Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

August 2017 – September 2023

Preliminaries

Short time after I finished with my Father’s memorial services, and I was settling into my new life as an orphan, Mr. Mișu (a Danube Delta aficionado) called me and threw me a curve, inviting me in a Once In A Lifetime Trip, and offered to pick me up (metaphorically speaking because I was in my period of maximum plumpness, and I could barely carry myself, let alone someone else to carry me) in his car and in his boat.

I politely said, as my parents taught me, “Thank you very much, I’m coming,” packed a small backpack, raided my father’s wine collection, stocked up thoroughly (I rushed and even took some sweet wines to make spritzers with them, shame on me, beginner’s mistake), called a taxi, and with my eyes blurred from the sweat dripping all over me (no, I wasn’t crying, it was so hot, I was sweating in places I didn’t even know I had) and staring at the thermometer in the little park across the street from the apartment building, I set out for what indeed turned out to be a unique experience. (Fast forward to 2023, in Phoenix, we had a whole month of 46℃ temperature—117℉—it became quite the norm).

#OnceInALifetimeExperience

Six days from south to north, and back, zigzagging and zagzigging, covering about 200 kilometers (less than 150 miles) at a maximum speed of 10 kilometers per hour (that’s as fast as the boat could go). During these days, at least three times Old Man Popescu (from up there, from above) helped us get out of trouble, in a world that can be summed up by boats, reeds, water lilies, water, birds, and many desperate people expertly trying to fish.

There couldn’t be a dumber description because the Danube Delta is a state of mind; those so-called desperate people are true men’s men returning to their primal state, of hunters and fishermen and food providers for their tribe. It’s a place where you can talk to yourself and not lie (to the same self), a place to seek the end of the world and find it, a place to laugh and cry, with friends or alone, where beer belly contests are held (without anyone judging you), where if you drink three beers in five minutes and belch so badly that you’re making mini tsunamis, it seems normal to everyone, where you’re treated with ancient herbs (when your sensitive American stomach rebels), and where food is cooked on a wood stove. Because, to visit the Danube Delta is, as my friend Mișu says, #OnceInALifetimeExperience.

Day 1: Bucharest – Tamarin Guesthouse

Bucharest, Snagov, Dunavățu de Jos, Lipovenilor Canal, Dranov Canal, old Saint George Branch, main Saint George Branch, upstream, Old Danube up to Uzlina, stayed at Mr. Zorică’s, at Tamarin Guesthouse, which Mișu briefly left in the dark by turning on the air conditioning because he was feeling hot and he thought that the little sign that said “Do Not Turn On the Air Conditioning” on the air conditioning unit was just for show. It wasn’t.

Ah, the memories of Mișu! “…we were drenched in sweat, struggling to launch the boat and cramming it with all our cargo from the car. The sight of our distress still makes me chuckle! Hahaha! Poor, poor us, caught in the throes of desperation. And your face… hahaha.”

Now, I must say, Mișu wasn’t exactly jumping with excitement, either (I found this expression, I have to leave it here – as thrilled as a sloth on caffeine). Due to severe drought and the very low water levels of the Danube, we couldn’t launch the boat where he initially planned to. So, we had to go several extra tens of kilometers to a deeper spot, which added a few more hours to our already long and exhausting journey from the first day.

Instead of individual photo captioning:

The green pool at Tamarin (off-season, he claimed, like we believed him, it was August, after all), the local who brought a sunken boat back to the surface while giving me a nasty look, as if to say, “Why are you taking pictures while I’m working?” I just didn’t have it in my heart to explain to him that this is the ultimate pleasure: to watch someone work while you do nothing.

Bottom left, due to drought, water were levels unusually low; normally, the water reached up to the pontoon. Captain Mișu had his ear constantly tuned to the Danube’s water levels (on the radio), and Passenger Popescu was like a little (hmm, wishful thinking) ball, swaying and counterbalancing, left-right, front-back, left-right, front-back.

Speaking about watching someone work while you do nothing, Americans have discovered an even greater pleasure: watching beginners launch their boats into the lake. They make movies and place bets, and it’s a real free comedy show. When someone gets into the lake pick-up truck first with the boat still attached, it’s absolute mayhem.

Day 2: Tamarin Guesthouse – Mila 23

We went North onto Lake Isacu Mic (also called Isăcel), and we got stuck for a bit. The propeller made a harsh noise, and we froze. I had to quickly move to the bow (like that dude from Titanic, sharing his happiness with the world “I’m the king blah blah blah”, I was also in front of the boat, yelling at Captain Misu “good enough, or do I bend more, like I’m barfing?”) We safely crossed Lake Isacu Mare, the Isacu Canal, turned right onto the Litcov Canal, left onto the Caraorman Canal, exited into the Sulina branch, then onto Sulina Veche towards Mila 23. We passed by Mila 23 with contempt because it was too crowded with tourists, and we knew that Mr. Mateescu was waiting for us at his guesthouse with fresh fish and cold beer. We continued on the Vișina Canal, entered the Știpoc Canal, where we got seriously stuck under the astonished, but highly amused gaze of the locals who hadn’t seen a boat there since the canal was first opened for navigation (and then immediately abandoned because they said nobody could navigate it).

