Romania's very own John Prescott ( sort of..)

The last two days have been spent tramping all over the hills, and making sure all our plans are actually happening. The last job today was to go to look at an orchard as far away from Mosna as it is possible to be without being in the next Mayor's jurisdiction.
There are about 19 owners in total, and ( because we have to buy ALL a seller's land so they can get the extra pension from the government) we already own 2 bits of it. Some of the orchard was completely derelict and other parts were well maintained, and the access is mostly overgrown to keep the uninitiated out. Many of the trees still had apples that noone had bothered to collect, but many more of them were dead with huge balls of mistletoe having strangled them to death. I can feel an EU project coming on...
As we made our way back we saw the Mayor's car at the Forrest Man's house, and dropped in to say hello. The TV was on and there was huge excitement. It was a news programme, and they were about to show the film of Basescu hitting a small boy at a 2004 rally. We all watched fascinated as he punched the boy in the face. It has apparently been shown endlessly, which is understandable. The difference with our own JP ( as Tony Blair said at the time, Hey, that's John) is that the boy had only asked for his autograph.
The report went on to say that the boy, now older and living in Italy, had gone into hiding as he had had threatening calls - including death threats. Basescu at first denied it happened, then said it was a doctored video, and his latest is that he doesn't remember the incident. As Alin would say, we shall see.
As an aside, Basescu was a ship's captain, and was recently asked what he would do if he lost the election. When he replied that he would probably return to being a ship's captain, he was gently reminded that as Minister of Transport, he had completely sold off the Romanian Merchant fleet. This was very much akin to our own Gordon Brown's brilliant decision to dispose of most our gold.
We ended up having meatball tarragon soup and sarmale with them, whilst the TV endlessly debated the pros and cons of the incident. In the UK nowadays I suspect such an incident would immediately lead to prosecution and imprisonment, but this is Romania. As many people will now NOT vote for him as those who were not going to vote for him WILL.
We will see.
PS
I just heard a weather report on the BBC. Aparently there is flooding in Puddletown....

Back to work

With my friend having left, it is back to the grindstone today with a vengeance.
Having had the long drive to and from Cluj last night we filled up with petrol. There, in the hut that serves as an office, amidst the various maps and papers, was the very latest monthly from JAMIE OLIVER - in Romanian, teaching them how to cook. I can't help but think his recipes don't start with.. " Take a pig..." or " take 20 litres of neat alcohol." I daresay someone must be buying it.
The second round of the Presidential elections takes place on 6th December. Today, in an effort to dislodge Basescu, the Liberal party ( nominally his supporters ) the PSD, the PC, the "Transylvania for Hungarians" party and the " Kill all Hungarians" party formed a pact which, with a bit of luck, might get rid of him and deliver Geoana. There has been skullduggery at work. A large Geoana poster, set in 5 cm thick metal posts and in concrete was rammed and destroyed by a politically motivated vehicle from downtown Medias. At least that is the story. I suspect it may have been a drunk.
They do go a bit further than we do. In the petrol station you can get Geoana adverts which are actually the smelly things you hang in your car to make it smell nice.
I was particularly delighted to see the corn mill at work today. This dates back ( in part) to the early 1800s, and still takes in the corn cobs from the locals, grinds the corn and gives it back for a fee in time-honoured fashion. Here, the fee is usually a percentage of the amount milled. There was a most picturesque queue of worthy sons and daughters of the soil, along with their carts and horses, waiting to have their corn dealt with. It is mostly made into polenta, and is also mixed with wheat flour to make the bread go further.
Our first call was to Mosna Town Hall. We had asked Vasily, the map supremo, to extract names and addresses against field numbers.
There was no sign of him. One of the ladies told us that he had worked all night, fortified by copious draughts of tuica, and had had to be carried home at 7am when everyone came to work. The Mayor had granted him official leave to stay there until Monday...
Armed with our list ( the first names were clear and legible, the later ones very squiggly and a bit unsteady) we set off to check the fields themselves against the maps.
Always when we do this we are followed by a gaggle of old men and women, all of whom know every blade of grass and who it belongs to - except none of it corresponds with the maps or the property titles. It was a glorious day once more and we walked a total of about 12 kms checking and cross checking - the property titles also tell you who is to the North, South, East and West, so it is easy enough to check correctly, just time consuming. In the distance we could see Toaderico ploughing some of our fields. It was a treat to see a small patchwork of presently unused land being transferred into one large piece that will hopefully be productive. I had had some deep holes dug at various points in an area we are interested in, and we checked how they were coming on. All were more than 2 meters deep, and all still showing deep black earth even at the bottom. I told the diggers to stop - the land is more than good.
On our way back we came across the Mayor supervising the re-erection of the giant Geoana poster, and told him of our discoveries. His face broke into a broad grin.
"Ah, da. Forte Bine - terren fromose."
The land is good.