Still walking in Maramures - statistics about horse and carts!

We were on the fourth day of walking and every day I had been expecting to get a lift from a horse and cart. Unfortunately, it just happened that we didn't find one going in the right direction. On this morning we were walking along the Sas valley through Botiza village to end at its centre and then start our walk over the hill. It is a 3 km walk along the road and I said again "This is the time I wish a horse and cart would appear". I had said the same when we were walking between Budesti and Sarbi and again between Hoteni and Breb and between Poienile Izei and Botiza.

So, I came to the conclusion that there are fewer horse and carts than before, because in all these days we hadn't managed to hitch a ride. Simon replied "You might be right, but mathematically we haven't got enough evidence to show that. And also, just because we have spent so long waiting for a horse and cart to come along already doesn't make it more likely that we will catch one today"

Ha! After a few minutes a man leading a horse and cart came out of his yard and started off in our direction. I called and asked him if he would wait for us. He replied that he was more than happy to give us a ride. He had his wife by his side and they were both going to the fields for hay.

In the centre of the village we stopped for two more women hitchhiking to Sieu. I am sure they were waiting for a car, but hey, a wagon will do! We had such a good laugh with the four of us squashed in the back of the cart!

Break the Rules!

After two days of strenuous walks a relaxing, visiting day is most welcome. In the first wooden church we went to, which is one of the eight in Maramures that have been designated Unesco heritage sites, the priest opened up for us. He is not usually very chatty, but today I asked him some questions and he seemed happy to answer them. We spoke about the rugs in the church and I realized how gentle and calm he is.

Simon asked if he knew what his t-shirt said. He had no idea, and I assumed it was probably a gift. I hadn't looked earlier, but we all started to laugh when I explained to him that it said "Break the Rules". Not a traditional message for a priest to give.

Walking in Maramures - Creasta Cocosului

The next day we climbed Gutai mountain otherwise known as “Creasta Cocosului” (The Rooster’s Crest). Ok, so, I have to be honest and say I didn’t climb to the absolute top of the rock. Being pregnant I thought it would be too much effort for me and I waited at the bottom. However, I taught Simon to say: “Imi faceti o poza, va rog” (Can I have a picture please!) to make sure he had a photo of himself on the top!
Anyway, climbing to the top is not as challenging as getting back home again. It is a long way just to Breb and for a couple of hours you can not even see the village. The blueberry season was almost gone (I found only a handful), the blackberries were all done and the hazelnuts trees were everywhere, but empty. I found 5 hazelnuts though which we very much enjoyed! This year was not a good season for hazelnuts again!
After 3 hours walking downhill towards Breb, we decided to be brave again and try a shortcut across to to our village, Hoteni. So, heading for the church spire we crossed over the fields and started our adventure. At the bottom of the valley I thought that there was a stream, but it turned out to be a river. Luckily, the stones in the river served us as bridge.
Again, the last hill before the village seemed the hardest and longest walk. Crossing un-mowed meadows, which were very difficult to walk through, we finally reached the mud road leadinging into the village.

Walking in Maramures - Hoteni Circular walk

We started our first walk from our homestay accommodation and headed towards Breb. The first person we met was an 80 year old lady feeding the pig in her yard. We had been attracted by the green beans hanging above the pig house to dry. I am sure she didn’t understand why we took a picture of them! In a few minutes chat I found out that she is on her second marriage and followed this husband after he promised her land and fortune. But now he is sick in bed and she is looking after him. They have no children, but a niece is taking care of them.

I really enjoyed the walk as I took many shortcuts I have not done before. In Budesti, we took a back street between houses and gardens to avoid the tarmac road, and then later, in Sarbi, I wanted to take a shortcut over the hill avoiding Ocna Sugatag.Haiduc was following us (our host’s dog) and I want to keep him out of the road, as he seemed to tired to move out of the way of the cars!

At that time in the afternoon, there was nobody on the road in the village, so I made a visit to my old friends – the family of the hat maker. The hat maker sadly and suddenly passed away a few years ago, but I know the family very well. I found out that the son, Ionuc (that makes the father so proud in the past) is studying now in Germany. He has finished his first year and he will soon go back. He spoke fluent English with us and walked a while to show us the path. At least then we had a path. For the last bit I decided to go over the hill toward Hoteni, where we were stopping. Unfortunately, there is no path there and so we had to make our own.. Fortunately,, at this moment Haiduc seemed to wake up and lead us. He must have recognized where we were and decided to walk ahead of us to show us the way..

We passed through overgrown bushes, crossed a dry stream and slogged our way up an endless hill. That last hill before the village seemed the longest one: not steep, but very, very long.
We ended our walk in somebody’s garden and a very old lady was kneeling down to break a pile of walnuts. We came from behind her and she couldn’t see us. I said “Buna ziua!” (Good afternoon) and she replied: “Eu nu graiesc domneste!” (very hard to translate… but something like I don’t speak an upper class language). But we perfectly understand each other in good Romanian and I ask permission to pass her yard and to continue my way back home. Her expression stuck in my head and I had to ask Voichita what the lady meant to say. She thought that the old woman was worried that as she speaks only in the Maramures peasant language that I may not understand her!! I found that funny!