the short week end

So, it seams that there was a different, more comprehensive (hence interesting) account of one of our sorties. The text belongs to Les.

"Last Friday I met some friends for supper at 21:30 in an Irish Bar (of all things) in Bucharest, my Hungarian friends Attila and his wife Betty, my English colleagues, Rob, Alex and Ian, a young American chap I know then some friends from one of our competitors, it’s a close-knit business community here. Anyway, we finished eating at about 23:30 and the girls from EFG (the competition) ‘kidnapped’ us in their Mercedes and took us to a night club in deepest, darkest Bucharest. I should really have gone home, as I’d arranged with Mihai and Muller that they would collect me in the morning to go up into the mountains hiking, at 08:00… the night ended-up finishing just after 05:00 Saturday morning and we got a cab back to Herastrau, the area I live in, North of Bucharest. Got to sleep just after 05:30 then Mihai and Muller collected me just before 09:00 the same day. We then collected Maclean (the young American who was out partying with me) and we cruised up into Bucegi, near Saniai in the Prahova valley, deep in the Carpathian mountain range, in his SUV, arriving in the mountains late morning.
We got cash, and then jumped into a cable car for the trip to the summit of a local peak – about 9,000ft up! As we arrived at the top a different world awaited us, pure white, fog all around, and very, very cold. The phrase, bitter cold, does not justify the feeling.


I’d never experienced anything like it, but our local guides seemed confident, so we prepared our clothing and started the trek – after three hours sleep the night before, and a little too much to drink I confess, we began our adventure. The ‘guides’ pointed in the general direction and we headed off into the strangest landscape I’ve ever seen, ice cold wind tears any heat it can find from your flesh, fingers chill as soon as they come out of your gloves, face hardens and any moisture freezes in seconds. We had a false start as there were no tracks to follow, which didn’t do much for my hung-over confidence, but I trust the guys, so onwards we went. The snow soon crept into my boots, making the blood chill in my feet – I quickly stopped and attached the gaiters they’d advised me to buy. Then we found a way-marker pole and I sussed how to navigate – in a down direction watching out for avalanche-snow and precipices. Scary stuff, but very exciting and an excellent way to clear ones’ head.


We soon met a local climber who appeared to know the area, the local chaps exchanged navigation information and we carried on. I’ll spare you the details; needless to say we eventually arrived at a hotel half-way down the mountain – only to find a film crew making an amateur movie. We sat next to the actors drinking hot coffee to thaw out and made a few new friends. Then we said our goodbye’s and headed for the place we’d planned (but not booked) to stay in. It’s a pension, a kind of hikers’ guest house. As we arrived, a bunch of Romanian girls started talking with us and our American friend thinks he met the love of his life….as least until he sobered-up a little! We ate a hot, hearty meal then slept for an hour.


At about 20:30 we went back down from our room (complete with open, furnace-type fire) to the bar/lounge area to eat and we’re invited to an outside BBQ by our new friends. Maclean got persuaded to sledge down the hill by his new friend, while we watched and winced as he fell into the ice-cold snow. We ate and drank until the early hours (again) before a small ‘room-party’ finished off the alcohol and our hosts complained about the noise.


Got up Sunday morning, had breakfast and the owner of the pension advised that our route off the mountain was not achievable, winds were too high and we simply couldn’t get back. A few negotiations took place resulting in a hand-gun toting local arriving in a very dodgy old Lada four by four and agreeing to take us to a village on the main road, near the bottom of the mountain. Well, it seemed the only option to get back, so four grown men crammed into this vehicle which was really designed for two. We then trundled off down snow-covered tracks, slipping left and right, but moving none the less.
We soon met a few people from the night before, their Audi saloon car unable to climb any hills even with snow chains. Our new guide (with the gun, turned out to be a local policeman) helped them to move then we carried on. The conditions were quite scary with our friend sliding the Lada across the rutted snow inches from unyielding rock faces, sometimes with a 100ft drop into an icy lake the other side – we all caught our breaths a few times. On the way, we passed through another outdoor film set, this time much more professional with generators and lights etc. Cars were littering the tracks, stuck in the snow, but our new friend and his trusty Lada kept moving – most of the time. We had to stop and change the tyre at one point for puncture, and the suspension kept bottoming-out due the weight of five grown men on board (including the driver).

We persevered though and eventually arrived at the place we had left Mullers’ nice, comfortable, warm, air-conditioned SUV, the relief was palpable for all of us. We then ate a delicious meal, if expensive by local standards, in a restaurant and then we sped back to Bucharest tired, satisfied and alive. Another adventure for the record, and a couple of photos are on my facebook profile for you. "