggage, I see her ushering a couple of under-dress young women out of the door. Ah.. it's a classy place I presume. Perhaps I'll use my sleeping bag tonight.

The sky is black and the wind is really strong. I'm worried it might set off the alarm. I'll see.

After a 'not dead yet' call home, I head downstairs to see when the restaurant is open. Laid tables are all around but there are no customers.
Is the restaurant open? I struggle in very poor German.
"Da" she replies....there's an awkward pause. I'm not quite sure we understand each other.
I try to order a glass of beer and the menu. She says something like "Drei". Three Lei, ( local currency) I think "Cheap". Sadly, I only have fifties. She looks perplexed as I hand it over. Is it too big? It's only worth about a tenner.
Can I pay for the food and beer together? I resort to typing into Google translate and showing her the result. She shakes her head then points down the road. "Restaurant...".
Finally the penny drops. Her restaurant is shut. That's why there are no customers, but there's one down the road.
I thank her and head out into the, currently not raining, evening street. Sure enough there's a huge restaurant just two minutes away. I settle myself in and order the first thing that catches my eye. Roast beef with some piquant sauce and a salad. A carafe of local wine and an extraordinarily good pud which is cheese pancake with sour cheese and cranberry jam filling. Wonderful.
I pay and head back to my room. On the second floor a few of the doors are open. Young women sit looking bored. They glance up at me and look quickly down. Ah... I get it at last. There's the sound of young children playing in the corridors above: this is life for many in Romania.