Do you ever feel the road breathing beneath you? In Prahova Valley, under a rain as thin as silk, the world unravels in shades of bronze and smoke. The car hums through the artery of the mountains, and every curve feels like turning a page in a book written by weather. The trees lean inward, conspiratorial, their leaves glistening like relics of a forgotten empire of summer. You move, yet something ancient in you stays still, watching, absorbing, remembering. Each kilometre here is a confession

Mina Unirea, Slanic, Prahova. | Sicro Travel