Plums are the quiet crop of Sălaj, and in the hills around Buciumi the orchards tell you so in every direction. In September, branches bend under purple fruit, the verges are littered with windfalls, and the smell of fermenting mash drifts from backyard stills, because this is where țuică is made. Țuică is the plum brandy of Romania, usually distilled twice, and served in small glasses with food. In Transylvania, the stronger, double-distilled version is often called pălincă.
Coasta Ogrăzii, a hillside name that roughly means the slope of the garden or yard, is one of several points around Buciumi, a village about six kilometres from Stârciu, and it sits among smallholdings where families keep an orchard, a pig, some hens and a kitchen garden. Distilling is a social ritual, with neighbours sharing a licensed still, and a tour of the villages in autumn would be incomplete without a sip offered by somebody's grandfather. Politeness suggests you accept a small glass and hold it for a toast, but with a bike waiting outside, a sip is enough, and nobody will be offended if you say you are riding.
The riding is quiet and varied. Lanes snake along the hillsides between the orchards, with short steep rises and bends that suit a light bike. The surface is variable, with smooth patches, rough ones and a lot of grit. Autumn adds wet leaves, squashed plums and mud on the road, a slippery combination, so slow down in the orchards. Traffic is rare, mostly small tractors, horse wagons and the occasional car.
Fuel is the practical constraint. Stârciu, with just over a thousand people, is too small to count on, and larger towns such as Zalău have stations and shops. Pack water and a snack, and ask at a village shop before heading up a track.
In late April, when the plum blossom turns the slopes white and the first warm day brings out the bees, it is just as good as autumn.