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A Journey to Romania
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part I
by Marcus Hanke
During the last years, some of my favourite travel destinations, have become increasingly unsafe. In the Sahara regions, the risk of being kidnapped, wounded or killed by either criminal, or, worse even, politically and/or religiously radicalised groups has raised considerably. Reason enough to look for alternatives, it is a good thing that the European Union has grown so quickly. Several new EU member states now offer an easy travelling, with barely any bureaucracy or difficulties at the borders - if the latter still exist at all. The small ID card is enough to pass through 27 states, in many of them it is not even necessary to change money, thanks to the Euro.
And for our most faithful travel companions, the dogs, the times of multi-lingual veterinary confirmations and documents, and time-consuming examinations is over as well (with the exception of a few member states, but even there, the currently necessary effort is nothing, compared to the hurdles that had to be overcome some years ago!). They are the first true EU citizens, having an own, blue EU passport, which contains picture, personal details, and a list of all vaccinations.
So we looked at a map of Europe, and chose a very old and fascinating country for this year’s vacation: Romania.
Having worn the dubious title of “Europe’s poorhouse” for a long time, Romania’s economy has gained a substantial impetus since the country joined the EU in 2007. It is only a question of time, until the country will reach the more advanced standards of infrastructure and tourism industry of Central Europe. Therefore, if we want to see the more original, “pure” Romania, we should not hesitate too long.
Already the preparation of the trip reveals that the country is large, and has really many sights and landmarks to offer. Three weeks won’t be enough to get more than a superficial impression, but we do our best to plan a route that touches the most interesting areas: the Maramures, the Northern region bordering Ukrainia, the historical Moldovanian province, with its world-famous painted monasteries, the gigantic delta of the Danube, ending in the Black Sea, and, of course, Transsilvania, the land of the Carpatian mountains, with its numerous historical sites and great landscapes.
A further difficulty is the lack of good maps. All existing maps have in common to only superficially mirror the reality; many roads shown by them do not exist, many roads existing are not shown on the maps. The same is even valid for complete villages. There is a rather recent road atlas, which is the base of our preparations. But when it goes into closer detail, especially when planning routes on simple tracks, we still have to rely on the old 1:500,000 scale Soviet military maps. During the Cold War, the Soviet Union launched a global mapping project, producing detailed topographic maps from all countries in the world. While for the Western world, its main sources remained limited to spy satellite and aerial imagery, the former Warsaw Treaty countries could be measured on the ground by expert teams. As a result, these maps, in spite of being thirty to forty years old, still are the best maps available for large parts of the world, including much of Eastern Europe. It is nearly impossible to get a hand on a printed edition, but thankfully, the whole collection has been scanned and calibrated for use with specific navigation software, such as Fugawi.
Our trip preparations included another novelty: This vacation would be the maiden voyage of our new expedition vehicle, the all-terrain truck named “Ar Gwenn” (which simply means “The White” in Breton language). Up to now, all our voyages were made with our faithful Nissan Terrano SUV and a tent. Yet, slowly, but steadily, we grew weary of the often frustrating search for places that would accommodate both car and tent, of erecting the latter in rain, cooking outside, crawling out of the tent in the morning again, with stiff back and limbs, only to be greeted by the warm tongues of our dogs .....
We therefore decided to retire our dear Nissan from the role of a travel vehicle, and replace it with something offering just space enough to cook, eat and sleep, without having to stick out a nose, while retaining the Nissan’s excellent off-road capabilities.
The solution was the acquisition of an Italian light truck, a Bremach. This small company, located in Brescia, near the Garda lake in Northern Italy, has specialised on the production of compact, but highly robust and off-road capable trucks, that are needed for narrow tracks in the Alps, and the passage through small, medieval villages and towns. With only 1.7 meters width and about 5.5 meters length, these trucks are able to pass through narrowest gaps in forests and mountains, a permanent four-wheel drive with 28 speeds to shift, full array of diff locks, large tires and a standard Iveco truck diesel engine, with a gross weight that still remains below the legally important limit of 3.5 tons, the Bremach Extreme is the perfect base for a travel vehicle.
"Gwenn" in PuristSpro livery represents the community during the 2008 Basel watch fair
After we had purchased the base vehicle already in October 2007, the various modifications and installations needed nearly a year to be completed. A trip to more distant destinations, such as the Middle East, or the Sahara, appeared a bit too risky, with a vehicle that had not been tested before. In case of technical problems, we did not want to be too far away from assistance. To stay in Europe seemed to be a very good choice, and Romania offers the right mixture of proximity and adventure for this task.
Interior views
To start with a summary
The voyage through Romania offered us marvellous insights and perspectives. The variety of great landscapes, the friendliness of the people are overwhelming. After our return, many people came asking: “How was it?”, and inevitably we bored them with long and detailed replies. However, it is impossible to sum up the experience Romania in a few sentences.
First of all, it was the vacation with the worst weather I ever had. Friends of mine had travelled through Romania just before we went there, our paths crossed somewhere in Hungary. They had sunshine all the time, heat with temperatures of over 40 degrees Celsius. But we did not have one day of 23 without at least several hours of rain. On no day the high temperature surpassed 20 degrees Celsius, with morning temperatures being always under 5 degrees, just above freezing point. Normally, in September it is very hot and sunny on the Black Sea coast, but we saw trees without leaves, mist, rain, perfectly depressing November weather.
As a consequence, our off-road material had severe problems. One might not believe this, but the very bad roads and tracks in Romania are among the most difficult to drive in Europe. One reason for this is the relative absence of modern machinery and tractors in many parts of the Romanian agriculture. Therefore, most tracks are used by horse and donkey carriages only, and some have never seen a combustion-engined vehicle before.
Still common means of transport in Romania
They are narrow, with deep holes and trenches resulting from the wooden wheels, and a day with rain is enough to transform them into streams full of deep mud. This mud filled the profile of our all-terrain tires in seconds, until they were smooth like racing slicks, with absolutely no grip for the wheels remaining. It would not matter how many wheels are powered, they simply all are turning without any efficiency.
We had some really dangerous situations, gliding down the steep hills, without any way to influence the direction. As a consequence, we avoided all tracks that might eventually become muddy, which seriously limited our ability to reach beautiful places, because all the tracks in Romania are potentially muddy.
The lesson we learned: next time, we will have rougher tires, and additionally chains for the wheels, even if those weigh a ton and need hours to be attached.
Are the Romanian people as poor as many in the Western parts think? No, everything depends on the definition of “poverty”. If you are poor, if you cannot afford meals in four star-restaurants, or a Patek Philippe watch, then most Romanians are poor. However, the very strong social solidarity that is still binding the people together is apparent. Old people are supported, rather than sent into a so-called “retirement residence”, where barely anybody cares about them. The assistance offered as part of a normal everyday life has to be paid over here, where social ties have dissolved. Additionally, the definition of vital necessities is different as well. For us, a car might be vital, for the average Romanian farmer, a good horse is enough.
No, I did not see real poverty in Romania, but I admit not having visiting the large cities, where the situation is certainly different, especially in Bucharest. But I saw hard-working people, trying to keep their homes neat and clean, and proud of what they achieved with their own hands work. Astonishingly, many people here in Austria and Germany do not want to hear what I am saying, for them, Romania is still a poor-house full of thieves. They only hear what they want to believe, even if it is far from reality.
Large wooden gates and carved ornaments are typical for the Maramures farmhouses
Very old, but beautiful farmhouse
And what about the vampires? Honestly, I have seen none. not even a bear, only a huge boar apparently not amused about us intruding his dining room under the huge oak trees. Not a singly farmhouse had adorned its windows and entrances with garlic, and dark castles remained dark and silent. The modern vampires occupied the fuel stations, 1.30 Euros for a liter of diesel meant sucking the financial blood from our veins ...
