Are We There Yet?

Another trip is over. I hesitate to gush over how enjoyable this visit was, given the travails so many of our friends and loved ones have suffered these last several weeks, but please excuse my seeming insensitivity. We were glad to hear all those in the way of the hurricanes are physically safe and, in many cases, helping with the recovery.

Transylvania

Visiting the historical and myth-infused region of Transylvania was perhaps the most physically tiring stretch of the trip, with long bus rides between destinations and early morning reveille calls for the days’ events, but it may have been the best. In short, we quite loved Transylvania.

From the traffic of Bucharest (2.5 million legal residents, 4 million cars!) we headed north to the Carpathian Mountains, the historical and cultural divider between north central and south Central Europe. Partway into the mountains is the boundary between Wallachia, now southern Romania, and Transylvania, a land long desired by and hence contested by the Hungarians, the Romanians, and a few other empires such as Austria, Russia and the Ottoman Empire. As of the end of World War I Transylvania was “awarded” to the Kingdom of Romania. Later, Romania lost parts of itself to Moldova, Bulgaria and Serbia, but retained Transylvania.

Transylvania today is a mix (by ancestry) of Romanians, Hungarians, Germans (locally called Saxons) and Roma (aka Gypsies). There are at least a million Hungarians and Germans living in Transylvania now and many more than that of Gypsies, although the latter live as a people apart and refuse to be counted. Absolutely none of our guides had anything positive to say about the Roma although they were careful not to say anything quotably disrespectful. 

It was about three and a half hours by bus from our hotel in Bucharest to our destination city of Braşov in Transylvania. (I found the Romanian keyboard.) Friend Brian would be proud of my aggressiveness. The bus had three pairs of seats with an unusual amount of leg room. I managed to claim two (actually four, including Peggy and Curt) of these seats all three days of the Transylvania trip. In truth, I believe I was the only one (beyond our Dutch group leader) with legs long enough to care.

The Carpathians are not particularly high, with the highest peaks over 8,000 feet, but are quite rugged, rugged enough to keep empires mostly on one side or the other.

On both the trip to and the return from Transylvania, we passed a place of importance to WW II veterans and history buffs—the Ploiești oil fields and refineries. In an attempt to destroy this vital source of petroleum to Germany’s forces, 176 U.S. B-24 bombers flew from Libya to attack this asset. The Germans (and Romanians) were ready. A majority of bombers were shot down or badly damaged. We passed the complex in which many of the crashed air crews were held after the raid.

Our first stop (OK, not counting the coffee/bathroom stops that are de rigueur for traveling septua and octogenarians) was to visit the summer residence of King Carol I, Peles Castle. It was built in 19th century German Renaissance style and its grand halls decorated in Florentine and Moorish styles. It was also the first European castle to have central heating and electricity.

We stopped for lunch at Cantacuzino Castle. Sister Peggy got particularly excited as this is the location where the TV series “Wednesday” is shot. Lunch, I might add, followed a consistent pattern for almost all our Romanian mid-day meals: an excellent soup or stew (quite enough for a complete meal), a main course (good sides but too-dry chicken or turkey or pork), followed by a delicious dessert.

We finally reached our destination for lodging for the next two nights,  Braşov‘s Aro Palace Hotel. Otherwise quite nice, there were minor room maintenance problems. On the other hand, the hotel’s restaurant, just recently opened, was excellent. 

Our second day in Transylvania was another full one. First stop (after a two-hour ride) was the well-preserved, fortified, medieval hilltop town of Sighișoara. We had the luxury of taking a tram up to the site. That saved us the energy to climb the town’s 14th century clock tower. The town, by the way, was the birthplace of Vlad Țepeș, aka  Vlad the impaler, aka Dracula. (By the way, Vlad was a minor king, not a count, and until betrayed by the king of Hungary, wreaked havoc upon the ruling Ottoman Turks.) We ate lunch (another three course affair) in the Casa Vlad Dracul restaurant. The menu is worth noting. All three courses were local specialties. The first was bean soup in a bread bowl, delicious and twice enough for a full meal. The second course was escalope, good but again with meat too dry for our taste (pork in this case). And the dessert? A calorie bomb to die for, papanași, more or less a giant donut with berries and cream.

Our final visit for the day was to the 13th century fortified church Prejmar. Every village resident was assigned a room inside the fortification to live in during sieges. There was even a school room and other rooms for carrying on life during these sieges.

