As a travel writer for over 30 years I’ve had to push myself to do some out-there things: racing in a formula one car at 150 mph, taking to the air in everything from balloons to gliders to blimps. Trekking through jungles, walking through tough neighborhoods, I’ve usually sucked it up. Fear can be a long, drawn-out ache, such as waiting for medical test results. And sometimes it is unexpected — a sharp rush of adrenaline on an otherwise uneventful day. Maybe the fear lasts a few seconds, but it calls upon our mind and body to flee or fight. I’ve endured the ache of slow fear. But it is sudden, unexpected fear that sears itself into memory. And one time in particular, on the road in an unfamiliar environment, I remember when I had to react in a split second. ** I’m on a riverboat on the Danube, cruising from Germany to Bulgaria, on assignment to write about the trip, and I bring along my female friend, Merle. Our boat stops at a small Romanian harbor town on a cloudy spring day, and we decide to stroll into the historic center. On this Sunday late afternoon, few people are out, and we wander toward a row of leafing trees with fragrant blossoms, passing an old church

Read the original here Lea Lane: Wild Dogs in Romania: An Unexpected Travel Challenge