The best travel tales are those where (almost) everything goes wrong.

Nemo2

Nemo2

Senior Member
Location
Belleville, ON
2018......The 'plan' was to take two trains out to the monastery at Manastirea Turnu from Sibiu, Romania.

First leg went great....newer train, met a charming Romanian lady who had spent around 30 years in the U.S. before returning to Romania.

Second leg, an older train, (no, wait, make that an OLDER train), which, when it arrived at the unmanned monastery station, stopped for maybe 30 seconds.......heavy old doors, which swung open slowly if enough effort was applied; Madam managed to get off, into weeds by a wire fence, but I didn't......"Get off at the next station", she yelled.

Which I did......after winding through woodlands for a veritable eternity - once off, asked a Romanian woman, who had just disembarked (and who spoke no English), the way, by road, to the monastery.......her response, (with hand gestures), appeared to be "There's nothing BUT freakin' monasteries around here!".

So.....hit the road and tried hitching in the general direction of the way we'd come.......not a chance...truckers won't stop, and cars apparently wonder why some old fart is trying to grab a ride. No cell phones, no way to communicate with each other...she had the return train tickets and I had little or no local currency.

Saved by a young guy heading in the other direction who had stopped to take a leak. Turns out, (I waited for him to finish) he was in the process of starting up a dairy business, spoke good English, and kindly gave me a ride to the monastery station......was Madam there? Was she ****.

So......hiked up to the monastery.....no sign of her.....back to the road......and here she comes in a car with a monk!

She'd met up with the monk and was likely heading to the second station while I was coming the other way with the dairy farmer.

(Kinda like one of those stage productions where one character walks in through door 'A' just as another is walking out through door 'B'.)

Up to the monastery where they fed us and gave us a personal tour.........(and, yes, we did give them an (unsolicited) donation).....before he drove us back to the station and ensured that we boarded.

People have often said that, if I fell in sh*t, I'd come up smelling like roses.

IMG-0367.jpg
 

When I first hiked up to the monastery, and didn't find my 'Supervisor', I tried asking if she'd been there.....no one spoke English, and my Romanian peaks out a -1 word. Then someone has a brainwave, runs off and comes back with a cook who says "I work in London 10 years".

I replied "Great, has a lost woman been here?'

"I work in London 10 years" - "OK, but have you seen my wife?"

"I work in London 10 years"

"See ya".
 
I have a few. Here's one:

In 2001, my fiance and I were in a small tour group in Beijing. I got tired of the crowds, and being swarmed by people trying to sell things. By the time we got to the summer Palace, I couldn't take any more.

I said to my fiance, "I'm going back to the hotel, right now." He said, "Wait, I'll let the guide know we're leaving." Nope, my legs have a mind of their own.

I started walking. My fiance had all our money, and I had no idea where the hotel was. At every major intersection I sought out a youngish and/or well-dressed person, figuring these were people who might speak some English. I had good luck for the first hour or two.

Finally I got to an intersection where no one could help, although they wanted to. About 20 people (including a policeman) gathered round. Then I heard, "¿Habla español?"

"¡Sí, hablo español!"

It was a middle-aged Chinese gentleman, who had studied in Mexico years before as part of a student exchange. He introduced me to his wife. Then he offered pay for a taxi to my hotel. I said no, I couldn't let him do that, I just wanted directions so I could continue walking.

He asked if I'd allow him to pay for a bus, and I said yes. He put me on a bus and told the driver where I was going.

The bus ride took another hour. It would have been a long walk!
 

Nemo2 said:
2018......The 'plan' was to take two trains out to the monastery at Manastirea Turnu from Sibiu, Romania.

First leg went great....newer train, met a charming Romanian lady who had spent around 30 years in the U.S. before returning to Romania.

Second leg, an older train, (no, wait, make that an OLDER train), which, when it arrived at the unmanned monastery station, stopped for maybe 30 seconds.......heavy old doors, which swung open slowly if enough effort was applied; Madam managed to get off, into weeds by a wire fence, but I didn't......"Get off at the next station", she yelled.

Which I did......after winding through woodlands for a veritable eternity - once off, asked a Romanian woman, who had just disembarked (and who spoke no English), the way, by road, to the monastery.......her response, (with hand gestures), appeared to be "There's nothing BUT freakin' monasteries around here!".

So.....hit the road and tried hitching in the general direction of the way we'd come.......not a chance...truckers won't stop, and cars apparently wonder why some old fart is trying to grab a ride. No cell phones, no way to communicate with each other...she had the return train tickets and I had little or no local currency.

Saved by a young guy heading in the other direction who had stopped to take a leak. Turns out, (I waited for him to finish) he was in the process of starting up a dairy business, spoke good English, and kindly gave me a ride to the monastery station......was Madam there? Was she ****.