Too tired and still too full to go into town that evening for supper, we again patronized the hotel restaurant and shared a single appetizer as our meal (with wine, of course). Our appetizer was a very large portion of steak tartar, more than enough to avoid feeling like we were skimping.

Yet our trip to Transylvania was not done. Our last morning was a visit to Bran Castle, also known as Dracula’s castle, erected in the 13th century. The fortress is both a tourist oriented fun-house of Dracula myths and legends and the 1920’s summer royal residence of Queen Marie of Romania. (Odd coincidence that Bran Castle and Dracula author Bram Stoker nearly share names.) By the way, Bram Stoker didn’t make up his tale solely from his imagination. Much of the Dracula story was borrowed from Romanian myths and legends and some macabre Hungarian history, such as the countess who allegedly killed hundreds of girls to harvest their blood to keep herself looking beautiful.

We had lunch on the premises, another three course meal. I can say they finally got the meat right, i.e. tender, which is probably unfortunate in that we consumed all of all the courses. When we returned to Bucharest that afternoon, the four of us headed for a gelato dinner, two scoops each.

Our last night was again spent in the Intercontinental hotel in Bucharest. The good news? By luck, Frances and I were assigned a very large, beautiful room. The bad news? We had no chance to enjoy it. We had to get up in time for our 2:30 a.m. transport to the airport.

I write these notes on the longer leg of our flight back, Frankfurt to Austin. While this is a long blog and I know I lost most of my readers twenty minutes ago, I feel obliged to add some summary comments. (It’s a long flight and sleep does not come easily for me on airplanes.)

I don’t know who arranged the weather for our trip but for the entire journey the weather was varied from near perfect to absolutely perfect. The first week the rains ended each day the day before we arrived at our destination. By the time we got to  Bulgaria and Romania, it was indian summer (is that still allowable to say?).

Gohagan, the tour company, was nearly faultless in its arrangements, including several private tours on days a museum or castle are normally closed. Until the trip started I was not overly impressed by their service but the onsite personnel were excellent: Wim (“Vim”, a Dutchman) and Srdjan (you guessed it, Serbian). I would not hesitate to use Gohagan again (except perhaps for air and private transfers, too pricey; we did our own). The same complement can be given to the local guides. One of the guest speakers was excellent; the other, meh.

The highlights of the trip: there were many. The Hungarian horsemen come to mind. And perhaps because the visit was last and done in a bit more depth, we really liked Romania, particularly Transylvania. Dracula would be pleased.

An aside. At least a dozen times this trip I have opened water bottles for my wife and others. Just now, on the plane, I could not open my or my wife’s bottle. I handed it to the pint-sized  female flight attendant, who quickly and efficiently screwed the cap off. I am officially old.

OK, I’m finally done. Our next trip? An oddly tame one, perhaps. For all our traveling, Frances and I have been to only a couple of the Caribbean islands. This winter we are set to visit fifteen island nations and territories. I’m not sure how much of it I will record in the blog. But don’t fear (or do fear). Next spring we head to India and Nepal and next summer to Australia (for a third time), China, Mongolia and maybe a few countries in between. Our adventures continue.

Thanks for reading. 

Our guide sternly corrected me. I had always assumed that Romanians derived their name from their long ago heritage of being a part of the Roman Empire. This thought had been reinforced by the fact that the Romanian language is a Latin-derived one, like Italian or Spanish, the only such language in Eastern Europe. Communist revisionist history, grumped our guide, Bogdan. I guess both I and Wikipedia are wrong. But, for once, I didn’t argue. Bogdan has been an outstanding guide for our group.

We said goodbye to the crew of the Amadeus Nova on Sunday morning and bused the two plus hours to the capital of Romania, Bucharest. Bogdan, who on the previous day had given us a cliff notes summary of the history of Romania from its beginnings until the World War I era, continued his tutoring, covering from the end of that war through the revolution that toppled the Communist government in 1989. His parents struggled greatly under the communists, so his opinion of that era is clear. Unlike many in the younger generation, many of whom are waxing nostalgically for a society they never experienced, he knows what a terrible period that was. (Free rent! Free education! No unemployment! Yes, and no heat for the apartment, electricity three hours a day, a ration of 2 pounds of meat a month, and nothing to buy with the money they were paid, etc.)