Finally, the travel report
Our travel route - the thin cyan-coloured line
Romania’s landscape is mostly shaped by the arc of the Carpatian mountains, which is the easternmost appendix of the Alps. While the summits are not as high as those in the central Alps, the Carpatians offer a lot of highly impressive sights.
Additionally, of course, there is the historical importance of Romania, that found itself in the middle of the interest of many people and nations: Romans conquered it from the former Dacian reign, Byzantine, Slavic, Hungarian, Osman, German and Russian people settled there, and up to now, many of the various languages is widely spoken in Romania. Aside the mountains, the country also possesses the estuary of Europe’s longest river, the Danube. Millions of tons of earth and mud material carried by the stream are also the reason why Romania is the only country in Europe that is constantly growing, since the estuary - and therefore the length of the Danube - increases its area into the Black Sea for several meters each year. This Danube delta is a world-renown landmark and ecologic marvel, and of course a must-see for us, despite the long way to go there.
About potholes and a merry graveyard
Yet we start in the North, a province called Maramures. We are welcome by a seemingly neverending series of roadworks. It is apparent that a lot of money is invested to improve the infrastructure, which is really necessary. Most road surfaces are heavily damaged, Romanian potholes are huge craters able to swallow complete cars. Older roads consist of pre-produced concrete elements, and were often made still in the communist era of the infamous president Ceaucescu. The elements disintegrated into heaps of debris over the years, sometimes the plates would simulate the tectonic movement of the continents, shifting over each other, resulting into veritable skijumps, that catapult careless drivers and their cars into the air, only to send them to the ground, with nasty noises and a rain of sparks emerging from the abused bodies. Compared with this, the inconvenience of waiting at the various roadworks seems tolerable.
Village road during rain - have a good sail!
At first, leaving the main road onto one of the many gravel roads seems to be the better alternative, but the potholes there would give a generations of astronomers a completely new impression of “black holes”. Yet our truck with its two rigid axles and leaf springs appears to feel very comfortable, as springs and shock absorbers are merrily squeaking all the way long. While we are enjoying the comfort of pneumatically dampened seats, our two dogs learn how a rodeo rider feels atop a wild bull.
That some things are different here, is clearly shown in a small village named Sapanta, that presents a unique sight, the “happy churchyard”. More than seventy years ago, a woodcarver started to make crosses for the graves, all painted in bright colours (mostly blue, white and red), showing a scene from the deceased’s life, and telling their stories in humorous rhymes. Meanwhile, the churchyard is very famous, and the artist has found a “funny” grave there himself. Several successors ensure that the handcarved tradition will not die.
The power of religion
Everybody has heard about the medieval wooden churches of Norway. Barely known are the old churches of the Maramures, which do not stay behind their Scandinavian counterparts in beauty and artistic importance. Mostly dating from the 14th and 15th centuries, the wooden churchhouses were erected and used by the Romanian orthodox confession. Often they are located in romantic surroundings, gardens full of fruit trees, which also serve as graveyards; the eternal circle of death and life is thus very present.
Old church of Barsana
Poile church
What strikes us especially is the omnipresence and vividness of the spiritual life here. While in Western Europe, the Roman Catholic church, but also many Protestant confessions are dramatically suffering from a lack of young priests and visitors in the churches, with complete order communities in immediate danger of being extinguished, the Romanian orthodox church apparently does not have this problem: In many villages, even tiny ones, we encounter monasteries, and they all are full of monks and nuns. A new monastery in Barsana is erected in traditional style with wooden buildings; a large area with huge, impressive buildings.
The newly established Barsana monastery
A large number of Romanians is working abroad, mostly in Italy, France and Spain. They send home a major share of their incomes, which is partially donated to the Church. As a result, the sight of newly built, large churches is very common. On Sundays, we see the crowds walking many kilometers from the mountains to attend the services, a sight that has become very rare in Western Europe.
Monastery in construction
Third-rank roads, and where they lead to
At home, people complain about the increasing number of roadsigns cluttering the environment. As a car driver, it becomes difficult to read all the information at a glance. Thus, we should be grateful for the nearly complete absence of roadsigns in Romania. However, navigation is not really improved, if the maps show villages that are not where they are supposed to be, and we are passing a village without any name signs, that does not correspond with any map.
So we were left to ourselves, when we followed a small road that was designated the third rank on the map, trying to find a cozy and lonely place to staying over night. On the paper, the course of the road looked promising, yet failed to keep this in reality. Up it led, into the mountains, when the concrete gave way to gravel and finally to mud and stones. Finally, we found ourselves on a beautiful plain, a high meadow we only shared with a small river and a white horse, that followed our arrival with no sign of being impressed, before continuing to graze.
The "third-rank road" can be seen as the path leading into the small river
This place was perfect for setting up a camp, but, as nearly every night, it started raining after midnight. The following day, we only had the choice to return on the same track we had come, or to try the bad-looking path that crossed the river and disappeared in the forest. After we checked this direction during an extended dog walk, we decided to give it a try.
When we reached the settlements and the paved main road later, we had spent more than two hours for fifteen kilometers ...
Continue to Part 2
This message has been edited by Marcus Hanke on 2014-02-26 00:49:24
While working ourselves down from the mountains again, the slow approach into “civilisation” was clearly observable: at first, all we saw were cows, goats, and some horses. Later, we encountered some wrecked cars rusting aside the track, even later followed by a few badly battered, but still usable ones, until finally, the sight of some rather new, undamaged cars announced the proximity of something that would more justifiably carry the designation “road”.
This is a good opportunity to mention another Romanian uniqueness, its cars, especially the Dacia. This ubiquitous means of transportation is the hidden engine of Romania’s everyday life. Originally, the Dacia was an indigenously produced licence offspring of the old Renault 12. As a result of its simple and solid construction, about 2 million of them were produced between 1969 and 2004. Still many of these are driven, and presumably will continue to be for the next ten, twenty years. While the original design has only very moderately been upgraded, more recently the Dacia company was completely acquired by Renault, and is producing more modern constructions now. Since Romanian work hours are cheaper than in the rest of the EU, and the synergetic exploitation of Renault/Nissan technology is not expensive, the modern Dacia cars can be offered at a very cheap price. Originally, these cars were assigned for distribution in Eastern Europe only, where the average incomes are low. However, when the news about the new Dacias spread in Western Europe, a sudden and immense demand made clear that for most families there, an investment of more than 10- to 15,000 Euros for a car is a most serious issue as well. The managements of European car producers, while busy adding even more luxury accessories to their products, had completely overseen the fact that the cost of everyday life in Europe has risen sharply, but the salaries had not. As a result, Renault decided to offer the Dacia in Western Europe as well, creating a wave of orders, that only slowly can be fulfilled.
While I originally followed our Western tradition to arrogantly smile at the sight of the clumsy shapes of the older Dacias, during our voyage I developed highest respect for these tough cars. In fact, I cannot imagine anything that could destroy them. They are light, solid, with enough ground clearance to pass over the obstacles of corrugated tracks, and even after falling into one of the bad potholes, they won’t be seriously damaged. Up to eight people were seen squeezed into them, and when the car became stuck on a mountain track with the awful noise of metal scratching over stone, the four doors flung open, and released busy passengers who simply lifted the whole car over the obstacle, only to jump into the car again, which disappeared in a cloud of noise, smoke and dust ...
Belief, painted onto walls
Despite its cultural and natural richness, Romania offers only a few landmarks of undisputed worldwide fame, and among these, the painted Moldovian monasteries are clearly occupying the highest rank. These fortified monasteries were mostly founded in the early 16th century and feature strong walls, which offered a safe retreat for the neighbouring population during times of unrest and war. Far more important they are, however, for their overwhelmingly decorated churches. Not only their insides, but also their exteriors were covered over and over with bright frescoes, depictions of saints, places and religious scenes.
