And in what could be considered perhaps the biggest news of all from my jaunts abroad, there is a new member of the Bogdan family! No, not me, silly—David’s sister’s boyfriend proposed at the end of the trip, in the same park where David’s parents had wandered as young lovers. Ah, how romantic.

Not that several elderly people weren’t trying to marry me off… it was a common inquiry throughout our travels, in addition to the aforementioned encounter with David’s Hungarian aunt.

I must say that the Bogdans plus significant others got along quite well for our ten days on the road together. Despite spending substantial amounts of time in close quarters, we managed to keep rather felicitous company. In fact, our harrowing road trip experiences bonded us together….

First, let me say that we probably had one of the best drivers in Eastern Europe, in the person of David’s mother’s cousin Miki. No one can ease a minibus off the side of a mountain like that man. Still, while having complete trust in Miki’s driving skills, I must confess that it was a bit unnerving to watch him dodge a horse-drawn cart on one side while squeezing by oncoming traffic on the other at 45 mph. It was a miracle that we made it out of the country without running down a goat or small child. Actually, we passed up the opportunity to hit several cows, wending their way home one evening on the main road.

Next, for those of you who know of my hypocondriatic obsession with sanitary restroom conditions, Romania presented quite a challenge. I managed to avoid using an outhouse, but I would have rather done that than encounter the public restroom at one castle. After paying to use it, we walked in to discover that there were no toilets—just a hole in the ground and a place to put your feet while you squatted. My male readers may not understand my consternation, but I’m sorry—unless you’re in the woods using maple leaves as toilet paper, women do not squat (you can tell I didn’t go camping much as a child). I just couldn’t do it, even if not doing it violated my thrifty streak over the fee we’d paid to pee.

And I didn’t quite understand the obsession with chocolate on the trip. One of the members of our merry little band was a chocolate lover, so one day we went to Metro (the German equivalent of Costco) and bought European chocolate in bulk. We came out of the store loaded down with bulk packages of Toblerone, Milka, and several other brands of premium chocolate. The problem was that we didn’t eat it. So now I’m back here in the States, loaded down with several bars of Milka Wildberry Yougurt. Chocolate, anyone??? It is, I was told by CoCo co-moderator Melissa McNair, National Chocolate Day today.

Well, I think that’s about it as far as my general roadtripping experiences, and probably for most of my Romanian trip stories. On a more somber note, I just read about the London bombings. I don’t really have anything to say today except to express my sadness. Maybe tomorrow.

“But I, O Lord, cry out to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you. O Lord, why do you cast me off? Why do you hide your face from me?” --Psalm 88:13-14

Kelsey