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