Moldovita monastery
It is clear that these outer walls served as a means of religious education of a mostly illiterate population, especially during important services, when the small churches were too small to accommodate all the visitors.
Sucevita monastery
When I was still at school, in the early Eighties, I saw a picture of one of the monasteries in a school book, and was immediately taken. I just HAD to go there, to see this marvel myself! Unfortunately, I had never the opportunity to fulfil this dream before, but when we discussed a good destination for this vacation, the picture of this monastery, of its small, brightly painted church amidst massive walls, located in the loneliness of Carpatian forests, immediately popped up in my memory; now or never.
Sucevita monastery
While the paintings deteriorated over the centuries, restoration began already during the reign of communist dictator Ceaucescu, and is now - assisted by the means offered by the UNESCO, as a result of all the monasteries being listed as World Cultural Heritage - approaching completion. Thus we are privileged to enjoy the richness of decoration and its vivid colours without our view being compromised by scaffoldings. Unfortunately, the Romanian orthodox symbology and iconography somewhat differs from that of the Roman Catholic tradition, so I do not recognise and understand many of the wonderful paintings.
Voronet monastery
While still more than twenty of these monasteries are located in this region in the country’s North-Easter corner, which is now called the Bukovina, we only visit the four most famous ones: Moldovita, Sucevita, Humor and Voronet, the latter even gained the reputation of being the “Sixtin Chapel of the East”. Besides being museums, the monasteries are still active order communities, so we see many nuns in their black gowns. Apparently, these ladies have sworn to never smile again, since they all appear very serious, even humour-free. I know that I am far from being a womaniser, but a lady that would not return my smile is a rarity. But maybe my physical appearance is so distant from the nuns’ aesthetic ideals, that they all prefer to stare at me thin-lipped, when I greet them with a broad grin. What I pity, I would have liked to shoot a nice portrait of a smiling nun ...
People with mysterious origin
Turning into South-West direction again, we now enter the region of the Székely, this is how they name themselves. Most apparent sign of their presence is the domination of the Hungarian language. I was not astonished to find a Hungarian minority in Romania, since the country borders to Hungary, and has long-standing historical connections with it. However, the presence of Hungarian-speaking people here, in the very center of Romania, was surprising. In fact, the Székely have nothing to do with Hungary, but are of a much older origin, that is disputed among experts until today.
One hint into the right direction might be the weird-looking inscriptions on some road signs, that strangely resemble runes used by Teutonic tribes or the Vikings. But what have Hungarians to do with Vikings? Nothing at all. A short research leads to similar types of rune alphabets, that were used by the Phoenician people in the ancient times, which spread to Central Asia. There, the early Turk tribes, from which later the infamous Huns and much later the Osmanic people developed, also used very similar rune alphabets.
Street sign with Székely runes. This picture was made by my friend Harry (Wildwux at
Unfortunately, our younger dog, a sheepdog from the Spanish Pyrenees, did not read all the stories before our departure, so with loud barks, our cute, but naive Ulysse sped forward to confront the “intruders”. Luckily for him, the two stock protectors only glanced at their master, who just smiled at the canine counterpart of a Tasman Devil assaulting, and without a sign from him, the two four-legged nemesis remained inactive. Some meters in front of their fangs, Ulysse realised the the fact that only the discipline of his adversaries stood between him and his sudden end as tiny pieces, and - still barking to save his face - retreated behind our large Belgian sheepdog Chagall; should he deal with the Romanians ...
The shepherds live in tiny huts up there in the mountains, together with their stock. Only during the winter, they stay at home, in the valleys. Most of them have own houses and farms, which are managed by the rest of their families during their absence. They are all very friendly and curious, I am sad of not being able to talk with them.
Typical track and shepherd's hut at Ragul Pass
Blown away from the Danube estuary
Leaving the mountains, we keep the car’s nose directed towards the estuary of the river Danube, in the far East of the country. This huge delta is a landmark unique in Europe, and as a whole protected as a national park. Before it feeds the Black Sea after flowing for 2,800 kilometers and passing seven countries, the Danube divides into three large arms, between which are more than 5,500 square kilometers of marshland, water, swamp and sand. Many endangered species live here, both animals and plants. For the most part, only boats can access the area, there are barely any paved roads in the delta, and only a few tracks.
Water pigs Chagall and Ulysse bathing in a Danube arm
We had planned our visit there to be a great time, wanted to use a small track studied in the satellite imagery on Google Earth, to stay aside one of the thousands of small channels, and to observe the local birdlife. But once again, weather has different plans: We arrived in the delta by taking a ferry over the main arm of the Danube, then rain and strong winds come over us. The track we had planned to follow - as all the tracks in the region - normally consists of raw earth and dust; no problem in dry conditions, but more than problematic after many days of frequent rain. To go there alone, with no other car to assist in case of being hopelessly stuck, just seems too risky. With deep regrets we therefore turn Southward, and decide to visit some of the old Greek settlements instead.
In the classic times, Greek merchants travelled along the Black Sea coast and founded trading posts and towns wherever this deemed profitable to them. Some of these settlements were later inhabited by Romans, Byzantine citizens, and finally Osman muslims, before the ongoing collection of earth material transported by the Danube filled the harbours and cut them off their access to the sea. Today, some of them are excavated and shown to the public. A friend of mine had sent me the coordinates of one of these excavations, according to him, there is a perfect and tranquil place to stay over night there.
Taking cover in the storm near the ruins of an ancient Greek settlement
After a long search we finally find the correct track to the peninsula and the ruins of the Greek town. But instead of a sunny beach, we are greeted by rain and stormy gales with speeds of up to 90 kilometers per hour. It seems safer to cuddle behind a small hill, the night is cold and humid, the storm is banging onto the truck, seemingly trying to throw it over; no thought about sleeping that night. The next day, the long and apparently sandy track has become a line of bottomless mud. With reduced air pressure in the tires, all diff locks engaged, and many prayers to the god of the offroaders, we make our way back. Thanks, dear Bremach!
There is another Greek settlement, that has been excavated and transformed into a highly interesting museum: Histria. We were the only visitors there, and had ample time to study the ruins and explanatory signs.
Ruins of Histria
No, the Carpatian mountains still seems to be the better part to spend the holiday in. Back we go, to the West (young man), like a cowboy, directly into the direction of the setting sun - if we could make it out through the thick cover of rain clouds ...
Return to part 1
Continue to part 3
This message has been edited by Marcus Hanke on 2014-02-26 00:56:30
what a silence do these photographs communicate.
Must be a fantastic scenery to travel around.
Geo
Leaving the Danube estuary, we pay a very brief visit to the Black Sea coast, offering our dogs a chance to go bathing. At an age of four years, our Groenendael “Chagall” is the first dog of the family to have been swimming on both ends of Europe: In the West, he was in the waves of the Atlantic ocean in Portugal and France, now the rushes into the waters bordering on the Eastern end. However, he somewhat compromises the majesty of that truly moving moment, when peeing on a piece of stranded wood.
In this region we find a weird mixture of touristic seabath infrastructure, with high hotel towers and long beaches, and poor villages in the hinterland. There, we also encounter one of the few apparent problems that Romania has to overcome in order to be really attractive to more tourists: litter. As it seems, a central litter collection is lacking in many of the smaller settlements. Consequently, the villagers simply choose a place on the outskirts where they bring all the litter to, and leave it to the wind and the ubiquitous straying dogs to disperse it evenly over the landscape.
