Admitting defeat
We drove around the village on the lookout for more signs and eventually found our way back to a roadside motel that we ’ d passed a little while ago . The staff treated us as if we were invisible . Far past the point of caring by now , I spoke in English and bluntly . We chased them until they were forced to acknowledge us at which point we were given the keys to a room and again dismissed in a way that brooked no argument . I didn ’ t care . By this point I didn ’ t want chit chat with anyone , just four walls and a door to shut the world out for a few hours . We ate a delicious meal there , letting out a dry chuckle that contained no real humour as I read the menu that informed us of the legendary warm welcome we could expect . We woke with hearts that were slightly less heavy than the previous day . We decided to get out by the most direct route possible , forget the Transfârâgâşân , I ’ d harboured hopes that the night would recover me enough to attempt to get to it again but we decided it was probably madness to try it on slow bikes anyhow . I still regret that we missed it but I know I would not have appreciated it then . Better to leave it as a lure for next time .
long before I had cause to be grateful for this persistent habit . We entered a town , and I slowed , the cars behind us drawing closer . As we rounded a blind bend , two children not more than 10 years of age dashed in front of me . I wondered for the next few miles and beyond whether they would have seen tomorrow had I not been holding up the traffic . The painted warnings of outlined bodies on the road seemed to suggest not .
And so , we set out . The roads became more winding , traffic speed and density decreased a little and the countryside took our breath away . We travelled next to a river bordered by lush green mountains for some time and I began to relax again . And then the driver who decided he needed to be past us more than I needed my life happened . Over the following hour by the roadside , I let the rage drain from me , as we ate and drank . The beggar who approached us with his hand out as we set off again caused me to snort cynically . He must have the worst luck in the world to try and elicit charity from me at what must be my least charitable life moment . Sad to say , but I gave him a withering look and scornfully revved my engine as I moved off . I was losing my battle not to let my anger spill out at those undeserving of it .
The road brought further insights . We entered a 50 kph zone . A few metres down the roadworks sign informed us that the maximum speed was 70 kph , still more metres down the road we were informed we were now leaving the 50kph zone . I began to understand why people disregarded the speed limit signs . Despite this , I couldn ’ t stop my habitual slowing for built up areas . Although this led to Mickey ’ s back wheel being constantly harried and my worry for him to constantly gnaw at me , it wasn ’ t