Well, I’m writing this from sunny Braşov, a pretty town in Transylvania – where it’s still just Alexandru (name officially changed in order to protect the innocent) and… me. I’m beginning to suspect that these supposed “other people” due to join are purely mythical at this point – or perhaps they had an unfortunate run-in with a vampire en route…?

Speaking of the “not quite living”, I am increasingly coming to the conclusion that Alexandru himself may simply be a Romanian bot (or “RO-bot”, geddit?), programmed by the country’s powers-that-be to accompany tourists around the country while simultaneously boring them to death with the absolute minutiae of every single aspect of Romanian ancient history (while at the same time acting notably more coy on the by comparison far more interesting – not to mention hugely more relevant – 20th century onwards stuff…).

How have I reached this conclusion, I hear you ask? Well…

Exhibit 1: The Alex-RO’s conversational settings are locked to “guide mode” / “download only”. Any attempt to engage the guy in conversation beyond the officially pre-programmed talking points – or in anything resembling actual human dialogue – simply does not compute. To date, I can honestly say that he has not asked me a single solitary question about myself – not that I expect him to be interested in me or my life in the slightest, but a polite feigning of interest wouldn’t go amiss, especially given we’ve got to muddle through together for the best part of a week here still…

Exhibit 2: No deviation from the schedule is permitted, even though I’m the only person actually on it. This clearly goes against all existing programming, which cannot be adjusted, overridden, or reasoned with under any circumstance.

Exhibit 3: And finally, three days in and I have still not seen him eat, drink or use the toilet, and in fact the unit seems to react with some consternation when gently prompted around other people’s biological needs on this front. A clear sign, if ever there was one, that he was sent back in time by the future Romanian Ministry of Tourism, Terminator-style, to ensure no tour ever runs late.

Urghhh. Honestly, I’ve had far more interesting conversations with ChatGPT – which at least asks questions back! So in short, come back Lyle – all is forgiven! He might have been a massive bellend, but his one-man, entirely non-ironic karaoke sessions on the mini bus around Morocco were at least entertaining – albeit also undeniably excruciating.

Anyhoo – that was cathartic. But, on the upside, Transylvania itself is lovely! Today I visited the fantastic Peleș Castle, which is pretty much exactly what you want a proper medieval castle to look like – complete with soaring turrets and ornate woodwork, as well as some very troubled-looking lion statues.

It was here that the robot experienced a rare malfunction, when I casually remarked that I recognised the place from the epic masterpieces of cinema (ahem) that were A Princess for Christmas (2011) and A Christmas Prince (2017) – both still available on Netflix at last count for the less-than-discerning cinephile’s pleasure. This was apparently “not possible”, according to the Alex-RO, as during those years the palace administrators did not grant licences for commercial filming (an oddly specific fact to be able to retrieve at will, I thought…). Full-on system meltdown threatened to ensue when I showed him the evidence to the contrary on my phone, so I wisely withdrew and changed the subject to the comparative safety of the castle’s history – which kept him happily monologuing away on the subject till we finally reached Braşov an hour later.

As for now, I’m just settling into my guesthouse in town, which I plan to explore properly tomorrow – under continued escort from the Bot, naturally.

And if I have to hear one more unsolicited soliloquy on Dacian-Roman border tensions in the process, then I’m officially pulling his plug and defecting to the Ottomans. Or the vampiric undead. Quite frankly, at this point either will do – just as long as they promise not to talk “at” me literally non-stop or time any loo breaks against the itinerary… 🙂