Lost in Constanta

Another new country, will we get new country fatigue?

So the mosquitoes had had their fill of Spanish and English blood and we had eventually gotten a nights rest, in the morning we squeezed a further hour or two from the Bulgarian Wi-Fi, and then we headed for our next border crossing. Dora is quite complacent about these now, so wasn’t expecting requests for vehicle documents. We handed them the folder, including; licences, insurances, laden weight capacities, habitation checks, gas emission logs and particle emission data. We bamboozled them with science. They had no option but to let her in.

In Bulgaria we had to purchase a weekly tax certificate. They seemed more relaxed about it here, but one was required. We  could get one in the next town along.

Romania has a really small amount of coast along the incorrectly named Black Sea. What they have is jammed packed. Within a few miles of the border and a large port with massive engineering; large cranes, humongous container ships. Everything seemed to go in and out of Mangalia.

Mangalia itself was a bustling little town whose shops seem to be rapidly closing. We couldn’t work it out. We had planned this meticulously, don’t enter a country on a Sunday. We have done this before, bad idea, nothing opens. Today was Monday, but it felt like a Sunday, the streets were packed with families. On the the beaches everyone was a enjoying ice cream. This was no ordinary Monday!

It was bank holiday, just our luck.

Some irrelevant, bygone religious festival now meant a family day. No harm there then, it just meant we wouldn’t be getting our new sim card or filling up Dora’s fridge.

The Dora tax situation was resolved in the local garage. €3 for a week, seems reasonable. Why don’t they do that in Spain and the UK, charge visitors to use the roads. Only fair as locals have to pay, maybe another thing for Cameron to renegotiate!

This was cheaper than in Bulgaria, which was an outrageous €5, but more annoyingly came with a sticker that wouldn’t come off of Dora’s windscreen, she wasn’t pleased. Romania, no sticker, just a database I suppose, must remember to renew it!

Further up the coast was Romania’s second city, Constanta.

This was on the way to our real objective, further up the coast, but that is the next post, so wait another day and skip the rest of this one.

While at the thermal baths outside Varna a photo of a building had caught my eye, a beautiful building, on the promenade, looking out to sea, slightly dishevelled. The building was part of a Romanian day trip offered by an agency. We spent ages looking really interested in this bloody tour all the time trying to find out where this building was.

No, it wasn’t these. Yes they are brutal,

but I think they are pretty good. Interesting forms and well put together.

This is really different from the communist era blocks we saw in Bulgaria, which were frankly falling apart and ugly. These are well constructed, but maybe that is just because they are here, on the seaside.

But we couldn’t find what we were looking for. Three times we drove around the city, to no avail.

Eventually, on circuit four, we managed to find the sea front and the promenade and came across this old, now disused casino,

what a glorious location and a wonderful bit of art nouveaux.

I just hope they find some use for it in the near future, it would seem a waste to let it slip into complete dereliction.

How different from the shabby building we found outside Athens, which was in an equally glorious location but only looked inwards, its sole purpose, sucking money out of its clients.

And there are plenty of people around, still enjoying their bank holiday.

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Looks like this one was by the same architect, or the same department with similar principles.

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As we head further up the coast we spot a sign to a local shopping centre. Now these seem to be bastions of secularism, defying the ridiculous religious ceremony, or rather bastions of commercialism reducing cash within wallet.

It is packed. More packed than the promenade, the beach, the town centre or the church. This is where it is happening.

And in the centre a karaoke competition where the pre-teens are belting out saucy numbers by their idols, about subjects that are currently unknown to them. It hurts the ears and every sensibility, my Britishness loathes karaoke.

We take refuge in a mobile phone shop. The centre is plastered with them, every other shop seems to flog mobiles and contracts. How does this work, surely mobiles are not that profitable. In this centre alone we find four Orange branded units.

It is remarkable cheap, €13 for 6GB which will last a month. Far more than we need and for longer than we need. The sim is free too. I think this is the cheapest country so far. We purchase and leave.

Outside the car park is jammed solid and we have forgotten where we parked Dora.

The centre backs onto a lake, where families are relaxing, people are fishing, other jogging.

Now we don’t particular like shopping centres, not for any other reason than it is not a preferred activity, shopping that is. The internet, that is the way to shop.

The convenience of the shopping centre means we have visited quite a few on our travels. They always seem to be open, you know what shops will be there, they are safe, secure and easy to find. No wonder the British high street dies.

We continue north along the coast, gradually leaving Constanta, which turns into a Romanian resort town, another one soon to be on the UK budget option list.

New apartment blocks are spreading rapidly.

Linked via a crazy cable car, bumping along the rooftops.

When finished, this will be a vast resort.

More big engineering, a refinery, a canal, as we leave the city behind us.

A large expanse of flatness, covered in wheat and rape.

And vegetables, this looks really productive land.

Renovation, development, dynamism, progression. These are the first impressions of Romania, but let’s not jump into conclusions. The coast is always very different from the rest of the country. SM.

Dead straight roads. We had been warned about the state of the roads. So far they seem no worse than Bulgaria or Italy.

Eventually a few miles form our destination, just outside Istria,

we pull off the road and stop by a large lake.

And in the fields lapwings are circulating, and in the water Stilts are wading, yes I know a bit fuzzy.

I took one through the binoculars, which was even worse.

At least this one you get the ridiculous proportions of this lanky but elegant bird.

At least we got a glorious sunset, and we were yet again serenaded to sleep by copious amounts of frogs.

GDR
01/06/2015