So......hiked up to the monastery.....no sign of her.....back to the road......and here she comes in a car with a monk!

She'd met up with the monk and was likely heading to the second station while I was coming the other way with the dairy farmer.

(Kinda like one of those stage productions where one character walks in through door 'A' just as another is walking out through door 'B'.)

Up to the monastery where they fed us and gave us a personal tour.........(and, yes, we did give them an (unsolicited) donation).....before he drove us back to the station and ensured that we boarded.

People have often said that, if I fell in sh*t, I'd come up smelling like roses.

View attachment 254341
Click to expand...
Interesting adventure going to the monastery. What prompted you to go there? I have visited monasteries, but have never gone to Romania.
 
NorthernLight said:
I have a few. Here's one:

In 2001, my fiance and I were in a small tour group in Beijing. I got tired of the crowds, and being swarmed by people trying to sell things. By the time we got to the summer Palace, I couldn't take any more.

I said to my fiance, "I'm going back to the hotel, right now." He said, "Wait, I'll let the guide know we're leaving." Nope, my legs have a mind of their own.

I started walking. My fiance had all our money, and I had no idea where the hotel was. At every major intersection I sought out a youngish and/or well-dressed person, figuring these were people who might speak some English. I had good luck for the first hour or two.

Finally I got to an intersection where no one could help, although they wanted to. About 20 people (including a policeman) gathered round. Then I heard, "¿Habla español?"

"¡Sí, hablo español!"

It was a middle-aged Chinese gentleman, who had studied in Mexico years before as part of a student exchange. He introduced me to his wife. Then he offered pay for a taxi to my hotel. I said no, I couldn't let him do that, I just wanted directions so I could continue walking.

He asked if I'd allow him to pay for a bus, and I said yes. He put me on a bus and told the driver where I was going.

The bus ride took another hour. It would have been a long walk!
Click to expand...
I had a similar adventure getting lost in Rome in the 1980s after seeing the Pope speak outside the Vatican, and I took the wrong bus, and ended up walking around the city, trying to find my hotel. Finally found it, but my sore feet were not happy!
 
NorthernLight said:
I sought out a youngish and/or well-dressed person, figuring these were people who might speak some English.
Click to expand...
1963.....Aleppo, Syria.......looking for the train station.....we asked a couple guys with ties & briefcases.....nada.

Then a voice says, in well articulated English, "It's just up there to your left".

Look down, and there's a beggar in rags.

As Chuck Berry used to sing "Goes to show you never can tell".
 
Nemo2 said:
So you hauled all the cars back again? In the summer I hope?
Click to expand...
As a matter of fact, it was winter again when we moved. :ROFLMAO: I was prepared as I had bought a Dodge 4 wheel drive power wagon... well... I did haul the 33 chevy back, but the 34 Ford was never recovered. And, I sold the Lincoln there, and bought a new S-10 pickup.
 
Iraq - 1963. Two of us caught the train, Baghdad to Basra. 3rd class. One of the other passengers was little guy who'd scored a visa to go and work in Kuwait....(they needed exit visas to go anywhere/everywhere) showed us pics of him holding heavy barbells over his head, was apparently one of their athletes, (we're getting all this info via small sound bites from other Iraqis who had smatterings of English/French, whatever, and piecing it together like a jigsaw).

Explained that we were looking to get to Abadan, Iran, (across the Shatt al-Arab river), from Basra, and the little/barbell guy (via the other passengers) tells us that there will be shared cabs available from the market the following morning.

The three of us share a cheap room in Basra and head to the market in the a.m.

Everything's going well.....squeeze into a cab with 30,000 other guys and then a military Land Rover pulls up and automatic weapons are poked through the cab's windows......at us.

Hauled off to an army camp, (the other guy too), where an officer starts 'interrogating' us....to what end we haven't a clue.

Thence to a police station where we sat until it was dark again.

Finally a relatively senior cop, with a modicum of English, shows up........seems we're suspected of 'trying to smuggle the other guy out of the country'......."Yeah, right..in our backpacks?" we respond...and we're out the door.

Lights of town are visible a little way off and we signal to the Iraqi "C'mon, we'll rinse & repeat".

He looks at us in absolute terror and runs off in the other direction.

The two of us go "Huh?", shrug and head back to the cheap hotel. Next morning...Iran.

I was 20 years old, and it wasn't until later, (hey, I'm a slow learner), that I realized that he knew we could have just disappeared. :oops:
 
squatting dog said:
As a matter of fact, it was winter again when we moved. :ROFLMAO: I was prepared as I had bought a Dodge 4 wheel drive power wagon... well... I did haul the 33 chevy back, but the 34 Ford was never recovered. And, I sold the Lincoln there, and bought a new S-10 pickup.
Click to expand...
Reminds me of.......
 

You must log in or register to reply here.

Back
Top