Getting there.

I left Poland on a very good note. I love Poland. As soon as the plane took off I felt homesick, or whatever it's called when you miss a place that feels like home. I like everything about Poland. The country is incredibly gorgeous. I will someday go back and see the rest. I didn't have a chance to see the Baltic sea and the fishing villages that make up the coast. I would have absolutely gone had I known that is where my gggg-grandfather was from. His sons biography called it Pomerania, a country later consumed by Poland (funny story about that, but I'll save that one). At the end of the Polish coast is a national park, recommended, although I don't remember why. I only saw Greater Poland on the train. It's flat but bright and the towns sprout up around churches like desert oases in a desert of wildflowers. I'd like to go back and tour around the smaller towns and the bigger towns of Greater Poland, especially Torun. I saw the southwest mountains, and my experience was so good that I decided to forego the Tatras in the south. I just saw a painting of a lake in the Polish Tatras hanging up in the Hungarian National Museum. I suppose the painter was Hungarian but I didn't bother to look. I spent about thirty minutes staring at that lake. I'm definitely going back, and next time with a full pack ready for plenty of time outdoors. I'm sure I can drag one of my mountain loving friends along with me. And maybe next time I'll take it easy on myself and enjoy the lakeside resorts in the northeast. If you can't tell, I still miss Poland and probably always will. I may be only one thirty-second Polish, but when I'm there the other thirty one parts don't seem so important.

So I missed Poland on the plane to Budapest. I flew into Budapest since to fly to Bucharest I would have had to change planes in Budapest anyway, and it didn't make much sense since my destination was halfway between the two cities. Budapest, at least my first time through, was a blur of train stations, subway tunnels and a mall food court. Two hours after my plane touched down I had a ticket in hand, and my friend in Romania had reserved a room for me at the border town of Oradea. I couldn't make the whole trip tonight but I could at least get to Romania. For dinner I wandered to the shopping center near the train station. I passed the McDonalds and found the food court. For a moment I thought I found salvation at the restaurant 'Thai Food.' Unfortunately the cuisine was chinese and so was the staff. As a consequence of that, when I got to my hotel in Oradea at midnight, the mini-bar looked a bit more like a buffet to my hungry stomach. That morning I struck up a conversation with the other American at breakfast. We both came in on the same train but the taxi drivers set up a screen and got us for separate fares. She beat me to the hotel but I had the reservation. She had to pay for a double. It wasn't until after we parted that the thought of splitting the difference came into my head. Strange how it's fair to beat someone to the cheap seats even if I have the home field advantage. We spent about an hour trying to find the train station and then headed off to Cluj. Someone had told her she should visit that town. I had a friend waiting for me there.

I usually don't start up conversations with other travels. I am prone to say never but I think there were a few failed attempts in the past. But this time I decided that anyone who shows up in Romania at a quarter till midnight must be a bit less of a tourist and a bit more of a tourist. I don't remember her name, but I have a good excuse which I'll get to, but my apologies if she remembers mine and finds this entry. She's nurse who by some means found herself without a job and decided to take a trip. After returning, she decided she was not ready to pick up where she left off and took another trip. I think this is her third go around. She sold her house and at 32 currently lives with her parents to save up for trips. I bet I would've done the same had I only planned for a few months.

There was a surprise waiting for me at the train station. As soon as I got in the station I split off from my travel companion to use the restroom. When I finished I went to the phone to call Andreea. I had tried to call her this morning to tell her when my train got in but no one answered. Before anyone picked up I saw her outside walking towards the entrance. I also saw she was with someone, her friend, my friend, my best friend, my best friend who I had not seen since she dropped me off at the airport, my best friend who keeps me going with her constant e-mail, my best friend who is supposedly at some conference for a week before starting summer school, my best friend who didn't tell me she was coming here, my best friend who has been listening to me lament about how I won't see her for nine months and then doing little to console me because she knew better. I ran out the door. I think I just dropped the receiver. I know I left the phone card in the machine, and I'm sure I would've forgotten more if all of it wasn't strapped to my body. If you don't already know, my best friend is Christine. She's pretty important to me. I met her during a brief relapse into acting. I went back to the stage to keep myself sane at school, but instead I realized it was time to leave. Acting is not really where my heart is, but neither is computer science. Christine has her heart in the theater, and after seeing her perform I was convinced that acting was not for me; I'd prefer to watch her from the audience. She helped motivate me to leave school, although I don't think she motivated me to take on another computer related job. But when I started teaching she definitely took on quite a burden. If it wasn't for her shoulder to cry on I would've probably been crippled by the end of the semester. I did develop kidney stones, but I think I got off easy given the stress I put my body through. Christine helped me keep my head on tight and forced me to exhale whenever my face turned blue. She also engineered my trip. It started as an interesting thought to transform two months in Morocco to a year around the world. After her enthusiatic response to my proposal I hung up the phone and called my mom to ask permission. My mom as well was so excited that she didn't realize for almost an hour that the reason I was calling was that I would miss her wedding. My mom and Christine didn't mind sending me off for a year. Without their support I'd be a bit lost. And there she was at the train station in Cluj. My best friend. I may have been home sick on the plane, but that was all over in a second. Best friend's are what makes a place home anyway.

Once the initial shock was over I noticed my surroundings. I gave Andreea a hug and said hello. My travel companion came to say goodbye and we swapped names. She could've given me the winning lottery numbers and I wouldn't have paid any attention. Andreea hired a cab and the three of us motored away to Andreea's aunt's house. I was diagnosed as malnourished by Aunt Lucii who prescribed four meals daily, and no fewer than three courses at any one sitting.