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.
