The main problem with using a GPS instead of good old fashioned maps is its uncanny ability to give you the most direct/fastest route, this tends to mean boring motorways. To avoid the problem we have been putting random locations for directions, so at least there's some interesting stuff to see as we pass through. This morning we woke up to sunshine in Hungary and decided to take the boring route and catch up on our mileage. We looked at the map and put our destination 400 miles away in Sibiu (Romania) and accepted our motorway fate.

 

I have been to Budapest before. It's a nice city with some nice sights to see, but today wasn't the day to see them. The failed trip into a Slovakian forest left me with three huge lumps from insect bites on my arm, it looks like my arm is sprouting three new hands. So while i nursed my wounds we sailed straight through Hungary on the motorway in light traffic. The only time we really stopped was for petrol and a bite to eat. Even if that bite to eat was a horrible salami and egg sandwhich from a petrol station.

 

Once we arrived at the Romanian border we had to face our first border crossing. We pulled up next to a man in uniform and gave him our passports, he proceeded to read our names allowed incase we had forgotten them and waived us through. Some other cars had pulled up at a small shed after the border and looked to be completing some paper-work, we took this as a sign to do the same. We approached the shed and the woman inside shouted at us in Romanian; assuming it is tradition each new visitor is given a ceremonial shouting at, we got back in the car and drove off.

 

Romania seems to be a country that does not agree with satnav systems taking the fun out of driving, so they have done away with motorways and directed traffic through as many villages as possible. On the bright side we did get to see a few lovely little Romanian towns, each one filled to the brim with people selling watermelons on their front lawn. Our need for a couple of watermelons was exceeded by the need to make some progress towards Turkey, so we pushed onwards into the hills.

 

As night time began to creep towards us we decided to go with a campsite rather than finding a hidden spot with plenty of sticky mud. We selected the first campsite on the GPS and headed towards it turning off the main road into a small town. As we drove into the town we were stared at by every villager. When the GPS lady happily announced that we had reached our destination, we seemed to be outside someone's house so we made a U-turn and headed back past all the staring villagers. If any of you are reading this your town was very nice and all, but the fat naked man really made the welcoming committee you had formed somewhat unpleasant. When the GPS lady happily announced we had arrived at our next campsite we appeared to be next to a market - it goes without saying the market was entirely stalls selling watermelons. Romania doesn't do campsites it seems, so we bought some water and headed for the hills.

 

We took a few turns into the countryside and saw a sign for "English horse riding school" so followed that turn off, assuming once we passed the school we would be firmly in countryside. The school didn't exist and we ended up in a tiny village with a gravel road; kids played on the street while little old ladies sat chatting. Each person we passed gave us a bemused look, probably wondering what on earth we were doing so far from the main road. We smiled and waved, confident that at least we wouldn't pass them again. After a few miles we hit a live stock road block as 20+ cows headed down the road towards us. Following the cows was a man; when we waved he waved back like this was an everyday occurrence for him - I imagine this small town is high on the list of sights to see in Romania. Further up the road we hit a dead-end so turned back the way we came. We quickly caught up with the cows and proceeded to have the slowest convoy back through the village. My Romanian is rusty, but I think everyone was saying "oh look the couple of morons are back, didn't you find a campsite up there?". Giving up the will to wild camp we gave the campsites of Romania one last try. Fortune favours the persistent, so we're now parked up in a lovely christian summer camp for the evening - complete with church, gospel singing, pool, and WiFi.