Walking the fields

Being out in the fields in the sunshine is one of the reasons I come to Romania, and yesterday was one of those days when we had to walk the fields in company and have fields pointed out to us and discuss what needed to be done to them. It was the most perfect day and I am now boasting a winter tan.

The day stared with Toaderico insisting we had some mulled wine against the cold ( it was about 17c in the sunshine) followed up with a ride to the further reaches of the empire sitting, emperor like, on a plank across the trailer.

Toaderico used to work in Germany but as he says he hated it. He made pots of money but was so so miserable he had to drink it all. Now he is back in the village of his birth ( Alma Vii) and happy as one of his pigs in the mud bath he calls his back yard.

We set off in search of a fabled lake, which Toaderico assured us he had used to visit when he was a child. We found it all right, but unfortunately the end had been dynamited to get the fish out by some shepherds years ago. Potentially it's a lovely spot, but, frankly,there is little of merit in rebuilding the end, because it is too far away from anything to enable a profit to be turned. But the ride on the tractor was huge fun, enlivened by Toaderico's 4-speaker mp3 player blasting out Romanian music. I would estimate it is at least 20 years old.

The walking started thereafter, and five hours later we got back to the tractor. The land we surveyed was more than good, and Toaderico's instructions in terms of ploughing, treating weeds and generally making ready for planting were all costed and agreed.

Nothing would do, of course, but that we should go to his mother's house for a drink and lunch ( by now it was 4:30 - bit early but still) where we fed the pigs and chickens with corn ( I'm almost sure it's mine but who knows) and ate a delicious dish which I could only describe as scrambled eggs with cheese and really thick very well cooked bacon. The only drawback was the two glasses of tuica I had to consume before I could get to the food. But the business was done and that was the major point.

In the meantime a herd of locusts had descended on the car, with people waving property titles at us and demanding we consider their land, particularly as it was especially good and productive, unlike their neighbour's which was rubbish. We have had to institute a policy that we pay the identical price everywhere, as otherwise it would be a spiral and create great ill will. As it is, people either accept or reject the price is it suits them, and we then have to do the hard work of registrating it ( as Alin would say ) and transferring title. In the event none of them wanted to accept the prices, but I have no doubt they will in time.

The day ended with dinner at the BinderBubi for 6 which worked out at GBP7 per head. Considering the wine, three courses, coffee and beers I though this more than cheap...

First Quarter results

The first three months of the Official Walking regime are over.
I'm about 7 kgs lighter.
My Buddha like tummy has shrunk a little.
And I spend a lot of time hanging around bus-stops.
All in all I would have to say it's been quite a success. The Ms Lears are astonished that I have kept it up, but then, no one ever takes my determination about things seriously - it's the affable exterior. If I may say so, a bit like David Cameron.
The Doc wanted me to do a 24hr. Blood Pressure monitor, so I turned up at the hospital at the appointed hour. Promptly called through, the nurse started rigging me up for an ECG.
" Er, am I having an ECG as well?" I asked.
"It's just an ECG."
" No, I'm in for a BP 24hr test"
"No, you're here for an ECG."
" No, its the BP test."
Very belligerent, hands on hips. " Do you want to make me go and check"
" Yes" - and off she stamped.
Of course, she never reappeared, but another nurse did with the right equipment.
" Sorry about that - couldn't read the instructions properly " ( didn't read them at all, as they were typed)
So I was fitted with an arm band and monitor - which didn't work.
And another - which didn't work.
And then a third one, that was so big it would have easily done an elephant - and kept falling off .
Finally, the fourth one fitted and worked, and off I toddled.
If you have ever had to have this done, you will know how appallingly inconvenient it is. Every time it went off I was in the middle of something and had to stop. Then it went off about every 20 minutes. If I didn't have high BP before I certainly had it with the machinery.
Strangely, it didn't bother me too much overnight, and I dropped it back the next morning.
There was also a form that needed to be completed saying what I was doing during the day - as in 10:45 driving. 11:15 walking, 12:45 cooking ( it went off twice whilst I was in the middle of making two lots of soup),1:15 eating, 8:30 TV.
The ones that would have confused them from me were 9:00 pm computer 9:30 Chess - I'm looking forward to see what they make of it all.
The other problem is that I have White-Coat Syndrome, which I would expect carried over into the monitoring environment, so if you hear I have dropped dead from a heart attack it will be because they have made me have another test ( I intend to refuse if they want one)

In search of some excercise

For reasons I am not very sure of, every one of our advisers out here is female. In terms of age, they probably range from about 30 to about 60, and in terms of attractiveness, on a scale of 1 to 10, from about 0.5 up to a potential 10.

I say potential because Beauty is, of course, in the eye of the beholder, but I have it on good authority that our two legal advisers, as opposed to Notaries Public, are attractive enough to turn the head of a saint.

This has an unexpected plus - or maybe a minus.

