Motorcycle Explorer November 2016 Issue 14 | Page 120

Travel Story: katie jennings
Changing tack
We hit the next town and filled up. “We need to
change something up” I said to Mickey. Miracle of
miracles my brain was catching up with the situation
and my usual, default hunker-down-and-make-it-
work approach gave way to a more intelligent way of
thinking. Our current approach wasn’t working and I
felt there must be something we could do. We
agreed to get onto the smaller roads. Mercifully, all
changed instantly and I could breathe again. The
traffic disappeared, the people smiled, some even
returned waves. It lifted me a little, not enough to
totally erase the events of the last couple of days
but it was something. We took off-road tracks, gravel
roads and rode into village dead-ends as the locals
looked on first questioningly, then knowingly as we
passed them a second time in the opposite direction.
We had fun for much of the day before our need for
fuel and cash forced us back onto the bigger roads
again.
We stopped that night in Caracal. A kindly man
approached to ask us if he could help as we
searched for a hotel. He was the first person who
had spoken to us of his own volition in three full
days. He directed us to a hotel and followed us
round to it. We chatted for a while and he invited us
to his house after we checked in to the hotel. I’m
saddened to say
that I had no more to give at that point and we
declined the offer.
We passed two days at that hotel. An unusually
decorated building; dark mahogany everywhere with
rich carpets and oil painting replicas adorning the
floors and walls. The suits of armour were a
surprising touch and topped off the feel of an old
Scottish castle. It was as far as it could get from what
I’d expected to find this far from home. But then,
Romania had kept us almost constantly off-balance
so it seemed to somehow fit. As it turned out we
found a little more familiarity with a group of US
engineers staying there, one of whom was a biker. He
was a generous-minded person, with a similar
outlook on life and after the stresses of the previous
few days, time spent with him was a tonic we were
only too happy to receive. We exchanged
experiences, stories and lessons learned and he
generously imparted a small piece of wisdom once
given to him: flexible is too rigid, you must be fluid
and flow. It suited our situation then and has fitted
many since. It’s become a little mantra of ours to
aspire to now.