A not so beautiful sight: the Romanian litter problem
Sometimes, it is difficult to find a way under tons of empty bags, shards and beercans. This is very pity, especially in the face of the apparently massive investments into a better touristic infrastructure, which in my opinion will be in vain, as long as the people fail to understand that tourists do not want to spend their holidays within fields of litter.
Romania’s South is called Walachia, and is a traditionally agricultural area already since the ancient times. Its main feature is its featurelessness; it is absolutely flat, with barely a tree or bush disturbing the all-dominating horizontality.
This is not an ideal place to hide for a night; our large, white truck would be a huge sign, telling all people in a wide radius that tourists are sleeping there. The vast, grey area printed in the map shows a few promising, green spots, however. Hoping that these spots would be forests, we steer in their direction, and, indeed, we not only find a forest, but a place that could be a setting somewhere in J.R.R. Tolkien’s world Middleearth: It is more a garden than a forest, full of massive, old oak trees. Tall and dark they stand, dispersed in a harvested field that shines golden in the evening sun, observing us in unreadable tranquility.
We feel small and unimportant amidst their age and massive presence. In the center of the forest there is an empty clearing, surrounded by oaks in a perfect circle. How many centuries have they witnessed passing? Were they deliberately planted in this constellation? Why? As a place to celebrate? Or as a place of memory?
For one night, we feel safeguarded from storm and rain, and indeed, this is one of the very few nights remaining clear.
Volcanoes without heat
The next destination is lacking fame, but would earn it: the mud volcanoes near Buzau, on the Southern edge of the Carpatian arc. This region is geologically active, which is manifested by frequent earthquakes. Additionally, it is Europe’s richest oil reserve, or better: it was. The first industrially exploited oil source worldwide (in 1857) was discovered near the city of Ploesti, which then became Europe’s capital of oil.
Our own oil supply - great idea!
Still, the exploitation of crude oil is important, but has decreased since World War II. During our excursions in the nearby mountains, we find several drill holes, apparently deactivated and filled with thorny branches, to prevent cattle from drinking the poisoned water.
Without economic importance, the mud volcanoes have been left alone, and only since 2005 they are accessible by a paved road. Instead of spitting fire, lava and smoke, these small volcanoes thankfully limit themselves to lazily bubbling gas in small ponds of mud. So other than receiving a rather unusual skin cream coat, a jump into the craters would not cause any harm.
Yet the landscape is breathtaking, even without the infrequent releases or methane from the volcanoes. Here, the Carpatians are devoid of the elsewhere dominating forests, the sight we are confronted with would better fit to Spain, or any other arid country in the South. The volcano site itself is lacking any vegetation, many layers of muddy micro-eruptions have buried everything growing under tons of grey-brown material, that is now hard like stone. Phantastic, bizarre, are but some words coming to our minds when we walk around here.
Transsilvania: Fortified churches, castles, but no Dracula
Meanwhile our main direction is Westbound again, to home. But there is still a very important part of Romania we have not seen: Transsilvania. Located in the center of the Carpatian arc, this region has become famous and to a certain extent thrilling, because of the vampire myth. But before dealing with this, I’d like to point the attention of you, benevolent reader, to a culturally more interesting feature: the fortified churches.
During the middle-ages, settlers from various parts in Germany, here in their totality simply called “Saxons”, came to the Carpatians and settled here in the 12th and 13th centuries. While they were all Roman Catholic originally, they very early adopted the reformed confession in the 16th century, and found themselves in the middle of countless conflicts between barons, earls and cities of various confessions. To protect themselves from the permanent looting and burning, they decided to fortify their churches. While the erection of a mundane fortification needed the permission of the land-owning baron, such was not necessary when a simple wall was added to a church. However, the walls of these Saxon churches were much more than “simple”, and eventually became massive fortresses with several concentric rings of thick and high walls, with digs and even artillery bastions.
But most important of all were the food supplies: Integrated into the walls, and sometimes even the church building itself, were dozens of small storerooms, each one with individual access and stairs. They contained the food supplies and living quarters of the families of the community, while the cattle found ample grass to consume between the ring walls. This is how many of the villages survived many attacks and even sieges. The best preserved fortified churches can be found in Prejmer and Harman. Upon our arrival, the castle in Prejmer unfortunately is closed already for a long weekend, so we continue to Harman. This castle is highly impressive, with all the storerooms inside.
The fortified church of Harman
Store rooms integrated into the walls
Another interesting issue is that still many people are speaking German here. Since the communist regime did not entirely ban the use of the German language, it did not become out of use. Today, even many of the younger people speak and understand German, which has unexpectedly become a valuable asset: In Europe, people are getting older and older, but at the same time, the governments have cut a lot of the welfare budgets for the elderly, so it is increasingly difficult to assure a good care. While the purely medicinal care is of course guaranteed, the aged people mostly need a simple “helping hand”, someone who cooks and takes care of the laundry, or assists in changing cloths. This is why the young Romanians of German origin find many job opportunities in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Most elders do not speak foreign languages and need someone speaking German to deal with. The salaries of the Romanian assistants is lower than that of the local ones, and they send home a major share of their incomes. Part of this money is invested into the restoration of the old churches, which now are mostly in excellent condition.
Road sign of a small village in Transsilvania, with the name written in Romanian and German
In Rasnov, the medieval farmers have erected a complete fortress, similar as the fortified churches, but without church. The walls of the castle contain many small houses, which served as food stores and living quarters for the families, in times of war.
The so-called farmers' fortress in Rasnov
View over the roofs of the small storage houses in the Rasnov fortress
Finally, we reach a small village called Bran, with a nice castle on the hill. Immediately, the mass of tourists and small shops and stands is apparent, which is a somewhat a shock for us, because since the Moldovian monasteries we had not seen any tourist.
Bran castle
The solution is simple: Somehow, Bran castle has been attributed to the mythic Count Dracula. Nobody knows why, since it has nothing to do with Dracula, and has not been mentioned in Bram Stoker’s world famous novel. However, generations of avid Dracula fans were searching for the right castle, and maybe Bran, located in the dark and narrow valleys of Transsilvania, seemed to be the best choice. Since then, a veritable Dracula tourism has developed in the village.
Is there any historical Dracula? Well, yes and no. There is no historical vampire, and the vampire myth in fact does neither come from Transsilvania, nor are there any typical Transsilvanian tales of vampirism. The myth is often rooted to a certain Vlad Tepes, earl of Walachia during the 15th century. He has become known of being a merciless fighter against the Osman empire, that had conquered the Eastern Roman empire and its capital Constantinople (today Istanbul) in 1453, thus challenging the Holy Roman Empire in Europe. Vlad gained dubious fame when he ordered Osman captives to be impaled. This period of continuous war between Muslim and Christian troops in Europe was extremely bloody on both sides, but apparently, Vlad’s activities were extraordinarily violent, thus earning him the title “impaler”. In Romania, Vlad is still respected as a hero fighting for his country’s freedom against the Osman invaders, but Bram Stoker took him as inspiration for his “Dracula”. This name was derived from Vlad’s official byname “Draculea”, inherited from his father, Vlad Dracul.
Back to Bran castle, Vlad Tepes spent only three days there, so it is far from being “his” castle. This does not hinder the vampire fans travelling there, trying to catch a mild feeling of horror when buying an “authentic Dracula mug” ...
A new road without sense, and an old people without road
Leaving behind the tourism magnet, we find ourselves on one of the worst pieces of country roads encountered so far. Even the most courageous Dacia drivers only rarely dared to surpass walking speed, the concrete plates seemed to have been used in a large earthquake simulation. “Drum bun”, “good trip”, is the wish written on big signs when leaving any village in Romania. Roads like this give a deeper meaning to it. It is clear that since the days of Romania’s infamous dictator, Nicolae Ceaucescu, no money was invested in repairing this piece of infrastructure. Yet he left behind one really interesting road, which we want to use after another night spent in thick forest.
