Day 4

It had to happen, the dawn patrol call. This wasn’t so bad as dawn came after 7:30. The first night of frost and a 30-degree morning temperature. Oh, where are my mittens? In the drawer at home. Many layers later, zipped up like a two-year-old in a snowsuit, we climb into the van to head to…Yes, another church. Looking for mist in the valley and a church on the hill was the goal and our fearless Romania leader, Daniel, found just the right spot.

Frost on the ground, rising fog in the valley and a slowly illuminating light on the church spire made for the perfect picture. Walking down the road with cow bells clanging, we encounter three farmers and their herd. This time the communication was in Spanish, and I cannot tell you why. I tried German with no luck. After a visitation from three dogs, and a roundup of the cows, we were off.

The holy grail is finding a horse, wagon, and someone driving it. Magically one appeared just as we were about to leave. This is after three days of racing ahead with the van, scampering out onto the road, camera in the ready, only to have them turn and go a different direction.

Back in the van we left to head for Vama, a promised three-hour drive on winding roads. Along the way we stopped at an outdoor flea market, to wander amongst the clothes, mounds of cheese, vegetables, and horses. A table of cow bells presented three men with a hard decision of which bell to buy. Who knew there were so many choices. After lots of consultation and a thumbs up from me, they bought two with two different tones.

We drove amongst Austrian style ski homes on the edge of ski slopes, through pine forests, with a bit of changing color (not even close to Vermont color), along flowing rivers… and wait, a horse and wagon. Everyone jumps out of the van, starts to click away while the horse speeds up and most of us photograph the ass end of the horse. Not to be discouraged we start to walk after him, then we drive after him, and finally find him on a hillside with the horse unhitched.

Imagine twelve people standing around taking pictures of this man loading his cart with hay. For one hour we stood taking pictures, then collecting walnuts, then taking more pictures, then taking time-lapse pictures until he was finally finished. Now we were ready for the horse to be hitched and have our picture-perfect postcard of farmer, horse, cart, and hay slowing progressing down the hillside. No go… the farmer poses with his cart of hay, we plead for him to hitch up the horse, and he refuses. We finally give up, walk down the hill only to see him head for the bushes, a sure sign that he had other business to attend to.

The day ended with no more carts, well one full of manure, and a visit to see a woman decorating Romanian eggs.