Blossoming village

The village in blossom. The heathery pink on the mountains is actually beech trees in bud, about to burst into leaf. Further down the hillsides, the leaves are already out, but it takes time for the spring to reach the upper slopes.

Ups and downs

Yes, it is as steep as it looks, if not steeper. You can see my house on the ridge in the middle distance - a terracotta tile roof straight back from the house in the foreground.

Four foot 9" of tough old womanhood

Who needs the gym?

People get exercise if they live in a Carpathian mountain village like this. the gradients are severe, and there is a huge amount of physical work to be done every day. So the traditional diet of sugar, salt, fat and beer is just right up here. The food is good, properly organic, full of nutrients, with spring water from the mountain, beer straight frm the brewery, clean air, and the natural daily and yearly cycle. Men live to ripe old age as well as women, working on the land into their 70s and even 80s.

The chap on the left, who lives in this house, is a top sportsman, having won the Balkan Cross-Country Skiing Championship in March this year, in Turkey. The enormous cup is in pride of place in his impressively full trophy cabinet. He's got more silver than Everton.

Hard work

On these slopes there's only so much a tractor can do; even if there were tractors. Safer with one horse power and human muscle.

Ridge... no ridge

I take loads of photos of this house and the ridge behind it, with the fickle weather providing dramatic backdrops. These two were taken within three hours of each other. A few minutes after the bottom pic was taken, the house was just visible against a solid bank of cloud - no mountain visible at all.
See?

Weather watching

The weather in the mountains is forever changing, but in spring there are more fluctuations in temperature and sky than normal. In 24 hours we went from warm air and blue skies to snow and icy temperatures, down to freezing overnight and frost first thing, back to a warm morning and a hot blue sky at noon. Thunder storms boil up in minutes, and you can through all the weather man's little magnetic symbols in rapid succession: hail, snow, fog, sun, scudding clouds, rain, thunder... Sometimes you get several at once, like this.

All baaaa one

These were the last few days before the flocks go up to the high pastures for the summer. As soon as the snows are over, everyone sends their few sheep to join the village herd, of sheep, goats and cows, who climb the slopes of Piatra Craiului in search of sweet new grass, wild herbs and springwater, trying to avoid being slaughtered by bears and wolves (75% of Europe's remaining large carnivores are in the Carpathians).

The bread man cometh

This is the bread van that comes up to the village every other day. Cars are becoming less of a rare sight, but for Transylvanian village locals, horse and caruta (pronounced caruzza) is the usual form of transport.

Green grow the beeches, oh!

This is the road down from the village. As you can see it is unmetalled, steep, narrow, and tortuous. Between Zarnesti, down in the valley, and the village are five miles (8km) of bad roads and 11 hairpins through a forest of beech, spruce and mixed woodland. It's seriously green all year, but in spring, the beech leaves are the ultimate in fresh verdant new life - not even the lime green car can compete.

Back, batless, from Transylvania

Well, I was whisked, and now I'm back. I had nine splendid days in the glorious Carpathians, in the full flush of spring, with cherry blossom everywhere, new lambs, calves, foals, ducklings, housemartins nesting, sparrows fighting, beech trees brilliant green, and snow still on the mountains.