The “Trans-Fagaras” is a road passing the Carpatians at about 2,000 meters, in a most challenging location. To set himself a monument, Ceaucescu dreamed of a high alpine road, like they were built in Switzerland, Austria or Italy. During the Seventies, he ordered the Trans-Fagaras to be built, mostly by prisoners, many of whom died during the construction. While technically ambitious, and optically very impressive, this road was completely senseless from its economic aspect. Only a few dozens of kilometers to the West, there is an ancient pass through the Carpatians, that only reaches some 900 meters height, and has a good road. Since many centuries, the traffic between North and South is moving there, and there was no apparent need for another road.
Consequently, the Trans-Fagaras was never really frequented, since it is difficult to drive for heavy trucks, and has to be closed for several months in winter, since it is blocked by snow. Today, it is a nice road for sightseers, which is why we chose to use it.
For two days, it had not rained, so we hope to end our vacation in conditions worthy a late summer. However, temperatures fall again, it starts to freeze at night. On the Trans-Fagaras road we see barely another vehicle, some spots of snow appear at over 1,600 meters. On the top of the pass is a tunnel, leading to the Northern flank of the Carpatians. When leaving it, we suddenly stand in deep snow and thick fog; late summer, yeah.
Late Summer in Romania ...
Originally, we had planned to take another pass to the South again. 2,200 meters high, the Urdele pass is not paved, not even a gravel road, but a very corrugated track. At the sight of the snow here, 200 meters lower, we immediately cancel this plan, with deep regret.
We only pay a brief visit to the town Sibiu, the old German Hermannstadt. It had been awarded the title of “European Capital of Culture” in 2007, so most of its beautiful old quarters have been nicely restored.
Before leaving Romania, I have one place I really want to visit: the ruins of the Dacian capital. The Dacian people settled in Romania four thousand years ago, until the country was finally conquered by the Romans, around the year 100 A.D. Two hundred years before that, the Dacians had relocated their capital to a place that should make it invulnerable from attack and impossible to be conquered. At the very end of a long and narrow valley, in 1,200 meters height, several artificial platforms were made, on which the new capital with the name Sarmizegetusa Regia was built. It consisted of three main parts: the civilian town, the holy quarter with many temples, and the fortress in the middle. After the Roman emperor Traian besieged and finally conquered the town in 106 A.D., it was not devastated but used by Romans as well. But now, during the pax romana, the peace guaranteed by the Roman Empire, trade was more important than defence, and the secluded location of the city became an economic problem. Consequently, it was left deserted by the inhabitants, who went to a new town in the plains, and forgotten.
Until today, only a tiny part has been excavated, the temple quarter, and there, only the mural bases of walls and columns remained. The rest is still hidden under a dark and dense forest of centuries-old trees. Several years ago, only a footpath led to the site, which was later replaced by a rough track. Meanwhile, the UNESCO has listed it as World’s Cultural Heritage, and thus the track is currently widened and rebuilt, and will eventually become a regular paved road.
For us this means that for more than 20 kilometers, from the (modern) gate showing two Dacians and marking the limit of the old city’s territory, we have the joy of driving on a bad track, that has become devastated by heavy construction machines, and garnished with deep mud following several days of rain. We need two hours for this short distance, and our poor dogs are completely irritated, because of the massive jumps and bumps they are subjected to. Several times it appears as if we cannot continue, and I want to give up already, but my wife, who does the driving (during most of the vacations, she is the driver, I am the navigator), presses on; much to the astonishment of several road workers, standing aside and gazing at the strange sight of Gwenn working its way through the mud.
The "road" to the excavation site
Finally, no human being has been seen during the last ten kilometers, we reach the remnants of Sarmizegetusa Regia. Of the ancient fortress, only the massive ring wall is still visible, the buildings within are buried under the huge trees growing there since centuries; only a few hewn stones, covered with moss and ivy, give hints of what history is hidden in this place.
A certain Indiana Jones-feeling is present when the dense cover of branches and leaves parts to reveal the sight on what is left of a large number of temples and cult places. Among them are some weird-looking circular structures that apparently served as early calendars, with specific markers that permitted reading and interpreting the course of the sun. Everything is quiet now, the sun has disappeared, and not even a bird is singing. We literally can hear the silence. Somehow, this place is leaving the impression of immense strength, of some old power that is still here, among these stones and in these trees. We hesitate to speak loudly, even the dogs seem to express themselves in a hushed manner.
Calendar temple
Some time at night, suddenly our Chagall starts growling and stares outside, where I notice a flickering light, a candle burning only some twenty meters in front of our truck. A shiver runs over me, because we had noticed absolutely nobody since we are here. So who could have lit that candle? I take the flashlight and examine the mysterious candle, only to find one of these lights that burn several days. Apparently, it has been there all the time, but during daylight, we did not notice it. The next morning, we find several more candles, burnt out already. The mystery becomes even deeper: Who is coming up here and lights candles on two thousand years old ruins? Apparently, this place still has a spiritual meaning to somebody. I respect that and leave some money for candles under the one that made me so nervous the night before.
So completely without any Dracula or vampire, Transsilvania managed to give us that slight shudder of mystery ...
Some road workers now gaze at our truck returning from the old mountain site, the road has not become better since yesterday. This is the last day for us in Romania. Near our planned route to Hungary I notice a castle I had read about before: Corvinus Castle is a real prototype of a medieval castle, and I am surprised that it had not been used more frequently as a movie setting before. A possible reason might be its location in the middle of a most ugly town, that mainly consists of half-wrecked iron industry facilities, which so effectively hide the large castle, that even with the help of coordinates I had adopted from my Google Earth research, we spend quite a while until finally we stand in front of the highly impressive complex, dating from the 14th century.
Corvinus Castle in Hunedoara
Unfortunately, a longer stay is not possible, since we want to reach the Hungarian border that same day, and an endless convoi of heavy trucks is moving only slowly on the only road connection in that direction. We join that column, and on the late afternoon, we leave Romania.
While the permanently bad weather did its best to spoil that journey, all it succeeded to was to plant the firm wish to return. Too beautiful is Romania to visit it so superficially as we did within these three weeks. Maybe next time, we will concentrate on the Maramures in the North, or Transsilvania, and try to stay on the tiny tracks - if we have better weather and less mud. Anyway, I will report on the experience, and hope you will be here to read it.
A Journey to Romania, Part I
A Journey to Romania
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part I
by Marcus Hanke
During the last years, some of my favourite travel destinations, have become increasingly unsafe. In the Sahara regions, the risk of being kidnapped, wounded or killed by either criminal, or, worse even, politically and/or religiously radicalised groups has raised considerably. Reason enough to look for alternatives, it is a good thing that the European Union has grown so quickly. Several new EU member states now offer an easy travelling, with barely any bureaucracy or difficulties at the borders - if the latter still exist at all. The small ID card is enough to pass through 27 states, in many of them it is not even necessary to change money, thanks to the Euro.
And for our most faithful travel companions, the dogs, the times of multi-lingual veterinary confirmations and documents, and time-consuming examinations is over as well (with the exception of a few member states, but even there, the currently necessary effort is nothing, compared to the hurdles that had to be overcome some years ago!). They are the first true EU citizens, having an own, blue EU passport, which contains picture, personal details, and a list of all vaccinations.
So we looked at a map of Europe, and chose a very old and fascinating country for this year’s vacation: Romania.
Having worn the dubious title of “Europe’s poorhouse” for a long time, Romania’s economy has gained a substantial impetus since the country joined the EU in 2007. It is only a question of time, until the country will reach the more advanced standards of infrastructure and tourism industry of Central Europe. Therefore, if we want to see the more original, “pure” Romania, we should not hesitate too long.
