A ponoară, in the Romanian of these hills, is a sinkhole or swallow hole, a place where a stream vanishes into the ground. Ponoară în Vârf, which translates roughly as the sinkhole at the top, is a name that suggests limestone, and limestone country has its own character: dry ridges, hidden springs, small caves and sudden depressions in the meadows where the soil has collapsed.
Karst country has a way of confusing the water. Streams dry up in summer and reappear lower down the valley as springs, wells run low in drought, and old people can tell you exactly which spring never fails. Many villages are built around a single dependable source with a stone trough and a carved wooden spout, where passers-by stop to drink and fill bottles. If you find one beside the road, the water is usually cold and good, though in an uncertain place it is wise to ask a local before drinking.
The ride here is slow and varied. Roads follow the valley floors and then climb steeply up and over spurs, with some hairpins on the steepest sections and gravel on others. Rain in the hills can bring mud and small rockfalls, and in winter the shaded bends are treacherous. In summer, expect farm traffic, horses and cattle, and beware of dogs that guard the flocks. Light on the descents is dappled and changes fast, so slow down for the shadows.
Spermezeu, with some two and a half thousand people, has a few shops and cafés, but fuel is scarce, and the safest plan is to fill up in a larger town before heading into the hills. Phone signal can drop out in the valleys.
Spring, when the streams are full and the beech leaves are fresh, is the best moment for this country.