We started with a bus tour of the heart of the city, with sections dominated by communist era buildings and other areas with the attractive homes and buildings constructed during the time between Romania’s independence from the Ottomans in 1877 and the world wars. While many in the latter category were destroyed during the communist era, those taken over by senior communist and government officials survived (and mostly are back in the hands of the descendants of the previous owners).

After lunch at the Casa Donna Restaurant, we were taken to the open air Village Museum. In it are representative homes and other structures gathered from throughout Romania and reconstructed in the museum. It is advertised as the largest such museum in Europe.

We then drove to and checked into the Athens Palace Hotel for two nights.

Monday morning we visited the Palace of the Parliament. It is colossal, second only to the Pentagon in size and, by weight, the largest building in the world. It was the pet project of the Communist dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu, cost billions of dollars to construct and required the removal (with one week’s notice) of twenty thousand residents. It’s not yet complete. Its maintenance runs more than a billion dollars a year. Even with the Romanian president, senate, and chamber of deputies and all their associated administrative functions, the palace is far from filled. Still, it’s impressive.

For the afternoon, we walked the few feet from our hotel to the National Art Museum, once the Romanian royal palace. (As the leading families of Romania could not agree among themselves who should be king, they chose a German prince, Carol (Charles)). I failed to take a picture of the building except from across the avenue.

By all accounts King Carol I was a competent, conscientious and popular ruler and under this reign Romania prospered. Romania remained a kingdom from 1881 to 1947, when the Communists threatened to execute 1000 students who had been arrested for protesting, if the king did not cede power to the communists. He did.

The palace/museum is normally closed on Mondays but the trip operators provided for the museum to be open just for us. Our only disappointment was that the coronation room was not open for viewing due to a special event.

That evening was the farewell reception for the main tour group. The Gohagen tour operators made the mistake of providing tables to sit at and ample appetizers, so everyone made a full meal of the offerings. A third of us, 46 by count, are heading for several days in Transylvania. Dracula, here we come.

Ovid, we have arrived.

We had low expectations for our visit to Constanta. On our Black Sea cruise of 2014, when I asked why there was no stop in Romania, the group leader declared “There is nothing much to see in Constanta.” Wrong. We had a thoroughly excellent visit to this, the largest Black Sea port. (In fact, several score ships were loitering off the port, loaded with Ukrainian grain and waiting to unload).

It was a 90 minute drive from Fetesti, where our ship was docked for the day (and the coming night), to Constanta. Our guide was superb. This was particularly good news as he is to be our guide for the remainder of our time in Romania. 

An aside on how we are organized for our day tours: The twelve graduate associations with participants on this cruise have been divided into four groups, a separation that has been maintained throughout the trip. We (West Point Association of Graduates) have been paired with the “National Trust” group as the “blue group”, with, for each tour, an assigned guide and bus. While evening meals have open seating, most tables tend to be occupied by birds of a feather. I know, TMI.

We finished our visit to Constanta with a late lunch at a restaurant on the Black Sea. Salad, soup, pork ribs, two types of chicken, dessert, and a steady flow of wine. Yet another light lunch.

Some added tidbits: In an early blog posting I said that I knew none of the other West Point grandfathers on the trip. That proved not to be the case. Sam Wilson, a graduate of 1966, and I were in the same cadet company his last two years and my first two. Neither of us remembers the other. Obviously I kept a satisfactorily low profile my plebe year and his senior year he was on battalion staff, hence not in the company area. Still, I should have remembered an upperclassman. It was a requirement that plebes know the names of all upperclassmen in one’s company. He (and his wife) became doctors.

We have been really, really lucky with our weather. At almost every cruise stop, the previous day had been rainy and even windy. By our arrival, the weather was clear and, for the last several days, unseasonably warm. I’ve even broken out my short sleeve shirts. I only hope I haven’t jinxed our luck for the rest of the trip.

With Constanta, our time on the Amadeus Mozart has come to an end. The last two days of the standard trip are to be spent in Romania’s capital, Bucharest. Then a subset of the group, including us, will be traveling the Transylvania for several days. Dracula, here we come. 

This is our second visit to Bulgaria and quite different from the first, which comprised two visits to Bulgaria’s Black Sea port cities. (This occurred just after Russia invaded the Crimea in 2015, changing our Black Sea cruise itinerary considerably. I really did want to visit Yalta and Sevastopol, but Putin cancelled all this. We were lucky to get to Odessa.) This trip we docked temporarily at the village of Nokopoi and bused two hours into the interior of the country to visit Veliko Tarnovo. Veliko Tarnovo was the capital of the Second Bulgarian Empire between the 12th and 14th centuries.

