Wednesday, June 7 – Vrsac (Werschetz)

By the time we got the group rounded up and filled up with gas, we weren’t on the road until 9 a.m. We were off to Bethausen, a village founded by migrants from Zichydorf and some other villages in 1883. Most of the way was on the main road from Timisoara to Bucharest. Traffic was heavy and the road was as bad as the side roads we were on yesterday. It just wasn’t built to handle this volume of heavy truck traffic. It was under repair for most of the length of our trip, but there is still a long, long way to go.

As we approached Bethausen we began to see hills again for the first time since the Schildegebirge with small mountains of the southern Carpathians in the distance. Bethausen lies in these beautiful rolling hills. We found many tombstones from Zichydorf families, especially Niesners.

We returned to Timisoara by a different road that was in a little better shape, but which passed through more small towns, so the timing was about the same. We had to forego the tours we had planned in Timisoara because we were short of time, but we did grab a quick lunch on the main square. From there we set off for Serbia via Moravita (Morawitza), where my great, great grandfather was born. Unfortunately, Sorin advised that the cemetery there is almost unreachable and, if you could reach it, it is very grown over. So I contented myself with a picture of the church.

I must say that Sorin is everything he is reputed to be. He was very professional and he is knowledgeable about many subjects including history, the economy, and the political situation then and now. And he was even able to demonstrate considerable patience with our wayward flock; although I am sure we had him muttering to himself.

With things going so well, we were bound to hit a bump in the road sooner or later, and it happened today. The Serbian border guard said that our bus’ insurance wasn’t valid in Serbia and that Helmut’s bus driver ID was not sufficient identification. We waited on the bus for more than half an hour until Helmut convinced them to let us cross to the nearby bar, where we had been watching our next guide, Stasa Cvetkovic, pacing back and forth waiting for us.

Finally, after a little more than 1.5 hours total and some phone calls, Helmut was able to prove that everything was above board and we were off again at about 5:30. (We gained back the hour that we had lost in Romania.) Our first stop was to be a wine cellar in Guderica (Kudritz) where my grandmother’s family had made wine. However, Stasa found a better deal at the neighbouring village of Veliko Srediste (Gross Srediste). We went to the private home of Dorde (pronounced Georgie) Kristov, who was born in Kudrtiz to Macedonian parents. Dorde had 2.5 hectares of vineyards and produces 5,000 to 6,000 litres of wine per year. He has a wonderful

wine cellar below the house. (It is his mother-in-law’s house and he says that he married his wife for it.) We all went down to the cellar to taste 10 different wines and several homemade cheeses, sausages, and bread. Then we all went upstairs to a party room where we all had more of the wine that we liked the best and more food samples. When it was time for the sales pitch, we were well primed to buy his wine for 3 Euros per bottle and 10 Euros for a bottle of port that had the knowledgeable drinkers raving. The crowning touch was that Marge picked up the 5 Euro per person tasting charge as a business expense for her liquor store.

By the time we got out of there, it was 8 p.m. and it had started to rain. No Kudritz cemetery today. We proceeded to our hotel in Vrsac in a very god mood indeed.

The hotel was OK, but not quite up to western standards. It was a little worn and the materials were on the cheap side. For instance, when I tried to open my room’s door, it seemed to partially open, but got stuck. I pushed a little harder – just with my hand – and the whole door jamb fell to the floor. It was a little smaller than 1 inch by 1 inch and made of that pressed paper board. Not much of a deterrent if an intruder wanted to get in.