We are still in Romania. I didn't want to jam too much info in one post and the Seven "Stairs" deserves it's own chapter (the "grit" will be at the end). I wasn't paying attention when Eugene (our hotelier, tour guide & professor of Romanian history) was describing in detail the Seven Stairs hike (you will understand later why I put "stairs" in quotation marks). I was stuck on the part before when he was talking about the 2 hour trek near a highway before you even get to the infamous hiking spot. I had been walking all day every day in blazing hot sun since Prague & was trying to stay sane and focus on the delights of Europe instead of my Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder symptoms, which were starting to catch up with me. I never go out in the sun back home, but didn't wan't to seem like a killjoy & not go on the hike. I also did not anticipate the unusual heatwave that was occurring wherever we travelled, thus did not bring my enormous black sun hat, which has a 15" brim. I will devote a future post to my adverse relationship with the sun, but back to the story...we left Eugene's house in the morning
and indeed, it was about a two hour walk to the park area where we were to then hike another hour or so before we arrived at the stairs. I was really tired & couldn't imagine that I could keep on going, but we stopped for lunch and a few breaks along the way, and once we got into a more wooded area (ie: shady), my energy returned. We saw some strange signs (they were in Romanian) aong the way and Will, who HAD been paying attention to Eugene's detailed instructions on how to find the stairs, was able to figure them out.
The faded signage, busted up river crossing logs, and excess of detritus in the park led me to believe that this national landmark was not maintained or overseen by anyone. This was not an issue until we finally beheld the Seven "Stairs" with our own eyes (hello lawsuit)!
In the photo with the red LADDER you are seeing one of the "stairs!" This is not a good photo but if you enlarge it you can see I am at the top & Will is at the bottom, waving at me. On the right is a raging waterfall! This was the second or third ladder I'd climbed and I was soaking wet from the falls, the rickety ladders are shaking & clanging as if they about to collapse, and there is apparently one bolt holding this whole contraption together. Something happened when I started climbing those ladders & got closer to the danger & violence of this place: I started feeling really excited & happy! They'd never let people loose on this stuff in the states! The risk factor is just too high. I wanted to keep ascending, but there were less & less boards to walk on between "stairs" and Will wasn't up for it. I did get to climb pretty high though and it exhilarated me for the rest of the day and made the 3 hour walk back more tolerable. We had spent a fun-filled week in Brasov & it was time to move on. We were overnight training it to Sofia, Bulgaria, switching trains in Bucharest. We had an hour or so to walk around before our sleeper train left for Sofia, so we hoofed it around the Bucharest station. We finally found the "grit" I'd been looking for.
A train station is usually in a sketchy neighborhood and this one was great. I would have taken more photos but we had to dodge the glue-sniffing kids who wanted money from us, and photo taking requires some pausing. Will knows I like dive bars even though I don't drink, and he was relishing the super cheap beer in Eastern Europe, so we found a funky little bar near the station & he ordered a beer while I soaked up the rich earthy ambience of the old place...Irish pubs were where I first learned that a bar can feel like home, so whenever I have to go into one, I like the small tucked away one that the locals use - the ones no yuppie or tourist would dare enter. And when we were paying the tab to leave, the bartender struck up a conversation with us (Romanians under age 50 all speak flawless English). He had a genuine curiosity about where we were from & about our travels. He was young & I could see that for him & other young people I'd observed that the US is a dazzling & mysterious mecca of lush goods and wanton freedoms; and that perhaps he didn't run into Americans too often at this little hole in the wall bar so we seemed particularly exotic to him. Our scruffy and rumpled selves may have held out a world of promise for him: of working overseas, of world travel (we told everyone we were "from" Antarctica). I wish I had a picture of him - his openness and generosity of spirit made me realize why I travel: people everywhere are awesome, especially in the places where you are led to believe they are not. I think that is why I love gritty places so much - there is always so much soulfulness in the people there...
and indeed, it was about a two hour walk to the park area where we were to then hike another hour or so before we arrived at the stairs. I was really tired & couldn't imagine that I could keep on going, but we stopped for lunch and a few breaks along the way, and once we got into a more wooded area (ie: shady), my energy returned. We saw some strange signs (they were in Romanian) aong the way and Will, who HAD been paying attention to Eugene's detailed instructions on how to find the stairs, was able to figure them out.
The faded signage, busted up river crossing logs, and excess of detritus in the park led me to believe that this national landmark was not maintained or overseen by anyone. This was not an issue until we finally beheld the Seven "Stairs" with our own eyes (hello lawsuit)!
In the photo with the red LADDER you are seeing one of the "stairs!" This is not a good photo but if you enlarge it you can see I am at the top & Will is at the bottom, waving at me. On the right is a raging waterfall! This was the second or third ladder I'd climbed and I was soaking wet from the falls, the rickety ladders are shaking & clanging as if they about to collapse, and there is apparently one bolt holding this whole contraption together. Something happened when I started climbing those ladders & got closer to the danger & violence of this place: I started feeling really excited & happy! They'd never let people loose on this stuff in the states! The risk factor is just too high. I wanted to keep ascending, but there were less & less boards to walk on between "stairs" and Will wasn't up for it. I did get to climb pretty high though and it exhilarated me for the rest of the day and made the 3 hour walk back more tolerable. We had spent a fun-filled week in Brasov & it was time to move on. We were overnight training it to Sofia, Bulgaria, switching trains in Bucharest. We had an hour or so to walk around before our sleeper train left for Sofia, so we hoofed it around the Bucharest station. We finally found the "grit" I'd been looking for.
A train station is usually in a sketchy neighborhood and this one was great. I would have taken more photos but we had to dodge the glue-sniffing kids who wanted money from us, and photo taking requires some pausing. Will knows I like dive bars even though I don't drink, and he was relishing the super cheap beer in Eastern Europe, so we found a funky little bar near the station & he ordered a beer while I soaked up the rich earthy ambience of the old place...Irish pubs were where I first learned that a bar can feel like home, so whenever I have to go into one, I like the small tucked away one that the locals use - the ones no yuppie or tourist would dare enter. And when we were paying the tab to leave, the bartender struck up a conversation with us (Romanians under age 50 all speak flawless English). He had a genuine curiosity about where we were from & about our travels. He was young & I could see that for him & other young people I'd observed that the US is a dazzling & mysterious mecca of lush goods and wanton freedoms; and that perhaps he didn't run into Americans too often at this little hole in the wall bar so we seemed particularly exotic to him. Our scruffy and rumpled selves may have held out a world of promise for him: of working overseas, of world travel (we told everyone we were "from" Antarctica). I wish I had a picture of him - his openness and generosity of spirit made me realize why I travel: people everywhere are awesome, especially in the places where you are led to believe they are not. I think that is why I love gritty places so much - there is always so much soulfulness in the people there...
