When I last posted, I was saying goodbye to Hungary, bound for Romania.
Although Traveller continued to cut out in first with momentary loss of electrics, an issue that had plagued me since Nuremberg, the ride was a comfortable, if long one.
It really makes a difference when you don’t have to fully load up on the morning of departure.
Secure parking, a rare luxury on this trip, really does make all the difference.
It took an hour or two to reach the Romanian border.
No random ‘Welcome’ sign and counter selling vignettas this time.
Romania presented me with my first ‘Proper’ border controls.
The two guards took the passport and International Drivers Permit, and then scrutinised the vehicle registration document.
There were no real issues, although it did take a couple of runs at it to convince them that Traveller was not due her first MOT test (compulsory annual safety checks) until October this year, being first registered in October 2020, and I was on my way in about fifteen minutes.
My first port of call was the nearest town where I might find an ATM.
My stay here would be of four days duration, so local currency would be a Must.
The Romanian currency is the Leu, and I wouldn’t even get my morning coffee without an adequate supply.
Wallet re-stocked, I continued on to my first overnight stop.
The city of Alba Lulia.
A scouting trip ensued, unwilling to be caught out once again with an appetite but no dinner to satisfy it.
I know what you're thinking...
Gotta be a Blood Bank, right?
Alba Lulia is a prosperous town, vibrant and young.
Romania was formerly ‘Dacia’, conquered by Roman Emperor Trajan, and at the heart of Alba Lulia is a large Roman fortification, now home to bars, restaurants and gift shops.
It was here that I met Alex, a young Romanian who knew absolutely everything and everyone.
I kid you not…
He could tell you where and what to eat in Georgia, and then go on to tell you the best way to insult someone from Azerbaijan.
I’m creating a podcast of this trip, and when I get around to editing the Romanian footage, I’m adding a few scattered items under the name ‘Ask Alex’.
Dinner secured, courtesy of a recommendation from Alex, I headed back to the hotel.
The following day saw a three hour ride to a two-day stop in Brasov, Transilvania.
Real ‘Bram Stoker’ territory.
It was here that things came crashing down.
On my first morning, riding in persistent rain, Traveller just stopped.
The engine died no amount of coaxing could resurrect it.
The symptoms were the same as an issue that had baffled the Dealership a month or two before the trip began.
I coasted into a filling station, wondering what on earth to do next.
It’s a nightmare situation, when you’re a thousand miles from home and don’t speak the language.
Thankfully the filling station staff spoke enough of mine to understand the problem, and contact a nearby garage, to which the station Manager gave me a lift.
Having explained the problem, the guys at the garage took me back to the filling station and collected traveller.
Three of them scratched they’re respective heads for two hours, and eventually found a blocked drain in the air filter housing causing a build-up of gunk, effectively choking the engine.
I’m very far from being an expert, and had it been left to me, I’d still have been scratching my head.
This coupled with the other issue, where you might recall that the engine would occasionally cut out with momentary loss of electrics, described in the last post as Traveller having a sulk while leaving Nürnberg, had me seriously considering if it would be wiser to turn around and head for home.
The following morning I decided to press on.
I’d known it was a risk from day one, and that risk was no greater now than it had been then.
I decided that lightning had struck, and was unlikely to strike again.
Then, an hour or so later, lightning struck again.
It was the Nürnberg problem, but this time with a total loss of electrical power.
This is where it gets a little unreal.
I broke down about 200m away, downhill, to the garage that fixed the bike the previous day.
Another recovery to the garage.
Another hour of head-scratching.
Then they found the problem.
A split cable nestled in behind the forks, shorting everything out.
Once found, it was fixed in half an hour.
You’d think that after this incident, I’d be typing ‘UK’ into the sat nav.
But I’m either far too optimistic, or far too dumb for that.
I figured this latest breakdown was a blessing.
This was a problem that had been with me over five borders, and had been getting steadily worse.
It was like a time bomb, just waiting to go off.
Heaven had smiled on me and had made the explosion happen in just the right place, at just the right time, with just the right people on hand.
One more thing before I move on…
Despite my insistence, these guys would take no money.
Not a penny, or Leu, as is the Romanian currency.
I bought them all beers and chocolates, but this is all they would accept.
Such kindness and generosity has left me speechless.
The least I can do is give these guys a mention.
MC Rock Garage in Codlea near Brasov, Romania.
From left to right, Marius, Paul, Catalin and Florin.
Thanks entirely to these heroes, I was soon on my way to my last stop in Romania before crossing into Bulgaria.
