Cetatea Enisala

On the way back from an excursion to the Danube Delta, with the sun slowly setting into the Black Sea, I saw a road sign pointing to the ruins of a fortress. I almost whizzed past it, but some mysterious force compelled me to take the turn.

The detour required jolting through a couple of decrepit villages. But once I got out on the plain again, the image that unfurled before me was to die for.

The ruins of Cetatea Enisala were perched atop a solitary hill - they appeared to be keeping each other company amidst the otherwise empty landscape. When I climbed it, it was already dusk, with only a few lights flickering in the distance. I found myself enveloped in a warm, sultry breeze, surrounded by the delta on one side, the sea on the other, lake Babadag to the west, and the vast plains of Dobruja to the south. As the four sides of the world swirled into one intoxicating vista, I felt my presence there almost cosmic.

The ruins themselves were crude and, except for a small plate in Romanian, there was no information about the origins of the fortress. But, free from the need to know, I opted for the luxury of simply being there, at one with the surroundings.

My lofty musings were then interrupted by a very concrete reality-check - four fluffy, squeaking puppies, appearing as if from nowhere, bouncing towards me. This didn’t come as a big surprise, considering Romania’s reputation for the ubiquity of stray dogs. But given the circumstances, I needed a minute to wrap my head around this unexpected encounter.

Before I managed to do so, their mother joined the gathering. There was obviously no food around, and - having four mouths to feed - she was emaciated.

I had nothing immediately on hand except for a couple of apples and nectarines that satiated me during those sweltering afternoons, but this didn’t seem adequate for a hungry dog. Having satisfied the puppies’ need for caressing and attention, I decided to move on.

The mom made it all the way to the parking lot with me, sat down, and waited as I rummaged through the trunk in search of fruit. The two apples, and three nectarines disappeared in a matter of seconds. Her muzzle soaked in juice and saliva, she timidly wagged her tail and was on her way as well.

It was pitch black as I silently pulled away, still imbibing the ambience and mystery of this place. To this day I didn’t feel the need to learn anything concrete about it. The memory of its eerie beauty and the uncanny circumstances suffices.