Lunca Ilvei holds a place in my heart almost as dear as Linz. When I left last year, I cried for days afterwards and I’ve thought about it often since then. When I returned, I was thrilled to find that everyone remembered me and was very pleased to see me again. I was invited to many, many houses and was given at least a coffee and also definitely either a beer or a shot of schnapps. Needless to say, 3 hours after I had arrived, I was very much relaxed and stopped even pretending to fight when my glass was refilled again and again and again (and again and again and again). People I didn’t even know insisted I come in and stay “un pic” and have a glass and a coffee. In a village where making a coffee involves making a fire to boil the water, the hospitality is amazing. I was also given the ‘good’ tuica, the pure, strong stuff, rather than the half water half tuica mixture they boil with sugar and drink like water (though that was usually offered after a shot or two of tuica).The drinking in villages is prodigious. Particularly men spend most of the evening after work sitting in groups and drinking beer after beer after beer. Sunday is a very quiet day in the village, when everyone sleeps well past 2 trying to survive their hangovers (and the cows low pathetically in their pastures for water). By the time the night fell and I went out, I was at that magical point in the night during which one actively seeks out more alcohol. People (ie, men) were more than happy to oblige me, and beer after beer was placed in front of me. As I clutched my head and gingerly rolled over in my bed the next morning, I earnestly swore never to drink again.
Sure enough, by 2 that afternoon, yet another glass of tuica was placed in front of me, though I managed to hold off until at least 7. Resistance is futile, your only chance is to sip very slowly and even then you’re likely to be urged to drink faster and have another.While all forms of tuica and beer are consumed with gusto, water is consumed infrequently. I was forced to ease my hangover with a few cups of coffee and just a few ounces of water.
I will spend the next 4 days, at least, avoiding alcohol and thoroughly enjoying the unlimited amounts of water that pour from my tap, and then will probably repeat the same process in a few weeks when I go back.
Cristi and Dani pose with their Bucovinian sheepdog, Bailey. The view around my beloved riding center, which still stands empty.
2 comments:
Well I am glad that they are all still alive in Lunca, if drunk as usual. A bit more work, rather less drink, more responsibility and less stealing, and there might still be a riding centre there. Seriously, I am glad that you were made welcome. It sounds like you had a good time, desite the involuntary (but perhas welcome) oral exit of all that grog. The trick with palinca is to stop drinking it when one can no longer taste it. Also, remember: "one is not enough; two are enough; three are not enough..." What it is to be young!
nice pictures!
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