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- Good morning in Brașov. A seven-centimetre stag beetle sunbathes on the arcade of the Catherine’s Gate.
- The main maternity hospital of the city since 1973 (before that it was a medical college).
- The Black Tower of the 15th century (modestly indicated under the loopholes) isn’t that black now, but it once burned, too, and this isn’t forgotten.
- A sax guy has settled near the tower and methodically asks passers-by where they are from.
- Apollonia Cultural Centre.
- The Franciscan Church was built three centuries ago as part of the Franciscan monastery (little remained of it by that time).
- One of the monastery walls.
- A Brașov man crosses himself without waiting for the thunder.
- After lunch, I took a bus with a bicycle trailer to the picturesque ski resort of Poiana Brașov.
- I tramp to the cable car past the circus on wheels.
- The Church of St. John the Baptist is younger than me, but built in the Maramureș style to sell souvenirs to gullible tourists.
- Aurelius Spa also knows how to present itself.
- A creepy sign of the Escalade Hotel. Don’t go climbing, kids, you’ll end up badly.
- Ascending in a Coca-Cola cabin past an indecently geometric reservoir.
- A hotel-restaurant just below the cable cars. The views from windows are surely stunning, but I foresee difficulties with the infrastructure.
- There are still about a hundred metres to the top.
- Whatever they use to get here.
- There’s a suspicion that a metre column at the top of the Postăvarul Massif (1799 m) was installed for the sake of rounding.
- Let’s look back at the path we’ve travelled.
- Let’s enjoy the endless spaces.
- And then let’s tramp down, stumbling over the “No access” signs. (Beg pardon, but where to?)
- Making my way through dense forest to Peştera de Lapte (the Milk Cave).
- You should notice the entrance somehow. If it weren’t for the sign, I’d still be looking for it.
- It’s polar cold, dank damp and pitch dark inside. The little bright spot in the centre is the very entrance.
- Geological layers. Watch your head.
- I have no idea who was milked in this Milk Cave, but I’d better go.
- These strawberries did not bloom for me.
- A dung beetle is a relative of the sacred scarab, by the way. Show some respect.
- Sunset rocks.
- Carpathian pastoral.