Already the preparation of the trip reveals that the country is large, and has really many sights and landmarks to offer. Three weeks won’t be enough to get more than a superficial impression, but we do our best to plan a route that touches the most interesting areas: the Maramures, the Northern region bordering Ukrainia, the historical Moldovanian province, with its world-famous painted monasteries, the gigantic delta of the Danube, ending in the Black Sea, and, of course, Transsilvania, the land of the Carpatian mountains, with its numerous historical sites and great landscapes.
A further difficulty is the lack of good maps. All existing maps have in common to only superficially mirror the reality; many roads shown by them do not exist, many roads existing are not shown on the maps. The same is even valid for complete villages. There is a rather recent road atlas, which is the base of our preparations. But when it goes into closer detail, especially when planning routes on simple tracks, we still have to rely on the old 1:500,000 scale Soviet military maps. During the Cold War, the Soviet Union launched a global mapping project, producing detailed topographic maps from all countries in the world. While for the Western world, its main sources remained limited to spy satellite and aerial imagery, the former Warsaw Treaty countries could be measured on the ground by expert teams. As a result, these maps, in spite of being thirty to forty years old, still are the best maps available for large parts of the world, including much of Eastern Europe. It is nearly impossible to get a hand on a printed edition, but thankfully, the whole collection has been scanned and calibrated for use with specific navigation software, such as Fugawi.
Our trip preparations included another novelty: This vacation would be the maiden voyage of our new expedition vehicle, the all-terrain truck named “Ar Gwenn” (which simply means “The White” in Breton language). Up to now, all our voyages were made with our faithful Nissan Terrano SUV and a tent. Yet, slowly, but steadily, we grew weary of the often frustrating search for places that would accommodate both car and tent, of erecting the latter in rain, cooking outside, crawling out of the tent in the morning again, with stiff back and limbs, only to be greeted by the warm tongues of our dogs .....
We therefore decided to retire our dear Nissan from the role of a travel vehicle, and replace it with something offering just space enough to cook, eat and sleep, without having to stick out a nose, while retaining the Nissan’s excellent off-road capabilities.
The solution was the acquisition of an Italian light truck, a Bremach. This small company, located in Brescia, near the Garda lake in Northern Italy, has specialised on the production of compact, but highly robust and off-road capable trucks, that are needed for narrow tracks in the Alps, and the passage through small, medieval villages and towns. With only 1.7 meters width and about 5.5 meters length, these trucks are able to pass through narrowest gaps in forests and mountains, a permanent four-wheel drive with 28 speeds to shift, full array of diff locks, large tires and a standard Iveco truck diesel engine, with a gross weight that still remains below the legally important limit of 3.5 tons, the Bremach Extreme is the perfect base for a travel vehicle.
"Gwenn" in PuristSpro livery represents the community during the 2008 Basel watch fair
After we had purchased the base vehicle already in October 2007, the various modifications and installations needed nearly a year to be completed. A trip to more distant destinations, such as the Middle East, or the Sahara, appeared a bit too risky, with a vehicle that had not been tested before. In case of technical problems, we did not want to be too far away from assistance. To stay in Europe seemed to be a very good choice, and Romania offers the right mixture of proximity and adventure for this task.
Interior views
To start with a summary
The voyage through Romania offered us marvellous insights and perspectives. The variety of great landscapes, the friendliness of the people are overwhelming. After our return, many people came asking: “How was it?”, and inevitably we bored them with long and detailed replies. However, it is impossible to sum up the experience Romania in a few sentences.
First of all, it was the vacation with the worst weather I ever had. Friends of mine had travelled through Romania just before we went there, our paths crossed somewhere in Hungary. They had sunshine all the time, heat with temperatures of over 40 degrees Celsius. But we did not have one day of 23 without at least several hours of rain. On no day the high temperature surpassed 20 degrees Celsius, with morning temperatures being always under 5 degrees, just above freezing point. Normally, in September it is very hot and sunny on the Black Sea coast, but we saw trees without leaves, mist, rain, perfectly depressing November weather.
As a consequence, our off-road material had severe problems. One might not believe this, but the very bad roads and tracks in Romania are among the most difficult to drive in Europe. One reason for this is the relative absence of modern machinery and tractors in many parts of the Romanian agriculture. Therefore, most tracks are used by horse and donkey carriages only, and some have never seen a combustion-engined vehicle before.
Still common means of transport in Romania
They are narrow, with deep holes and trenches resulting from the wooden wheels, and a day with rain is enough to transform them into streams full of deep mud. This mud filled the profile of our all-terrain tires in seconds, until they were smooth like racing slicks, with absolutely no grip for the wheels remaining. It would not matter how many wheels are powered, they simply all are turning without any efficiency.
We had some really dangerous situations, gliding down the steep hills, without any way to influence the direction. As a consequence, we avoided all tracks that might eventually become muddy, which seriously limited our ability to reach beautiful places, because all the tracks in Romania are potentially muddy.
The lesson we learned: next time, we will have rougher tires, and additionally chains for the wheels, even if those weigh a ton and need hours to be attached.
Are the Romanian people as poor as many in the Western parts think? No, everything depends on the definition of “poverty”. If you are poor, if you cannot afford meals in four star-restaurants, or a Patek Philippe watch, then most Romanians are poor. However, the very strong social solidarity that is still binding the people together is apparent. Old people are supported, rather than sent into a so-called “retirement residence”, where barely anybody cares about them. The assistance offered as part of a normal everyday life has to be paid over here, where social ties have dissolved. Additionally, the definition of vital necessities is different as well. For us, a car might be vital, for the average Romanian farmer, a good horse is enough.
No, I did not see real poverty in Romania, but I admit not having visiting the large cities, where the situation is certainly different, especially in Bucharest. But I saw hard-working people, trying to keep their homes neat and clean, and proud of what they achieved with their own hands work. Astonishingly, many people here in Austria and Germany do not want to hear what I am saying, for them, Romania is still a poor-house full of thieves. They only hear what they want to believe, even if it is far from reality.
Large wooden gates and carved ornaments are typical for the Maramures farmhouses
Very old, but beautiful farmhouse
And what about the vampires? Honestly, I have seen none. not even a bear, only a huge boar apparently not amused about us intruding his dining room under the huge oak trees. Not a singly farmhouse had adorned its windows and entrances with garlic, and dark castles remained dark and silent. The modern vampires occupied the fuel stations, 1.30 Euros for a liter of diesel meant sucking the financial blood from our veins ...
Finally, the travel report
Our travel route - the thin cyan-coloured line
Romania’s landscape is mostly shaped by the arc of the Carpatian mountains, which is the easternmost appendix of the Alps. While the summits are not as high as those in the central Alps, the Carpatians offer a lot of highly impressive sights.
Additionally, of course, there is the historical importance of Romania, that found itself in the middle of the interest of many people and nations: Romans conquered it from the former Dacian reign, Byzantine, Slavic, Hungarian, Osman, German and Russian people settled there, and up to now, many of the various languages is widely spoken in Romania. Aside the mountains, the country also possesses the estuary of Europe’s longest river, the Danube. Millions of tons of earth and mud material carried by the stream are also the reason why Romania is the only country in Europe that is constantly growing, since the estuary - and therefore the length of the Danube - increases its area into the Black Sea for several meters each year. This Danube delta is a world-renown landmark and ecologic marvel, and of course a must-see for us, despite the long way to go there.
