Geoagiu Bai

The first question to strike my mind when I set foot here, the first question of many was why the hell is this place so off the map? I often hear that if there is a god at all, he is not merciful and kind and that he created humans as a means of amusement, puppets on a string dropped on a stage where there is no hope and no joy to be had. To all those people, I have two words to say…“ Geoagiu Bai”. No, I haven’t taken leave of my senses, yet. It’s just that I couldn’t believe how much cajoling and coaxing it took for me to finally come here. My rationale was that if it was so splendid, how come I had (or almost anyone else) heard about it yet?

That probably explains why no one knows how to pronounce its name, barring Madalina whose tongue it rolls off sounding like freshly picked honey. Strange, it sounds more like cracking egg shells when I try to pronounce it.

But it’s a good thing then that words fail me when I set my eyes on the rapturous beauty of the Apuseni Mountains lingering around, the spa baths waiting for me to dunk my word-weary body in its rejuvenating waters. I remember the Finnish being ritualistic, almost loving when it came to their saunas and it is almost the same as that when it comes to these spas deep in Romanian hinterland. It’s not surprising why those that do visit this place rave so much about it. The region is gifted with minerals plucked from the very depths of the earth, and it is these very minerals that endow the waters with its unique curing properties. Knowing about Geoagiu Bai is realizing you have stumbled upon a pearl of rare beauty, and I will not tell anyone about it lest this little slice of heaven becomes a tourist location.

Apuseni Mountains

And it is not just the waters that set my edgy mind at ease, it is the tranquil of the surrounding environs that puts me at ease. It is like nature tore a blank cheque from its reserves of beauty and it has been encashed right here to the fullest extent possible. It has the best of mountain and sea, and gently wrapped in rows upon rows of beech and fir is a verdant beauty almost unknown to the world. I genuinely fear though that fame will bring hordes of tourists and gone will be the sylvan loveliness of it all. I cast an eye over at Madalina though and reflected in her I see a collective pride of the region and know that none can pillage its splendor. It will remain tucked away in the bosom of the mountains, forever issuing its call of the wild to those lucky enough to hear it. One day I too, will return and with my head on the rolling grass close my eyes and be transported back to a more peaceful easygoing time where jaguars are big cats and windows are meant to be installed in homes, not computers.

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