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Last night after a very fun, website-related meeting together with Cristina and Cipri we found ourselves wandering the streets in search of a cinema with a movie, any movie. 45 minutes and 1.5 clicks later we found ourselves in front of Cinema PRO, tickets in hand, wondering where to eat before the movie started. What we ate and what movie we saw matters very little.
The movie finished around midnight, and as Geocaching is a common topic in discussions these days, due to my recent blog posts, we had to show Cristina what the whole thing is about. We put in the coordinates for a GC located around the Russian Church, a mere 20m away from the cinema but we were put off by the locked gates, the Czech embassy security personnel and the eerie-looking woman dressed in black, eating an apple in the garden of the church... behind the locked gates... after midnight.
We switched to the coordinates of a GC located near another church, just accross the boulevard. This time we were put off by a big guy who seemed overly-interested in our activities and who was lurking around the area at that unreasonable hour. We crossed the boulevard again and made our way through the narrow streets of Lipscani towards another geocache.
Arriving near the Selari Church we were surprised to find out that we were looking for a regular-sized cache, not like the micro caches I'd been accustomed to. Discovering there was a yard behind the church we immediately concluded it had to be there. We unlocked the gate, made our way in, met the dog, woke up the residents of the nearby buildings with the dog's barking and pretty quickly had to retreat. As I refused to give up we read the hint, looked for clues on the website cache log and only eventually then noticed the brightly coloured box, with "GEOCACHE" written on it, laughing at us from a highly visible "in-our-face" location that had nothing to do with the yard, or the dog, or the little-old lady with the assault rifle (being from Romania I imagine she probably didn't actually have a rifle, just a big mouth, a really annoying voice, and the police on speed-dial).
We signed the log book, took pictures and then we each went our separate ways. I'll leave the rest of the story, religious-fanatic-conspiracy-theory-obsessed taxi driver and all that, for Cipri to tell, if he wishes, on his own blog.
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