Romanian houses in the country are little gems but very hard to visit.

The Romanian houses in the countryside are rarely visit by tourists - who only ever really see the Bucharest tower blocks followed by nice hotels in the mountains or by the sea.

You need to build up very warm relationships - or I my case, get engaged to the family's only daughter, to enter the countryside homes.

Their outsides look worn and rundown - and there is a good reason for this. Every year I am promised the houses will be completely renovated the following summer - so why spend money now? Every summer it seems the weather s too hot or wet or the workers cannot be found, so we reluctantly leave it another year.

My country home has sloping floors due to subsidence - cracks in the walls which leave the new comer nervous and spiders in every shape, colour and hue racing about at night - making it essential to check our bedding daily.

However - everyone doe try their best to make it a home. There is a little connecting window between the two rooms ad from the main room comes the sounds of laughter and arguments that would rip an English family apart for months - followed 10 minutes later by more laughter.

It took a while to persuade my new family to collect rainwater from their roofs at the Romanian houses - but now we have barrels everywhere. The rain in Romania pours down - making it essential to go outside - with my battered old umbrella - to empty barrels and make sure every barrel is filled to its limit. This water goes for the cow.

Running water is still a luxury in many peasant Romanian houses - we have to wait about another 10 years before water - funded by the EU - reaches us. We could make our own well - and lots of people do - but from other neighbors’ experiences - you could spend a fortune digging - and discover nothing - up to 50m down - to show for it!

I have always associated life in the country with relaxation. So I am particularly fond of our little old, rather ramshackled, bench outside our gate. In the past the whole village would sit out and gossip by the gatepost - now no one does - even our old, wildly bearded, beggar seems to have found a better haunt. The problem being that our road I more of a dust track - so with each passing - speeding - car, you are enveloped in a cloud of dust. This dust gets everywhere - into the house and beds.

Our kitchen is a building on its own. I guess it is to reduce the fire risk. Here the top cat and Grandfather live. And the million odd flies - which I am sure were put on this earth to give grandfather something to do.

Only recently did we work out how to add a sink and a tank of water there -so we can wash up inside - a luxury in winter!

The final touch of the house is its numerous wood burning stoves. I had one installed in my room - when it is on - you boil, as Grandma is very generous with the wood. When it is off - my wife frets I will get sick from the cold - despite the numerous blankets and super thick woolen duvet - made by my grandma in her youth.

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