Drumul Național

Drumul Național means The National Road. It's a highway, but if, when you think of a highway, you imagine something like the 101 or even Interstate 5, you're mistaken.
Imagine something more like Soquel Drive, except that it spans the country and everyone uses it, from long-haul semis to horses and wagons loaded with hay and children. Even bicyclists and the occasional elderly person bopping about on a motorized scooter can be found on the National Roads.
For old time Zike-Bike readers, you understand exactly what I'm talking about. For new readers, you might not believe me and in that case, I refer you to this post, this one, and even this one if you feel you need an unbiased view.
The DN1 is what we take from Făgăraș to Brașov and back. It's an important road, connecting Bucharest with the major cities throughout the Northwest of the country. As you can probably guess, these roads, national though they may be, essential though they most certainly are, do not come without their challenges. They contain a great deal of signage regarding when passing is and is not allowed (which many drivers disregard), and which lane in the roundabout will take you to your destination, but scant other information is given. For example, if you're a semi hauling a 90-foot load, you might find it useful to know if the curves on the DN1 between Brașov and Făgăraș are able to accommodate your trailer, but this information you will not find. The best course of action, for you as the driver of a 90-foot trailer, is to go forth and hope for the best. Everything will be fine until you round the curve which can only accommodate an 89-foot trailer.
Then you're stuck.
One thing you, dear American reader, must understand about Romanians is that they like to stare, which is to say, they stare as often as they discuss politics, drink pălincă, or watch football. Staring is something of a national pastime. So an incident with the 90-foot trailer on the DN1 is a perfect opportunity for staring, but at a certain point, it becomes obvious that this incident directly involves them as they are behind said 90-foot trailer which means they're stuck as well. So long as the trailer doesn't move, no one else does. And traffic is piling up. (As an aside, please don't assume one should wait for the arrival of the Highway Patrol, it does not exist in Romania and waiting for them will get you nowhere, especially not off the DN1).
What ensues is a great deal of brainstorming, heaving, hauling, and shouting, and, after a couple of back tires are blown, the 90-foot trailer is set free. There is cheering and some praising of God while making the sign of the cross ("thanks be to God, we're saved!") and the general elation one imagines one would feel after liberating a beached whale, especially if your car was under the whale.
As we drove away, Mihai and I realized that although we'd come from a very delicious and filling lunch in Brașov, we would have been in trouble if we'd been stuck for too much longer. Since we'll be traveling the DN1 between Făgăraș and Brașov fairly regularly, we decided that we need an emergency kit in the car, including water, snacks, and some kind of receptacle for me to pee in, should it be necessary.
We're going to call our stash of emergency supplies: the No-go Bag.

As for the rest of our week, we've spent it exploring the local bakeries, butchers, and cheese makers, and making regular trips to the open market at the piață in Făgăraș.

We had a couple of rainy days which made for some lovely evenings. I do love watching the sky here.

On Monday we'll be taking the train to Contanța and hopefully by next week's post I will be able to confirm that we are in possession of our possessions once again.
In the meantime, I hope you're also enjoying safe roads, fresh produce, and lovely evenings, wherever you are.
Be well.