Breakfast in the hotel had been demolished by the early risers and there was literally nothing left for us except a slice of cake and a piece of dry bread. There was some watered-down orange juice and some of that disgusting brown stuff the Romanians call coffee.

The obligatory "view from our hotel window" picture.

We checked out of the hotel with some relief and got on our coach. Our guide was again Cosmic. We moved off but he only had 10 minutes to bombard us with facts before we stopped and we had arrived at a monastery. Eastern Orthodox, it was interesting outside but stunning inside. Unfortunately, we could not take photographs as a service was being conducted. And there are no photos of the outside because I had my finger over the lens!

Outside, Doug noticed that in this church all the candles were being burned outside in a little outhouse and not inside. He pointed out a Romanian lady who was lighting candles and who had brought along a large cake. He made a joke - and the lady said, "it is for my husband who died yesterday." Ooops. Cosmic explained that it is a Romanian tradition to bake a certain type of cake and give it to the monastery on the occasion of a death. Back onto the coach and a short trip to Peles Castle (pronounced Pelesh). Eclectic, I think the word is – you name a style, it’s there somewhere.

It was a glorious day and I was not tempted to go in, but Bruce did and I sat with Barbara in the sun listening to her life story. She had me in stitches: some stories were far too vulgar to print here, but suffice it to say, I now can’t hear the words "Ford Fiesta" without laughing.

Bruce came out and pointed out the castle guide who clearly came from Transylvania: she looked just like Morticia Addams.There was a shop at the castle, and at last an opportunity to spend money. The shopaholics aboard were champing at the bit to buy something, anything – even a post card. But alas they only took Romanian lei! And where were they all when we were at the cashpoint? – they were eating lunch! Barbara asked if I could lend her enough for a couple of post cards – but when I flashed my cash, I was suddenly inundated by requests for loans. People who had not spoken to us during the holiday so far suddenly introduced themselves. I was able to accommodate most of them: except the lady who wants 150,000 lei for a silver dish! We were then driven back to the hotel for lunch. There was a soup, beef in a rich tomato sauce and doughnuts with jam and smetana. We sat with Peter and Eileen Quayle who live near Guildford. They, like most on this trip, have travelled extensively, and saw this as a relaxing holiday. Eileen is apparently an expert on the Voortrekker Memorial Tapestry. It’s a small world.

During lunch Patsie was able to change some money and my loans were quickly repaid with thanks. I was glad it has broken the ice.Time to return home – I mean the ship. Already it seemed like home. Someone has clearly had a quiet word with Cosmic who stayed blessedly quiet and we were all able to doze during the long journey back.At 15:00 we are back at the awful café for bad coffee, but at least this time the drinks are cold.We continued back, and Cosmic now chatted away again. We pass the gypsy houses once more and once more told the offensive story he told last time. As we get closer to the ship, Bruce asked what tip we should give him? I suggested a tip for Cosmic – don’t repeat racist stories.We got back to the boat and were delighted to see Peter the barman at the top of the gangplank with a tray of drinks for us.Elisabeth told Bruce that she was trying to arrange some local entertainment on the boat one evening. The agent of the singer we had heard in the hotel the previous night had told her we could have him, but thankfully Elisabeth had declined as apparently more of us had told her what we thought about him! However, the singer was an agent himself and had suggested to Elisabeth that she had five nuns from Moldavia come on board and paint an icon. He wanted $2,500 for this. Elisabeth told him this was far too expensive and in any case Moldavia was 600 miles away – could he not get some nuns from a local monastery? He came back to her later with an offer of two nuns from Romania at $1,500, but they would have to be accommodated on board for two nights. Elisabeth was outraged: "On, come on!" she said to Bruce, "There are a lot of monasteries along the river, I told him. Why couldn’t they stay in one of them and exchange lifestyles or something?" At this point Bruce had hysterics.The ship left Olteniţa at 19:00.We had dinner with Mary-Jane and Pat from Georgia. I had no idea Georgia had mountains.After dinner, Sheri asked us to join her and we chatted until late.