The road was rough for the first hour of the ride, traveling through areas in which rural and small village houses were decaying from neglect and abandonment. Bulgaria has lost 20% of its population since the end of the communist regime and with the current low birth rate won’t recover soon.

A shot from the bus of a cave opening. Approaching town, we saw an interesting fence display.

We did not know what to expect on arrival in Veliko Tarnovo but, frankly, we were disappointed that our tour did not include a visit to the Tsarevets Fortress above town nor any significant structures in the city. Rather, we were led through the market area of town, the inclined Samovodska Charishia Street, which delighted the shoppers in the group, but did little for Frances and me. 

After a lunch in a city restaurant we were driven to the high plateau village of Arbanasi for a visit to two interesting and historical structures.

The first was the 17th century Konstantsaliata House, a preserved home from that Ottoman period.

Even more interesting was our visit to the Nativity of Christ Church. This church is one of the very rare churches constructed (in stages) during the Ottoman occupation. Hence its modest exterior, a lack of dome and a lack of an exterior cross. 

We docked at the town of Donji Milanovac, down river from Belgrade. A relatively small city of 2,000, it is also the newest city in Serbia, at least in its current location. The town has moved three times, the first after destruction by the Ottomans, the second from an island that frequently flooded, and the third and most recent forced relocation due to the damming of the river to construct a hydroelectric plant.

Lepenski Vir

But we were not here to visit the city. Rather, we disembarked to be bused to Lepenski Vir, a Paleolithic and Mesolithic site on the right bank of the Danube a few miles from the city. Discovered in 1960, the area contains the largest and most significant prehistoric archeological site in the world from the Stone Age. Only we really didn’t see the site directly. The hydro plant project left the original site under 35 feet of water.

Nevertheless, many of the artifacts uncovered from the site, including a considerable number of the structures were moved to higher ground and reconstructed in an impressive museum. All the reconstructions are of the original materials in their original positions.

Besides the exhibits ranging from the earliest known sculptures of humans to hundreds of uncovered (and formally buried) skeletons, what might be most impressive is what we have learned about this culture. Apparently, the village existed for 2500 years, beginning 10,000 years ago. Succeeding generations buried at least some of their dead in the center of their structures then built again on top. From examination of the skeletal remains, the people were very healthy (with near perfect teeth and no evidence of disease or deprivation in the remains), long lived (one skeleton was determined to be in his eighties when he died), relatively tall (males averaged 5’6” with one determined to be 6’6” tall), and free of indication of injuries. No weapons were found at the various locations associated with the site. It’s hard to believe such a civilization survived for two and a half millennia. No one knows why these people disappeared after that time.

It’s pretty clear we’ve crossed a line, from Central Europe to Eastern Europe, from the influences of German, Austrian, Hungarian and Roman cultures to Byzantine, Russian and Ottoman ones, from Roman Catholic to Orthodox religions, from eagerly to reluctantly capitalist  and liberal democratic societies. Or, more accurately, in the Balkan lands of all these influences, the weight of the cultures tilts east when you get to Serbia. To reinforce this impression, Serbia, unlike the countries we have visited earlier in the trip, is not in the Schengen borderless passport area nor, for that matter, in the EU or the eurozone or NATO, which bombed sites in Serbia in 1999 to end the civil wars.

Belgrade’s 640,000 citizens are about a quarter of Serbia’s population. The refugees from the 1990’s civil wars swelled Belgrade’s population, as does the migration of rural populations to this and other cities. Overall, however, Serbia is losing many of its best and brightest to countries with higher paying opportunities.

Still, Serbia is a proud country which is looking forward to the future while both celebrating and defending its turbulent heritage.

We were scheduled to spend a full day in the city, starting with a four-hour bus tour, with stops at several significant sites. The afternoon was to be free time to explore on one’s own. Thanks to incredibly heavy traffic, the morning tour was closer to five hours in duration, so we were among the fair-sized contingent who became lazy and did not go back into the city in the late afternoon. I understand we missed some excellent street musicians.

