Skip to main content

Cluj-Napoca: Proof that friends can be found anywhere, and that I still love polenta.


Last Monday, October 5

View on the way to Cluj
My alarm goes off at at 5:45am, and I ready myself for my longest train ride in Eastern Europe to date. Six hours barreling through western Romania into Northern Transylvania, arriving at Cluj-Napoca in the early afternoon. What could be bad about that?

It turns out, nothing, save for the moment I allow myself to leave the carriage to go to the bathroom, and find myself in a developing country, smells and sights included. I resolve to limit my water-drinking on travel days from now on. For those of you who know I have a constant sidekick in my water bottle, this is easier said than done.

However, I arrive in Cluj on time and relatively unscathed. Lucia, my CS host, patiently guides me  over the phone from station to bus to bus stop to apartment, and before I know it I’m in her living room, drinking coffee (my first of the day! how did I survive this long?) and chatting about couchsurfing, international politics, and freelancing. Lucia herself has been a freelance writer for many years, working though a website to connect with clients across the world. She maintains a moderate income and flexible schedule, and enjoys the constant learning aspect of her job. She’s fairly new to Couchsurfing, and loves the idea of travelers coming to her and sharing their experiences. I think it’s inspired her to do some traveling of her own :)
Park in Cluj



With my CS host Lucia











I was curious about the Lucia’s work, and she told me one of her previous Couchsurfers is a writer for Trip 101, a newer website that employs freelancers to write small articles about their travels. The next day, while Lucia was working, I settled down in a coffee shop for a bit, to work on my blog and some other travel logistics. I looked into Trip101 more, and applied to be a writer. The pay is modest, but if it gives me an opportunity to build my writing skills and find a wider audience, then why not?


The day I arrived in Cluj was the night of the aforementioned Pink Martini concert. It was my fifth time seeing them, and my first time meeting them. They played my favorite song, “Hang on Little Tomato,” which I’ve never heard live. Sitting at the concert and listening to them, like I had done so many times in the U.S., made me feel almost like I was at home. It was the first time I've had that feeling since starting my travels, and I can't imagine it will happen very often. I waited around after the show to chat, hoping there would be less people than if I were in the states. I was right, and had a brief but pleasant conversation with the pianist and lead singer. It was incredibly rewarding, fortunately, because that ticket would be my largest purchase (and about a fifth of my expenses) during my time in Romania.


Glorious polenta
Besides talking with Lucia and the concert, the highlight of Cluj was all the cooking Lucia let me do. Namely, by buying a kilo of mamaliga (which came out to about 90 cents) and allowing me to cook a giant pot of it on the stove for an hour and a half. The result was a creamy, warm, comforting mass of deliciousness. I hadn’t cooked polenta since I left the states, though I ate it several times in Italy. Lucia couldn’t get over how excited I was about it. It’s just polenta, right? Nope. It’s my hands down favorite comfort food, and it felt so good to make some again. We had slices of polenta with eggs for breakfast, and for lunch I reconstituted it down to its porridge-like form, and ate it with eggs again.

Overall, Cluj was a great place to visit for a few days. I didn't feel much like a tourist here, owing to how casual I felt with Lucia, almost like I was staying with a good friend. We walked through the city a fair amount, but I also spent a lot of time sitting in coffee shops and working, be it on my blog, on my travel, or for the application for Trip101. This felt weird to me, as for the last week I was up and about and visiting things constantly, but it also made me realize that I need this down time to ground myself and relax a bit. Lastly, the concert with Pink Martini and cooking with Lucia made me realize that it's possible to make someplace feel like home, even just for a fleeting moment.

I've been running behind on my updates, so tomorrow I'll try to crank out another about more of my time in Transylvania. Today, I am in Bucharest, and I need to buy a coat!

Comments

  1. Thank you, Sophie, for the big dose of deliciousness. I will definitely think of you every time I'll eat it again. :) And the old stuff left behind just made some room for the new coat. Could be filed under "#wisdomfromtheroad"... :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My farmstay in Hotnitsa, Bulgaria: A chance to be vegan, getting back on a bike, plus a recipe from yours truly!

“Here,” he said, handing me a pair of latex gloves. “You might need these.” It’s my first night on the organic farm in Hotnitsa, Bulgaria , and my host Rodo is warning me of the spiciness of the chili peppers he gave me. “Seriously, don’t touch your eyes or nose after you handle them. They’re dangerous.” Part of the farm on a foggy morning Earlier that day, Rodo gave me a tour of the farm, stopping ever so often to pile more veggies into my arms. Green beans, zucchini, tomatoes, cabbage, onions, and the aforementioned chilies , Rodo’s specialty. Rodo, originally from France, has been in Hotnitsa since about 2008. A former investment banker, he gave up consulting and bought a homestead in a small village outside of Veliko Tarnovo. He grows strictly organic, sells his produce in markets, and does his best to give back to the land. Average day on the farm I met Rodo online through Workaway , an organization that connections volunteers with hosts worldwide. In exchan

Musings/complaints about traveling alone, the frustration of missed connections, and the constant draw of that Northern Star

In an unexpected and impulsive fashion, I booked a round trip flight from Zagreb to Minneapolis three weeks ago. (I'm inserting nature-y pictures of my recent time in Slovenia and Croatia to break up monotony of the text.) Two hours prior, I was having dinner with my mom in a pizzeria in Rome on our second to last night together. When our eggplant, olive, and mozzarella pie arrived, I could only look at it. Anxiety was brewing in the pit of my stomach, and I had lost my appetite. Travel anxiety has always been a part of my life. Stressed out LRT rides to the airport, waking up multiple times in the night after forgetting to pack something, finally exhaling when getting on the plane were all part of my experience living away from my parent's house. Arboretum in Slovenia Now, it's gotten a little better- I don't have to buy a lot of bus/train tickets ahead of time, and just show up a little before the departure time. Packing my backpack has become a mech