I had no idea that it’s going to be such a loud weekend and that we will be pretty much stranded all day in the apartment we rent on the way to Poiana Brașov. It was supposed to be a quiet Saturday when the roar of the engines interrupted our frugal breakfast.
The kid got scared:
“Mommy! What is that awful sound? It sounds exactly like the quad!”
Just as an extra information, “the quad” is my quad that scares the shit out of her when I only touch it to get it running. She’s so scared of it that she won’t even enter the basement we keep them in. She makes it look like a monster lying dormant in his lair with this attitude…
It was just our luck to decide to rent this beautiful place right in the weekend when they close the main access to Poiana Brașov, all normal, citizens’ cars being forbidden and all hell breaking loose in the sound of the engines roaring. It was the traditional “Poiana Brasov slope stage” of the National Rally and we had no idea that we had booked seats in the front row. Right outside our building. So close that we were practically stranded during the whole thing, that lasted some hours. We weren’t allowed to take out the car from the parking spot practically.
It was logical. What the fuck can you do with a diesel among rally cars eh?
I’m not any expert in this sport. I drive for need and pleasure and I think I’m a good driver. The older I get, the more attention I dedicate when I practice this sport. Which is like everyday of course. Still, all day I wondered how the hell do you get a Mini, to compete agains some exotic cars and one I think, part of the Formula cups (not 1, something else). How do you get a tuned Dacia to compete against a Dodge Viper. That’s what I don’t get, really.
I think the young one got cured of her “engine roar” fear during that day. She was totally scared in the first couple of minutes but then, something snapped inside of her I think: passion for beautiful cars must run in most of the veins of the young generation. I think it’s in their DNA one way or another. She got accustomed to the loud sounds in a couple of minutes and came closer, where I was.
Still… a dangerous sport to sit close and watch. I know that you don’t usually hear about accidents happening like this, I guess these guys are professionals… but I couldn’t hold a little bit of adrenaline prepared, just in case I had to run like the wind.
Though it looked more like a show off (to me, the amateur, those cars didn’t fit together anyway) these guys were flooring the pedal when they were passing by pretty hard. Some of them even drifted a little which made my heart skip a beat and my camera shaking. In the end your burger meat anyway if you happen to be on the trajectory…
Worse part of it?! We got real hungry as we got closer to noon hours and as we didn’t really bring any real food with us, basing our decision to go down into Brașov to eat lunch, we started hating the show. I really do appreciate this, but on dirt. For me “rally” means bad roads, dirt, sweat and blood.
And watching it on youtube from the confort of my home…