Despite being a macho society, the female form and its allure is a subject of enormous interest. I often think that Feminism has killed both courtesy to women and a proper appreciation of them - which, despite what we are told, they might like to hear.

In any event the two Avocats are much appreciated by all and sundry, one being blond the other a brunette. Of course, they are well aware of the effect they have on we poor men.

Their speciality is land law, so we have quite a few meetings with them. Since the word of their beauty got around, we find that any male sellers are very keen to discuss their "problems" before committing to a sale. Naturally, these are almost non-existent, but the sellers go off with a happy smile and we get the land. I'm quite sure that a few bits have fallen to us because of them, even although one or two of the sellers abuse the system and try for a second and even a third meeting. In general though their expertise has been outweighed by their allure, and it seems to work in our favour.

The other thing that is definitely working for us at the moment is the fact that we have quite a lot of land, and it means we can offer not just money, but a swop or part exchange. We have also been able to tie up a deal to rent some land ( 3 Ha) to a farmer in exchange for giving us another piece - particularly cost-effective.Finally, through our connection with the Topograph, who does all our business and is the head of the University Topograph School, we have a cost advantage over anyone else. Recently, we were able to get a seller's house area surveyed ( he was wanting to sell it to someone, not us) and in exchange we got some land. His cost would have been about Eur 700, ours was only about Eur 150, so we effectively got .77 of a hectare for about one third of what it would have cost us normally.

As you know I am now officially a walker, and because it has been so hot here, I have done less than I should have done. So yesterday being cooler and with the odd cloud, I told Alin I would walk back from Alma Vii to Mosna - about 10 kms.

He was horrified.

"Mr. King! What happen if you get attacked? The Mayor he will not forgive me!"

I explained I walked all over Glasgow without any problems and felt sure a country road would prove no problem.

"No no! I will not allow it!" Ok, I said, drive along in front of me.

"OK! But you just jumping into the car if you see someone." Apart from the fact I have never seen any violence in Romania, my feeling that this was over the top was mitigated by the thought that I was his meal ticket.

So off I set with Alin driving along on front. After a short while I pulled up beside him and told him to go ahead a bit as the fumes were annoying me. Very reluctantly he complied.

A few minutes later, another car passed.

Now I suppose I am quite well known in the area, and the minute the driver saw my face he screeched to a halt and offered me a lift. Alin had spotted this in his rear-view mirror and had come racing back.

Explanations and hand shakes all round and best wishes and off I set again - to be stopped after another kilometer or so by a man driving in the wrong direction who offered to take me wherever I wanted.

This happened every time a car passed, so that instead of taking just over an hour nearly 95 minutes had gone by as Mosna came into view - when another car pulled up. By this time Alin and I were both fed up, and I accepted a lift for the last few hundred meters - which horrified Alin, who drove within 5 feet of the car all the way into town.

But I was just feeling naughty.

" Mr. King, I am not allowing you to do this again! You are giving me hearts attacks! If you are wanting to walk, I will get Gellu to come with you" ( Gellu is the number 2 policeman)
It's rather nice to feel quite so secure.

In the Bank...

As you will know if you have been paying attention, I am now a fully-fledged member of the Car-less-bus-riding-walking-underclass. To be a health-fanatic member you must own a pedometer, and I duly bought one today.
According to the Doc, who claims to be the same age as me, everyone should walk 10,000 paces a day. At a rough calculation this is just under 5 miles a day.To and from the office is about 60% of this, so a couple of excursions daily are required to make up the balance. To and from the Bank just about does it. I don't need to go to the Bank every day, but hey, they are always very nice, so I may just drop in for a chat.
Today as I was waiting for something, a somewhat scruffy lady came in and approached a teller.
" Ahve got a charge on my credit card of twelve quid - wit's it fur?"
Turned out to be an over limit charge.
" But why? Ahve no' bin goin' mental nor nothing."
Yes but it's over the limit.
" Whit d'ye mean? Whit limit?"
The limit on your credit card.
" Naw naw, I alus piy the right amount ivry month"
To cut a long story short, she had been looking at the card statement, which shows the minimum payment requirement each month and paying that. Eventually, of course, she had run out of road, and was incensed by it.
And now she owed some £2500. Which drove her into a frenzy of self-justification that she had been paying what was asked every month, and how come she owed all this.
Eventually, the local manager took her into a meeting room and went through her account with her. I don't know what the eventual outcome was as I got what I wanted and left, but it did occur to me that if the banks and credit card companies are giving people credit limits of thousands of pounds who have no actual idea of what they are doing, then hell mend 'em.
In the old days, people didn't get credit, and in general didn't get into financial bother. I remember my mother buying a Hoover on the never-never in the late '50s and my father being enraged. People were taught debt was bad and ate into your soul - but none of that applies any more. They want it, and they want it now.
And the banks have obliged - up to the point where they themselves are over indebted and then we all have to pay - and suffer.