Day 3

Rain today brought a challenge for photographing, but you never know what opportunity arises. We were off to the find the steam engine which had been used for transporting wood, cut from the forest above, but now offered rides to tourists.

The suggestion was made to stand in the middle of the train tracks because? Well, you know, steam engine trains do not go that fast. I safely stood on the side. A couple of blasts, several hisses of steam and the old lady puffed her way out of the starting gate. We then became train chasers as opposed to storm chasers. Whipping at record speed around curves we arrived at the promised bridge to get another shot as the train chugged by.

I imaged a normal bridge that arches over the train tracks, the train gracefully making its way under the bridge and me getting the ultimate shot.

In my dreams! Instead, we jump out of the van looked up and to our amazement it is a swinging bridge 20 feet over a raging river and the train tracks are on the other side. Be warned, when crossing a swinging bridge, one should always be first because the last ones, like me, enjoy exactly what it is- a swinging bridge. Not just swinging, but bouncing up and down and concentrating on trying to place one’s feet anywhere but where the missing boards are. After such antics we clamber up the side of the wet banks to watch the tail end of the train go by.

Our next adventure was a curvy road for miles on end, with a contest to see who would throw up first. Luckily, I do not get car sick, just seasick, but one other did. We were off to see the Merry cemetery, the recently renovated church, and an unusual cemetery. The rain began with a vengeance. While seeking shelter in the church we had an opportunity to photograph a baptism with the baby and her six godparents. The mother is in the background and cannot hold the baby, nor can the father. Baby preformed beautifully, sleeping through the whole experience. The freshly painted icons in the church and the other painted stories added color, charm and vibrance to the ceremony.

Outside the church is surrounded by brightly painted grave markers depicting a wood carved representation of the person and what they did for a living, or in their life. If they were a drunkard, the carved picture and the story below would tell the world about you. What fun, for those who could speak Romanian. A great way to keep the history.

Finally, the rain stopped, the sun came out as we entered another small village. We began a conversation with a local man who allowed us to take his picture, but first he wanted a picture with a woman. He chose his prey, and leaned in to give her a kiss, we thought on the cheek. He had other ideas and did a full kiss on her lips, not just to one lady but two. Neither of which were particularly happy