Will, Ben and Nevil

We said a sad, or as sad as is possible at 5 in the morning, goodbye to Emily at the airport in Bucharest and had a good disagreement about where to head next. In the end the lure of the Black sea was just too much and I (Will in this case) managed to give a good case for the 300mile detour.

In hindsight my argument was a load of rubbish. The brand new, empty, straight and very flat dual carriageway from the capital to the coast was fun for about 10minutes – as were the incomplete “service stations” that consisted of a carpark and a loo block in the middle of nowhere! Luckily we had filled up with fuel before and arrived in the top Romanian seaside resort of Constanta in time for lunch. There is a huge port and an extensive promenade which I think is a little past its hay day. More Morecombe than Monte Carlo. We saw some sites but decided that the tourist brochures might have been onto something when they recommended Transylvania… A night on the banks of the Danube was followed up by one of the best camping spots we’ve found so far in the foothills of the Carpathians. Hidden away on top of a hill in the sunshine with a good spot for a fire, we cleared the extensive evidence of other visitors and burnt it. This was a stroke of luck as it turns out the black acrid smoke of burning plastic deters bears, wolves and vampires – we awoke in the morning with all of our limbs and no fanged teeth.

According to the Lonely planet Bran castle is the home of Dracula, however he seems to have been usurped by “Queen Maria” whose photos are everywhere. I really liked the small interesting rooms and hidden passageways and decided to put an offer in. The master bedroom had especially extensive views down the valley, perfect for spotting approaching guests! The mystery of the missing Dracula was solved by a particularly bubbly hostel worker when we checked in to Rolling Stone in Brasov. Apparently there are two Dracula’s castles and a very savvy tourism bureau!

Brasov has been a relaxed stop. Nevil had gearbox trouble but he mended himself on the way to the flash Mercedes dealership. The service man had great fun driving the right-hand drive banger (no offence Nevil) and weaved alarmingly in and out of the very shiny cars in his carpark! 700Euros for a clutch plate is a little out of our budget so  Mercedes Van Nevil (he’s now a dutchvan) is going to hang on for a bit. Roshan is leaving tomorrow night and we’re going to do some hiking with the bears and a Canadian from the hostel (we wouldn’t want to have another night with just the two of us, would we?!)