Ruse, Bulgaria
Not a taxi in sight as we left the train station. Not that I had any cash on me anyway. After hitting an ATM and practically jumping in front of a few taxis who just kept driving, we finally found one sitting in his car, door open, eating pizza with talk radio blaring. I showed him my phone which displayed directions to a bike repair shop located by our Airbnb. I pulled my phone back twice and he attempted a take twice but it was no use. The old man knew the neighborhood but just needed some lookin' time. Sure enough, he handed my now finger lickin' greasy phone back to me and we loaded up and took off. He spoke of Arnold Schwarzenegger when we mentioned where we were from. In between grumbles and laughs and a blasting radio, I made out, "damn communist, Pontiac's, and Biden." But he drove us to the exact spot on the map I showed him. I gave him a little extra tip for disrupting his lunch.
The directions to our Airbnb were off by two streets. I asked the bike repair owner if he knew where the place was. Actually I pulled my mom's go to plan b - shove a phone in someone's face and ask huh with my hands? It worked, she's still teaching me after all these years.
From the fourth floor our corner balcony provided a view not only of the old neighborhood but mainly the impressive Danube with Romania as a backdrop. A small one way street, railroad track, walking path, and river boats-turned restaurants were in-between our place and the river. Looking towards town to the right, one of our new neighbors pounded small spikes into logs and his nemesis next door beat dried cement off a mixer with pliers. This was a war not of words but of precision pings and pangs. Their subtle art of passive aggression played on and on. Pretty sure this battle was for no other reason than to piss each other off. Then the log splitter guy started pounding a rusted axe-head down into a tree branch he fashioned into a handle. This was warfare on a whole new level.
I only saw them talk to each other once. That was when they both came out when loud motorcycles were coming down the street, “their street”. One stood in the middle of the street racing to beat the other neighbor to it. He held his hands up telling them to slow down and then making a you're crazy hand sign by circling his forefinger around his ear. I heard the motorcycle rev up and he jumped out of the way as it passed. He started yelling who knows what and his neighbor joined in. Before they knew it, the one thing they had in common, hatred of speeders/ loudness from others was over. The hatred turned back to each other. They looked each other up and down, shook their heads then parted ways. I wondered how long this had been going on?
I didn't question it long and turned my gaze back to the river. Something about watching the boats, birds and clouds all intermixing with the water slows the grass growing beneath my feet. It feels nice to stop for a bit. Listen to the world, at least this little window of it, even if I can't understand a word spoken.
The next day was spent doing more of just that, relaxing. This wasn't the Danube on postcards, this was a working port that connects Ruse to Giurgiu, Romania, a land full of mud flats and marshes - and cranes, the mechanical kind not the flying ones. It was less than idyllic but provided serenity and reflected a slower pace than the one we've been traveling since we started.
The next few days we explored Ruse in all its "not having to pack up and leave every other day" glory. But alas the time had come. Tomorrow we were leaving and I still couldn't nail down a ride for the morning. Had a couple of leads but set the alarm for extra walking time just in case.
Woke up around 4:30 and sure enough, no taxi waiting. Tried the app, nothing. Tried calling, nothing. By 4:50 we took off for our morning trek back to the train station. The fastest route took us through the monument of liberty park. The statue originally had "Tsar Liberator", Alexander II on it but it was replaced by Lady Liberty. The two lions at her base looked as if they just kept a watchful eye all night, now able to sleep with the sun breaking through the black unknown dangers.
As seen with sweat dripping in your eyes in the way too early morning light.
About half way there, I noticed a half sleeping taxi driver and asked how much. I agreed and didn't mind that he was too tired to open the trunk, right there with you buddy. Just drive. I paid him the $2 and headed towards the mostly empty station. Only two benches didn't have people sleeping on them. Seemed eerily quiet for a train station. Snoring and the occasional moan filled the marble and tile room, a large room which reflected Ruse's glory days, not necessarily its function today. It had free wifi, security and was clean. As daylight approached, we headed upstairs to the platform and were treated to a beautiful sunrise. Made the early morning rising well worth the sweat.
Off to Varna and the Black Sea, finally.
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