Motorcycle Explorer November 2016 Issue 14 | Page 118

Travel Story: katie jennings
Aborted plans
The second day things got worse though. We were
heading for the famed Transfârâgâşân a stretch of
mountain road with hairpin after hairpin that is
something of a Mecca for bikers. By the middle of
the day we’d abandoned the idea, deciding that
traffic would probably be worse in such a popular
spot. The trans-european highway we were on was
already populated by gypsy carts, articulated trucks
and everything in between. Unfortunately slow
bikes means that you’re in prime overtaking
territory. There are many times in that stretch of the
trip I wished for a bit more acceleration to get me
out of trouble. I’m not sure it would have helped but
I probably should have listened more closely to
where that wish was coming from. I couldn’t
increase the speed of my bike at all but I could
decrease the speed of the road and let the bikes do
what they were made for. For now though that
thought didn’t occur and we were still in the mind
set of holding out.
again it was too late to avoid me. Both bikes went
down as we jumped free. The traffic never hesitated.
As disappointing as this was I didn’t blame them, we
were walking and OK. But my mood took a turn for
the worse when a car drove past hooting laughter
out of the window with the clear intention that we
should hear it. My heart dropped, I know myself well
enough to know I wouldn’t forget that. Still, I battled
with my developing experience. One fool does not a
country make.
Deciding to stop, we followed signs for a pension
out into the country. It was much further than the
500 m billed on the sign and we began to wonder if
we were still on track. We tried to ask a couple of
people who came out to see who was stopping but
they quickly disappeared again as Mickey
approached them. Finally, someone directed us
though, we weren’t far away and they told us that
the owners would be back shortly. We waited on the
steps for the owners to return. The time gave me
space to shed a few tired tears and pull myself
together again. Just as well as the returning owners
had bad news for us. The words “No room” were
And then we came a cropper.
delivered with no smile, no warmth, no shrug and no
alternatives. Just those two words followed by a
Pulling up due to a prematurely marked temporary
junction I edged forward to the real junction to get a dismissal that was absolute. The bone-deep
better view. Mickey, behind me and keeping an eye weariness and helplessness that settled upon me
was debilitating. I just wanted to hit the refresh
on a car that was in a strange road position and
button. I also couldn’t help myself by now in
twitching, assumed I had set off and by the time he
wanting out of Romania.
returned his gaze forward and realised I’d stopped