It was around 9:30AM, and I walked off of the ship on my way to Romania, once again. Paul, Lindsey, Michelle, and Liz sat in the Taxi beside me not knowing what to expect. My hopes were still high and mighty set on traveling to Romania’s capital, but after stepping out of the taxi at the border (déjà vu), I gave up on that. We were heading to Constanta once again. I felt like I was re-living yesterday but with different company. I told them we could walk to the closest village and then catch a bus (which is what I did the first time), but they opted for the shady-looking van that should have had “Free Candy” painted on the side of it.
For 20 Lei, the driver would take us to Constanta and back whenever we pleased… it was a really amazing deal. So, as I crawled into the backseat of the sketchy vehicle, I tried not to pay attention to the blood-looking stains on the backs of the seats, or the fact that a million flies were probably laying eggs on my clothes and hair. When we were all seated, the driver (this really heavy, permanently drowsy-looking man who didn’t speak a lick of English) turned the key and it rumbled and squealed and took about five minutes to actually start… we all looked at each other and burst out laughing. Lindsey said that if her mother knew she was crossing the border into Romania in a van like this, she would call the Embassy having a fit. Paul said he felt like an illegal immigrant crossing the border. I tried to picture my family feeling comfortable in the rusty van and could not. This trip indeed would never be forgotten.
On the way to Constanta, the van got pulled over. I was not surprised in the slightest, and it was actually the most hilarious thing. We all reached around to make sure our seatbelts were buckled and for the first time realized there were no seatbelts in the van. This somehow did not surprise me either. This van had to have been used in the Soviet Union. It was ridiculous. We were ridiculous.
We made it to Constanta, thank the Lord, in one piece. This was not the Constanta that I witnessed yesterday with Billy and Cameron, however. This was beach-y and pretty. We ate lunch under a terrace outdoors, and I ordered this huge pizza calzone, which was heavenly. After walking around for a bit, and devouring soft serve that resembled straight up Mousse, we got back in the van and were taken to a small, very sad-looking village called Neptune. Not even joking. We had previously explained that we wanted to find some touristy shops (I still needed my Romanian flag), and thus we were taken to Neptune. It would have been cool had there been other shoppers around, but I felt the pain of these people’s financial issues when I looked at my surroundings. Huts containing wooden trinkets and hygiene products lined the area, and the sellers sat in chairs staring puppy-like at us, beckoning us to just take a look. I finally bought some things that I surely did not need but the poverty in these peoples’ eyes was sickening. The one older woman gave me a hug once I paid her a few Lei and smiled gratefully. Maybe I did need a wooden, hand-made trinket box after all.
I looked at my surroundings once more, the Romanian border I had become so weirdly familiar with, and grinned, knowing that I would not be back. At least until I could hit up Dracula’s castle…then maybe that will be another story.
And there are never a shortage of stories, ever.
A.
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