About potholes and a merry graveyard
Yet we start in the North, a province called Maramures. We are welcome by a seemingly neverending series of roadworks. It is apparent that a lot of money is invested to improve the infrastructure, which is really necessary. Most road surfaces are heavily damaged, Romanian potholes are huge craters able to swallow complete cars. Older roads consist of pre-produced concrete elements, and were often made still in the communist era of the infamous president Ceaucescu. The elements disintegrated into heaps of debris over the years, sometimes the plates would simulate the tectonic movement of the continents, shifting over each other, resulting into veritable skijumps, that catapult careless drivers and their cars into the air, only to send them to the ground, with nasty noises and a rain of sparks emerging from the abused bodies. Compared with this, the inconvenience of waiting at the various roadworks seems tolerable.
Village road during rain - have a good sail!
At first, leaving the main road onto one of the many gravel roads seems to be the better alternative, but the potholes there would give a generations of astronomers a completely new impression of “black holes”. Yet our truck with its two rigid axles and leaf springs appears to feel very comfortable, as springs and shock absorbers are merrily squeaking all the way long. While we are enjoying the comfort of pneumatically dampened seats, our two dogs learn how a rodeo rider feels atop a wild bull.
That some things are different here, is clearly shown in a small village named Sapanta, that presents a unique sight, the “happy churchyard”. More than seventy years ago, a woodcarver started to make crosses for the graves, all painted in bright colours (mostly blue, white and red), showing a scene from the deceased’s life, and telling their stories in humorous rhymes. Meanwhile, the churchyard is very famous, and the artist has found a “funny” grave there himself. Several successors ensure that the handcarved tradition will not die.
The power of religion
Everybody has heard about the medieval wooden churches of Norway. Barely known are the old churches of the Maramures, which do not stay behind their Scandinavian counterparts in beauty and artistic importance. Mostly dating from the 14th and 15th centuries, the wooden churchhouses were erected and used by the Romanian orthodox confession. Often they are located in romantic surroundings, gardens full of fruit trees, which also serve as graveyards; the eternal circle of death and life is thus very present.
Old church of Barsana
Poile church
What strikes us especially is the omnipresence and vividness of the spiritual life here. While in Western Europe, the Roman Catholic church, but also many Protestant confessions are dramatically suffering from a lack of young priests and visitors in the churches, with complete order communities in immediate danger of being extinguished, the Romanian orthodox church apparently does not have this problem: In many villages, even tiny ones, we encounter monasteries, and they all are full of monks and nuns. A new monastery in Barsana is erected in traditional style with wooden buildings; a large area with huge, impressive buildings.
The newly established Barsana monastery
A large number of Romanians is working abroad, mostly in Italy, France and Spain. They send home a major share of their incomes, which is partially donated to the Church. As a result, the sight of newly built, large churches is very common. On Sundays, we see the crowds walking many kilometers from the mountains to attend the services, a sight that has become very rare in Western Europe.
Monastery in construction
Third-rank roads, and where they lead to
At home, people complain about the increasing number of roadsigns cluttering the environment. As a car driver, it becomes difficult to read all the information at a glance. Thus, we should be grateful for the nearly complete absence of roadsigns in Romania. However, navigation is not really improved, if the maps show villages that are not where they are supposed to be, and we are passing a village without any name signs, that does not correspond with any map.
So we were left to ourselves, when we followed a small road that was designated the third rank on the map, trying to find a cozy and lonely place to staying over night. On the paper, the course of the road looked promising, yet failed to keep this in reality. Up it led, into the mountains, when the concrete gave way to gravel and finally to mud and stones. Finally, we found ourselves on a beautiful plain, a high meadow we only shared with a small river and a white horse, that followed our arrival with no sign of being impressed, before continuing to graze.
The "third-rank road" can be seen as the path leading into the small river
This place was perfect for setting up a camp, but, as nearly every night, it started raining after midnight. The following day, we only had the choice to return on the same track we had come, or to try the bad-looking path that crossed the river and disappeared in the forest. After we checked this direction during an extended dog walk, we decided to give it a try.
When we reached the settlements and the paved main road later, we had spent more than two hours for fifteen kilometers ...
Continue to Part 2
Copyright December 2008 - Marcus Hanke & PuristSPro.com - all rights reserved
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Comments, suggestions, and corrections to this article are welcome.
This message has been edited by Marcus Hanke on 2014-02-26 00:49:24
I wouldn't believe that Romania ...
is in Europe!! The potholes and muddy roads remind me of my country. I will feel at home there.
Several questions: how fast can your truck go? Did you see any dracula in transylvania? 
Wish I could write like you......
No Dracula ....
... as I already wrote in the first part, I have seen no vampires there, except those on the gas stations, asking more than 1.30 Euros for a liter of diesel. My truck is able to keep a top speed of about 130 kilometers per hour, but only if the street profile is flat. When climbing, the speed is a lot lower. The engine only has 116 horse powers, but it is relatively inexpensive to maintain (insurance and tax are bearable), and diesel consumption is rather low: only about 13 liters per 100 kilometers, with the frequent use of the diesel-powered air heating included.
Regards,
Marcus
Regards,
Marcus
GREAT travel report......
...Can I see more of your dogs on Part 2 please?
Happy New Year to all..................
Cheers,
SC
Amazing
Thank you Marcus for the report. I am looking forward to the next part.
- SJX
Thanks for bringing us closer to Romania Marcus
Your Bremach truck looks perfect for your journeys, and looking forward to reading your Part 2.
Cheers,
Anthony
Absolutely fantastic trip report, love the details and pics, thank you...
Looking forward to Part 2.
S
A Journey to Romania, Part II
A Journey to Romania
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part II
by Marcus Hanke
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part II
by Marcus Hanke
While working ourselves down from the mountains again, the slow approach into “civilisation” was clearly observable: at first, all we saw were cows, goats, and some horses. Later, we encountered some wrecked cars rusting aside the track, even later followed by a few badly battered, but still usable ones, until finally, the sight of some rather new, undamaged cars announced the proximity of something that would more justifiably carry the designation “road”.
This is a good opportunity to mention another Romanian uniqueness, its cars, especially the Dacia. This ubiquitous means of transportation is the hidden engine of Romania’s everyday life. Originally, the Dacia was an indigenously produced licence offspring of the old Renault 12. As a result of its simple and solid construction, about 2 million of them were produced between 1969 and 2004. Still many of these are driven, and presumably will continue to be for the next ten, twenty years. While the original design has only very moderately been upgraded, more recently the Dacia company was completely acquired by Renault, and is producing more modern constructions now. Since Romanian work hours are cheaper than in the rest of the EU, and the synergetic exploitation of Renault/Nissan technology is not expensive, the modern Dacia cars can be offered at a very cheap price. Originally, these cars were assigned for distribution in Eastern Europe only, where the average incomes are low. However, when the news about the new Dacias spread in Western Europe, a sudden and immense demand made clear that for most families there, an investment of more than 10- to 15,000 Euros for a car is a most serious issue as well. The managements of European car producers, while busy adding even more luxury accessories to their products, had completely overseen the fact that the cost of everyday life in Europe has risen sharply, but the salaries had not. As a result, Renault decided to offer the Dacia in Western Europe as well, creating a wave of orders, that only slowly can be fulfilled.
While I originally followed our Western tradition to arrogantly smile at the sight of the clumsy shapes of the older Dacias, during our voyage I developed highest respect for these tough cars. In fact, I cannot imagine anything that could destroy them. They are light, solid, with enough ground clearance to pass over the obstacles of corrugated tracks, and even after falling into one of the bad potholes, they won’t be seriously damaged. Up to eight people were seen squeezed into them, and when the car became stuck on a mountain track with the awful noise of metal scratching over stone, the four doors flung open, and released busy passengers who simply lifted the whole car over the obstacle, only to jump into the car again, which disappeared in a cloud of noise, smoke and dust ...