The first stop on the bus tour was at Belgrade’s Kalemegdan fortress, located on the heights above the city and the confluence of the Danube and Sava Rivers. Occupied since well before Roman times, it is estimated that over six million military (and civilians in the way) died over the last 2000+ years attacking and defending the citadel.

Two cities in two different countries in one day is testing my blogging skills, but here goes. Several hours after departing Vukovar, Croatia we reached Novi Sad, Serbia. This roughly translates to “New Garden” or “New Life”. It’s the second largest city in Serbia, about 280,000 citizens or so. While the 1999 war with NATO resulted in damage to some infrastructure such as bridges and oil depots, the city escaped most damage from the world wars and civil conflicts. The central old city, mostly 18th and 19th century architecture, is quite attractive.

The feature dominating any approach by river, however, is the Petrovaradin Fortress. This extensive fortification includes more than 10 miles of tunnels and interlocking batteries and strong points. It’s the second largest such fortress in Europe (after Sedan). Our bus tour drove around the structure.

The old town is a ten minute walk from the docking site. It’s best to convey the sights with a few photos.

Not all tourist stops are beauty, culture, and elegant history. There is the darker side of human history and not all of it far in the past. Such was our reminder of this during our stop at the Croatian town of Vukovar, once a prosperous city of 40,000 nestled along the banks of the Danube River. In 1991, Croatia declared independence from Serbia-dominated Yugoslavia. Serbia reacted by attacking Vukovar (and much else of Croatia that the Serbian leadership wanted to remain in control of). For 100 days, the Croatians of Vukovar held out. 90% of the city was destroyed, much of the population fled, and at least 5,000 sent to concentration camps in Serbia. Many never returned. In their rage over the stiff resistance, the Serbians murdered most of the surviving defenders. Over 1000 missing solders and civilians are still unaccounted for. The Croatians regained control of Vukovar in 1997 after the Dayton agreements ended the conflict.

Of course, in that war and the Bosnian war that followed, war crimes were committed by all parties. Yet the destruction of Vukovar stands out as a reminder of the worst of it all.

Thought I would add a video to the blog showing some marvelous horsemanship.

What a grand day! After three capitals, with their magnificent palaces, cathedrals and promenades, we headed to the more rural environs of central Hungary. We were scheduled for a full day of sights and entertainment, plus local wines and cuisines, and it all proved enjoyable and informative. And exhausting. Frances is napping before supper, as I start this draft with but one eye still open.

Kalosca is a town of 18,000 and has the feel of even less. It’s located near the eastern bank of the Danube, in the “Puszta”, the Great Plains of Hungary and an important agriculture region of the country. The first part of our tour focused on the cathedral and the historic library of the archbishop of Hungary.

The original library was destroyed and its contents confiscated by the conquering Turks, but the library was rebuilt after that time. It’s an impressive collection of medieval and renaissance era books. (Only two of the original collection were ever returned by the Turks. Apparently, repatriation of pilfered cultural artifacts only works in one direction.) As a random aside, I always thought a tour of the world’s magnificent libraries would be a fantastic endeavor.

The Cathedral of St. Mary is the fourth to occupy the position since the first was constructed starting in 1001. That first one was quickly outgrown, but the second was destroyed by the Mongols and the third by the Turks. The cathedral’s history reflects the turbulent history of this part of the world.  The current one is of a beautiful and, for this region, rare Baroque design.

A special treat was an organ concert in the cathedral. The organ has 6,000 pipes and the acoustics of the church accommodate the sound well. We heard pieces by Bach, Vivaldi, Mendelssohn, Franck and at least one other. (Outside the cathedral is a statue of the composer Frank Liszt, shown two pictures above and at least the third we’ve seen this trip. Apparently he is the “Washington slept here” equivalent in this area of Europe.)

We then again boarded our buses and were driven to a large farm where we were entertained in several ways. The first “show” was dancing, performed by a young Hungarian couple in traditional costumes.

The next feature was to visit the farm’s paprika museum. Maybe every good cook knows, but I had no clue this pepper (originally from Mexico) is a major agricultural product of Hungary. Apparently the summers are hotter than I would have thought.

After a snack and a large glass of wine we moved to stands to watch a show of horsemanship. The highlight was watching one rider, standing on the back of two horses (a foot on each, obviously), drive a team of ten horses, all only loosely tethered, at a full gallop. I understand the current record is twenty horses at once. I hope any horse fans reading this (Alice?) are impressed. I was.