We managed to turn (with a lot of difficulty and a lot of Mișu’s skill, he was able to turn the boat “in place,” after he jumped in the water, pushing and pulling) back onto the Vișina Canal towards Mila 23, along with its tourists and everything. Suddenly, that touristy place wasn’t so bad anymore. We found accommodation (thanks to Petrică’s brother-in-law, a local who loved Misu’s boat and struck up a conversation, captain to captain) at the last minute (literally just before the night fell). We stayed at Petrică’s Guesthouse, where Mrs. Clava, his wife (Delta’s champion and expert in fish borscht—with a diploma to prove it, not only word of mouth), kindly served us some fresh fried fish with garlic sauce (mujdei) and polenta, as we were quite starved. Just starved, because when it came to thirst, Old Man Popescu took care of us with his vast collection of wines. We, the juniors, tried to make him proud of us and, to keep up with the tradition, we had brought a dozen bottles of seltzer, and I just don’t want to remember how much beer.

Below, some pictures from Mila 23, with narrow alleys serving as streets, with many cats, chickens, the most beautiful dog I ever saw, and many, many flowers.

Although Mișu had a very good and insanely smart professional camera, with an Auto button that almost had an option for crepes, absolutely idiot-proof, well, Passenger Popescu managed to ruin about 95% of the photos because he didn’t focus. Why? He himself can’t answer that question. Maybe it was because he was stressed. Or depressed. An “…ssed,” something like that.

So, the photos from this trip were taken in the same proportion, 95%, with an old but decent iPhone 5S, for beginners. It belonged to my dad, and I used it in his memory. I think he was laughing up there, and I could almost hear him saying, “Keep learning, kid, and open both your eyes!”

Description of the pictures below: Early in the morning, on the banks of the Danube, at Mila 23, tourists, fishermen, life.

Day 3: Mila 23 – At Mateescu’s Guesthouse

We cruised up the Eracle Canal, on Eracle’s Stream, and on Iacob’s Canal, all the way to Știpoc (well, the navigable canal this time, haha). We finally arrived and crashed at Mateescu’s place (he had been waiting for us since last night, but luckily he still had some fish on ice and some ice-cold beer ready to go, and man, he was so surprised when he found out we took the old route to Știpoc – city slickers, huh? But he was even more shocked when he heard that we managed to find our way out on our own!

The Mateescus were just leaving for a vacation and left us almost alone, only with Mr. Edy and his girlfriend, who were taking care of the resort and management while they were away. There were some noisy folks from Bucharest who were drinking non-stop (no, not us) and playing the national sport of backgammon, but the courtyard was big, and their noise got lost – nature won, again. Mrs. Mateescu, God keep her healthy, had a good laugh when she found out that we didn’t have any food (canned goods didn’t count), and she collected “leftovers” from the other tourists who were heading home and filled our fridge. Good to know: each trailer had a fridge, a large freezer, and several other refrigerated boxes in the yard, just in case you caught some really big fish.

Mateescu invented glamping

Instead of individual photo captioning, description:

Accommodation – air-conditioned trailers, separate beds, a shared big bathroom (for the whole guesthouse) with hot water, a kitchen with a propane stove and a wood stove, and all the necessary utensils.

Top right, the Saint Athanasius Hermitage. A place full of peace where we could meditate in some quietude. The Holy Fathers had a fountain with fresh, cold, and really, really good water… you would draw it yourself with a bucket and drink from the only metal cup attached with a chain. Being Americanized, I hesitated and looked for disposable cups. I can’t describe the laughter that ensued. Of course, nothing happened to me, not even after the third cup of water, drunk in one breath. I, too, hung the cup on the hook without washing it, not to ruin the good tradition.

From time to time, we would see a hurried and stealthy monk in Mateescu’s yard, heading for the huge beer fridge because monks are people too, and thirsty they get.

The two friends slept like logs, exhausted from the journey, wine, beer, fried fish, polenta, and garlic sauce. My mouth waters just thinking about it, and looking at the photos. I don’t know how they made that sauce; it’s the Delta’s secret, but it is really good. And if it seems that we ate fried fish at every meal, yes, we did. Nothing, repeat, nothing compares with fried fresh fish. Give me this at every meal here and I’m happy. But do not forget the garlic sauce, the ‘mujdei’.

