theatre of the absurd: Romania, part IX - Alba Iulia (i): Cetatea Alba Carolina during the night, and Hotel Transilvania; also, Romanian coffee machines

Honestly, after the mountainous charm of Sighisoara, dusty, marble-hard Alba Iulia seemed like a bit of a downgrade. Our journey there was kind of weird-ish - we had a layover at a town called Teius which was one of those ugly European railway towns that is literally in the middle of nowhere. I'd been a bit fussed about our layover because it was almost 3 hours, but since our train from Sighisoara was more than an hour late, that greatly reduced our layover time in Teius. Me and Lital were stressing a bit over whether we'd miss our connection to Alba Iulia as the platforms were not clearly signed at all, and we couldn't find any info on connecting trains. Finally, when one of the trains pulled up at our time, I went up to a guy who looked like he could speak English, and asked him if this was the right train. He said he was going to Alba Iulia as well and confirmed that this was indeed the correct train. Me and Lital grinned and got on. It was, once again, one of those 6-person Soviet style trains - all in a day's work.

The guy whom I'd asked about the trains poked his head into our compartment and asked if he could sit down. Me and Lital exchanged glances - we'd been looking forward to having the entire compartment to ourselves, and despite our gratitude for his help earlier, it did not mean that we wanted a new BFF. He was also clearly in his forties, and in no universe do two women in their twenties want to randomly befriend a man in his forties. He started talking to us - he was Romanian, but had spent some time abroad - and overshared a bit about himself, showing up pictures of his girlfriend, his girlfriend's kid, telling us about his ex girlfriends, and then asking us where we were staying. I said I'd forgotten the name of the place we were staying at, and then, much to our horror, he took out his phone and opened up google maps, and said "Well why don't you find it here."

Rule number one in the travel playbook is that you do not just randomly ask people you just met on the train, where they are staying, and ask them to find their hotel on Google Maps. Especially if you are a male in your forties, and the other people are young women in their twenties. I cannot stress how creeped out Lital and I were. We both shot another quick, panicked stare at each other. I pointed at any old hotel, and said "This one, I guess."

"Are you sure that's the one?" the guy asked, prompting another furtive glance of annoyance between me and Lital.

"Yeah," I said, whilst privately wondering why he couldn't leave well alone.

We resumed our conversation (at this point it had gotten too weird to just start ignoring him), and the guy kept circling back to where we were staying, much to our discomfort, and saying "If that's REALLY where you're staying." He must have repeated this sentence at least three times. The first time I was spooked, the second time I found myself wondering if I'd been that obvious, and by the third time, I was starting to get a little annoyed.

We continued talking, and I tried to divert his attention to other things - anything but further inappropriate questions about where we were staying. When he heard that Lital was Russian, he made another creepy remark about how attracted he was to Russian women, and how they were oh-so-beautiful. I don't know if he realised how unsettling this sounded.

The train drew closer to Alba Iulia, and the guy answered his phone and started speaking in Romanian, then he turned to us and said, much to our horror, "My uncle's coming to the train station to pick me up. I'll ask him to give you a ride to your hotel. If that's where you're REALLY staying, that is."

"Oh no," Lital said quickly. I could hear the alarm bells going off in her head, just like mine. "We can find our own way there, no problem."

"You sure?" the guy said. "It's really no trouble."

Clearly this man has never read Stranger Danger. Rule number two of the playbook - NEVER get into an unsecured car.

"We enjoy walking," I said. "Thank you so much for your kind offer, but we're fine, really."

At this point, the train pulled up at Alba Iulia, and I can say for sure that Lital and I were never more relieved to get off a train than we were at that moment. We got off as soon as possible, then concentrated on putting as much distance as we could between ourselves and our unwelcome fellow traveller. I watched him leg it over the tracks, and disappear, and I heaved a sigh of relief when I could see him no longer. On the way to the hotel, me and Lital discussed what had just happened, and how we were this close to being murdered. We complained copiously about his numerous inappropriate attempts to coax our hotel name out of us. "I wonder if men realise how threatening those kinds of questions can be," she said.

We managed to find our way to the hotel, and at first glance it was very plushy - the hotel screamed poshness. Our rooms, however, were small and rather basic. We said that it was a good thing we weren't staying here too long, and we decided to head out for dinner. The service was awful and the waitress behaved as if we owed her 5000 pounds. The caprese salad I ordered was, literally, sticks of cheese and tomatoes. I've never seen anything like it before. My main dish wasn't too bad though, but all the same - not coming back to this rather unpleasant town, nor the equally subpar restaurant and cramped hotel.