Birthday afternoon, 12PM - Waiting for the bus to Sighisoara. A random gypsy guy offers us a lift. I hesitate (maturely): what if he's a serial killer? Or a kidnapper? What if he gets us all killed with his reckless driving? P. immediately says yes and drags me to the car. It turns out the guy is a good driver, and good company too, so my display of maturity was misplaced. I make a mental note not to resort to maturity again for some time. As he makes us listen to a loud selection of UB40's greatest hits, I grin at the return of a familiar (and thankfully ageless) feeling: the giggly excitement usually associated with adventure, summer and spontaneity.
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