The summer kitchen (actually, the only one because the resort is closed in the winter) where you can vaguely see Mr. Edy [in the photo], the one who made an amazing zacusca (avjar) over a wood fire, and where Mrs. Little Bee from Bucharest (who came on vacation with her husband and two of her husband’s friends, I think) cooked and washed dishes non-stop while the gentlemen played backgammon and consumed many bottles of wine while trying to catch fish. Mișu and I wondered how the lady could do so much work and if she ever stopped. On the second evening, Mrs. Little Bee went on strike, and the next morning, she took her team of fierce males and left in a whirlwind for Bucharest. She had had a wonderful vacation. (We don’t actually know her name, but she was like a diligent little bee, which is the Romanian highest compliment for a very diligent woman.)

Day 4: La Mateescu – Chilia Veche – La Mateescu

The Șipoc Canal, the Pardina Canal, and the Tătatru Canal all the way to the town of Chilia Veche. We strolled through the town, observing from a distance how Ukraine was polluting nature with its factories, showing complete disregard for European standards (of which they weren’t a part anyway, so they didn’t care about the aforementioned norms). We enjoyed a beer at the local tavern, startled the cockroaches under the ice cream freezer, and made a memorable visit to the extremely fragile and eerie latrine behind the establishment. We laughed like fools, choking on beer.

The Church of Saints Archangels Michael and Gabriel, the second tallest in Romania, with bullet traces from both World Wars, has the foundation laid in 1857.

It was a warm, sunny day, and we decided to stroll along the only main street in town. The street, unpaved and dusty, had a unique charm to it, almost like it had some stories to tell (and probably had). As we walked, we couldn’t help but notice a cloud of dust rapidly approaching in the distance. It turned out to be an old, yet resilient Dacia 1300, its engine roaring and its the body rattling.

Without skipping a beat, the Dacia sped past us, leaving behind a trail of swirling dust. As we watched the car disappearing into the distance, we couldn’t help but marvel at its solitary journey along the empty street (after so much beer we were getting philosophical). We decided to explore the surroundings a bit more – our wandering souls led us to the Church, that beautiful architectural gem standing proudly amidst the two world wars and fifty years of communism.

As we bid farewell to the Priest and left the Church, we couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. The passing of the car, the conversations, and the collective effort to restore the Church all painted a vivid picture of a town filled with stories, awaiting discovery. It was a reminder that even in the smallest of places, hidden tales lie in wait, ready to be unearthed by those willing to listen and learn. Mișu said it’s an almost Tarantinoesque place.

We stumbled upon a General Store, unreal in the way it looked and the merchandise it carried, with everything from rubber boots to some frozen beef steaks that had been frozen solid since the beginning of time and forgotten at the bottom of a freezer box. But it had a fantastic freshly baked bread. One of the saleswomen there was Mary, Mr. Edy’s girlfriend from Mateescu, a pretty blonde with a spectacular bosom that she didn’t hesitate to show, without ostentation, though. There was no need. When we told her where we were staying, she made a phone call, then said she would go with us, happy to spare Mr. Edy the trip. And we were glad that we could help. She was a young girl, just under twenty years, working in about three places: at the store, at Mateescu, and I can’t remember where else, as she had just told us that she was pregnant. We got emotional and wondered when she had the time for herself because she worked so hard. Her dream, and Edy’s, was to leave that place and open their own guesthouse. I hope God has helped her, and they have succeeded, because they really deserved it.

In Mateescu’s courtyard, the famous zacusca ingredients cooked over a wood fire. I got a bit wasted and I wanted to help, but I mostly got in their way while they were peeling the hot eggplants and roasted peppers. I think they also peeled tomatoes, but I don’t remember well. The final result, thought, was heavenly: of course all the veggies were from their own garden, the bread was fresh, it couldn’t get better than that.

As I mentioned before, I was very sad and quite drunk; my father had passed away, and I thought there was no greater sadness than being an orphan at the age of 54. Life, however, has shown me that it can get even worse, but let’s not anticipate that.

In the bottom row (of pictures), a small monk’s house from the monastery’s courtyard and some images from Mateescu’s courtyard.

Ziua 5: Mateescu’s Guesthouses – Tamarin Guesthouse

If I hadn’t missed so many pictures, I could show you a heron, the dumbest bird, as Mișu loves to say. As we approached it, it would fly, always ahead. Straight ahead. Seems that it was something very common because even though Mișu knew its habit, he couldn’t stop laughing and marveling at such a small brain.

Chilia’s Belt, the Știpoc Canal, Iacob’s Stream, the Eracle Canal, Sulina Veche all the way to Sulina Great Canal, Caraorman Canal, Litcov Canal, Isaac Canal, Isacu Mare, Isacu Mic (also known as Isăcel), the Uzlina Canal, slept again at Zorică’s, fresh and raw pike salad, fish zacusca, quite the adventure.

