Broken Hearts On Boulevard Unirii novel Chapter 6

Sebastian and the Gypsies "in need" sat in the back seat of the car, firmly attached to him on both sides, massaging his already inflated ego.

In one rented car Elia sat at the steering wheel with Silvia beside him, while Gert, Fabrizio and the young Luciana sat in the back.

I drove the second rented car with Mirella, the twin of Silvia, sitting next to me, while Claudio and Roxana sat in the rear. As soon as they settled in the car they vigorously began hugging and kissing each other. Mirella uttered some apparently insulting words in Romanian, while Roxana responded by giving her "the finger."

We started our trip with Angelo leading the way, then Elia following right behind, and I was last. We drove through the city of Bucharest, passing through the suburbs where the Gypsies live, along the outskirts of the city. From what I saw, it was clear that they lived in poverty. We continued in the direction of Boulevard Unirii and the parliament building, which was once the dictator Nicolae Ceausescu's palace. It is considered the second largest building in the world, second only to the Pentagon in Washington. The only way to get to the north of the city was to drive right through Bucharest. And so we did.

We drove toward the city of Brasov. As we began our ascent over the Eastern Carpathian Mountains the road began to twist and turn. Occasionally we had to stop to attend to the physical needs of one or more of the passengers. At each stop, everybody got out of the vehicles and scattered like sheep in the meadow. It took several minutes of horn-blowing until everybody was back in the car and we were ready to continue.

Turning to Mirella, who was sitting next to me and yawning loudly, I asked, "Where are you from?" Before she had a chance to answer, I continued asking, "Do all these yawns stem from boredom or because you didn't sleep a wink last night?"

"I slept very well. I knew right away that you weren't interested in me."

Surprised by her answer, I asked, "What do you mean by that? Why do you think so?

"First of all, you haven't spoken to me at all and didn't invite me to your room. Secondly, at the original meeting in the hotel, you didn't even try to come close to me."

"That doesn't mean a thing. Everybody moves at his own pace."

"You aren't moving at all. You are frozen in one place."

"What do you want me to do? I am driving."

I distanced myself a bit from the group and just stood there marveling at the amazing view with evening setting in and a cool breeze blowing. By the roadside lay huge boulders with sparse vegetation growing in between. It was so quiet and so different from what I was accustomed to at home; Tuscany, with large yellow sunflower fields in the summer and green olive trees throughout the year. In the distance I could hear the girls laughing. I could not help thinking to myself, what must they think of us; Italians old enough to be their parents coming to Romania in search of cheap sex.

I returned to the car, sat down behind the wheel and began honking without stopping. "What happened?" Elia asked with a panicked look on his face.

"We have to get moving. Soon it will be dark and the driving will become very difficult."

Angelo had found a shortcut to the lake on a map, which would substantially reduce our driving time. Although the road was unpaved, we took it anyway. And indeed, after driving for less than an hour more we saw Lake Izvorul unfolding before our eyes.

The hotel was situated right on the waterfront. Villa Camelia, the neon sign read. It was a nineteenth-century building built in the Art Nouveau style. Although it had a bit too much "kitsch" for my taste, it certainly was very special. What it lacked in size, it made up for in style.