Day 6: Tamarin Guesthouse – Bucharest

Old Saint George Branch, the main Saint George Branch, Dranov Canal, the Lipovans’ Canal, Dunavățu de Jos, Snagov, Bucharest.

I haven’t mentioned or taken any pictures of our fishing rods. That’s because we didn’t have any. We came to the Delta without any thoughts or desire of fishing. We surprised everyone, and by the third time we heard the question, “What do you mean you came to the Delta and you’re not fishing?!?” we didn’t even bother to respond anymore.

I’ll leave you with some more pictures, featuring an upscale resort, the amazing Volvo, the Bărăgan region… and the German boat, handmade by The German himself.

At the end of this trip, Passenger Popescu gained great respect for: the people of the Danube Delta and their biceps, the Volvo car and its towing power, the 3-ton German boat “handmade by a The German,” and Captain Mișu and his navigation skills (all the canals seemed the same to me, but he knew every water lily and canal and shortcut – except for the old Știpoc Canal, haha) and his engine repair abilities. Why engine repair? Well, do you think that boat was made to go only at 10 kilometers per hour?! It had something to do with the engine, I didn’t quite understand what, something with a pump and cooling, because all I kept hearing was “it’s overheated again, the pump is clogged, wait a bit,” and Mechanic Mișu would disappear into the belly of the boat and tinker with something and emerge all dirty, like that English guy from “The Guns of Navarone” who spent half the movie fixing the boat, and would say to me, “Look at the stern and tell me, Fane, when clean water starts coming out, but make sure you don’t fall into the water while staring, ’cause we’d lose the good beer, and that would be a shame.” I was glad to be of use because I was mostly sitting on my butt and downing beers. By the third time I finally learned where the stern is, when he took mercy on me and said “boat rear’s end”.

A few months later, Mișu sent me a picture of something the size of an olive and said, “Mr. Fane, this is what caused the trouble. I dismantled the entire Italian engine, built to last a lifetime” (and he quickly threw in some technical terms). “I placed a special order. Without this, the pump wouldn’t work…” (and he included a bunch of technical terms again…). “I ordered one, they sent me two, and a letter of apologies. Now it’s working like a charm. And I improved the peridoc.” Well, that part completely lost me. All I could do was put on a very interested face, like in a corporate meeting, and say, “Ahaaa! Well, Mișu, good job! Well done, buddy!” I later found out that ‘peridoc’ is that special boat trailer, that goes in the water and it’s better to be sturdy and the boat to be perfectly seated and centered, especially when you have long trips ahead.

Conclusion, that can as well be an Introduction

What and where is Danube Delta?

The waters of the Danube, which flow into the Black Sea, form the largest and best preserved of Europe’s deltas. The Danube delta hosts over 300 species of birds as well as 45 freshwater fish species in its numerous lakes and marshes. Is part of the UNESCO World Heritage, and the link is here.

That’s it.

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Glossary of Terms

Mămăligă – polenta – it is a simple and hearty food made from cornmeal, water, and salt. Mămăliga has a long history in Romanian cuisine and is a staple food in many regions of Romania. In some regions, even in the same family, mămăliga is cooked until it becomes firm and sliceable. However, other people, like my wife prefer it softer, like a porridge. We stopped arguing about the mămăliga’s consistency a long time ago. Overall, mămăliga is a versatile and comforting dish that plays a significant role in Romanian culinary culture.

In US superstores one can buy polenta in plastic tubes. This is as close to real polenta as Olive Garden is to Italian food.

Mujdei – garlic sauce – is a traditional Romanian garlic sauce or condiment that is known for its strong, pungent flavor. It is a simple sauce made primarily from crushed or minced garlic, salt, and water, and it can also include ingredients such as vinegar, oil, or lemon juice. The exact recipe for mujdei can vary from one household to another, like many dishes of Romanian cuisine.

Zacusca is a traditional Romanian vegetable spread or relish known for its rich, savory flavor. It is often enjoyed as a delicious appetizer or condiment. Zacusca is made by roasting and then stewing a combination of vegetables, typically including bell peppers, eggplants, onions, tomatoes, and sometimes carrots. Many families have their own unique recipes and variations, which have been passed down through generations. Being very versatile, you can add mushrooms, red pepper flakes, various spices, garlic and, to my surprise, fish.

Borscht – borș – is a traditional soup, particularly from Romania and Moldova. Variations exist across Eastern Europe, and each region may have its unique twist on the recipe. Some variations include the addition of meat, while others are entirely vegetarian or vegan. Borscht is a hearty and nutritious dish, and it has become a symbol of Eastern European cuisine, enjoyed by people around the world.