Belief, painted onto walls
Despite its cultural and natural richness, Romania offers only a few landmarks of undisputed worldwide fame, and among these, the painted Moldovian monasteries are clearly occupying the highest rank. These fortified monasteries were mostly founded in the early 16th century and feature strong walls, which offered a safe retreat for the neighbouring population during times of unrest and war. Far more important they are, however, for their overwhelmingly decorated churches. Not only their insides, but also their exteriors were covered over and over with bright frescoes, depictions of saints, places and religious scenes.
Moldovita monastery
It is clear that these outer walls served as a means of religious education of a mostly illiterate population, especially during important services, when the small churches were too small to accommodate all the visitors.
Sucevita monastery
When I was still at school, in the early Eighties, I saw a picture of one of the monasteries in a school book, and was immediately taken. I just HAD to go there, to see this marvel myself! Unfortunately, I had never the opportunity to fulfil this dream before, but when we discussed a good destination for this vacation, the picture of this monastery, of its small, brightly painted church amidst massive walls, located in the loneliness of Carpatian forests, immediately popped up in my memory; now or never.
Sucevita monastery
While the paintings deteriorated over the centuries, restoration began already during the reign of communist dictator Ceaucescu, and is now - assisted by the means offered by the UNESCO, as a result of all the monasteries being listed as World Cultural Heritage - approaching completion. Thus we are privileged to enjoy the richness of decoration and its vivid colours without our view being compromised by scaffoldings. Unfortunately, the Romanian orthodox symbology and iconography somewhat differs from that of the Roman Catholic tradition, so I do not recognise and understand many of the wonderful paintings.
Voronet monastery
While still more than twenty of these monasteries are located in this region in the country’s North-Easter corner, which is now called the Bukovina, we only visit the four most famous ones: Moldovita, Sucevita, Humor and Voronet, the latter even gained the reputation of being the “Sixtin Chapel of the East”. Besides being museums, the monasteries are still active order communities, so we see many nuns in their black gowns. Apparently, these ladies have sworn to never smile again, since they all appear very serious, even humour-free. I know that I am far from being a womaniser, but a lady that would not return my smile is a rarity. But maybe my physical appearance is so distant from the nuns’ aesthetic ideals, that they all prefer to stare at me thin-lipped, when I greet them with a broad grin. What I pity, I would have liked to shoot a nice portrait of a smiling nun ...
People with mysterious origin
Turning into South-West direction again, we now enter the region of the Székely, this is how they name themselves. Most apparent sign of their presence is the domination of the Hungarian language. I was not astonished to find a Hungarian minority in Romania, since the country borders to Hungary, and has long-standing historical connections with it. However, the presence of Hungarian-speaking people here, in the very center of Romania, was surprising. In fact, the Székely have nothing to do with Hungary, but are of a much older origin, that is disputed among experts until today.
One hint into the right direction might be the weird-looking inscriptions on some road signs, that strangely resemble runes used by Teutonic tribes or the Vikings. But what have Hungarians to do with Vikings? Nothing at all. A short research leads to similar types of rune alphabets, that were used by the Phoenician people in the ancient times, which spread to Central Asia. There, the early Turk tribes, from which later the infamous Huns and much later the Osmanic people developed, also used very similar rune alphabets.
Street sign with Székely runes. This picture was made by my friend Harry (Wildwux at
Unfortunately, our younger dog, a sheepdog from the Spanish Pyrenees, did not read all the stories before our departure, so with loud barks, our cute, but naive Ulysse sped forward to confront the “intruders”. Luckily for him, the two stock protectors only glanced at their master, who just smiled at the canine counterpart of a Tasman Devil assaulting, and without a sign from him, the two four-legged nemesis remained inactive. Some meters in front of their fangs, Ulysse realised the the fact that only the discipline of his adversaries stood between him and his sudden end as tiny pieces, and - still barking to save his face - retreated behind our large Belgian sheepdog Chagall; should he deal with the Romanians ...
The shepherds live in tiny huts up there in the mountains, together with their stock. Only during the winter, they stay at home, in the valleys. Most of them have own houses and farms, which are managed by the rest of their families during their absence. They are all very friendly and curious, I am sad of not being able to talk with them.
Typical track and shepherd's hut at Ragul Pass
Blown away from the Danube estuary
Leaving the mountains, we keep the car’s nose directed towards the estuary of the river Danube, in the far East of the country. This huge delta is a landmark unique in Europe, and as a whole protected as a national park. Before it feeds the Black Sea after flowing for 2,800 kilometers and passing seven countries, the Danube divides into three large arms, between which are more than 5,500 square kilometers of marshland, water, swamp and sand. Many endangered species live here, both animals and plants. For the most part, only boats can access the area, there are barely any paved roads in the delta, and only a few tracks.
Water pigs Chagall and Ulysse bathing in a Danube arm
We had planned our visit there to be a great time, wanted to use a small track studied in the satellite imagery on Google Earth, to stay aside one of the thousands of small channels, and to observe the local birdlife. But once again, weather has different plans: We arrived in the delta by taking a ferry over the main arm of the Danube, then rain and strong winds come over us. The track we had planned to follow - as all the tracks in the region - normally consists of raw earth and dust; no problem in dry conditions, but more than problematic after many days of frequent rain. To go there alone, with no other car to assist in case of being hopelessly stuck, just seems too risky. With deep regrets we therefore turn Southward, and decide to visit some of the old Greek settlements instead.
In the classic times, Greek merchants travelled along the Black Sea coast and founded trading posts and towns wherever this deemed profitable to them. Some of these settlements were later inhabited by Romans, Byzantine citizens, and finally Osman muslims, before the ongoing collection of earth material transported by the Danube filled the harbours and cut them off their access to the sea. Today, some of them are excavated and shown to the public. A friend of mine had sent me the coordinates of one of these excavations, according to him, there is a perfect and tranquil place to stay over night there.
Taking cover in the storm near the ruins of an ancient Greek settlement
After a long search we finally find the correct track to the peninsula and the ruins of the Greek town. But instead of a sunny beach, we are greeted by rain and stormy gales with speeds of up to 90 kilometers per hour. It seems safer to cuddle behind a small hill, the night is cold and humid, the storm is banging onto the truck, seemingly trying to throw it over; no thought about sleeping that night. The next day, the long and apparently sandy track has become a line of bottomless mud. With reduced air pressure in the tires, all diff locks engaged, and many prayers to the god of the offroaders, we make our way back. Thanks, dear Bremach!
There is another Greek settlement, that has been excavated and transformed into a highly interesting museum: Histria. We were the only visitors there, and had ample time to study the ruins and explanatory signs.
Ruins of Histria
No, the Carpatian mountains still seems to be the better part to spend the holiday in. Back we go, to the West (young man), like a cowboy, directly into the direction of the setting sun - if we could make it out through the thick cover of rain clouds ...
Return to part 1
Continue to part 3
Copyright January 2009 - Marcus Hanke & PuristSPro.com - all rights reserved
PuristSPro Homepage | ThePuristS Homepage
Comments, suggestions, and corrections to this article are welcome.
This message has been edited by Marcus Hanke on 2014-02-26 00:56:30
Looks like a fantastic adventure!
The PuristSPro Mobile would make a great party bus for a GTG!!!!
Great pics and looking forward to the next saga!
-MW
Great pics and looking forward to the next saga!
-MW
Fantastic photos!
Marcus,
I'm completely engrossed in your travelogue! I've wanted to visit Romania for several years, and your photos are putting the country ever higher on my list of places to visit. Thanks so much for these wonderful photos...truly amazing and beautiful. Also, I love your dogs! One looks like a Groenendael (you mention in your article that one is a Belgian sheepdog), which is a great breed, but strangely has not gained as much popularity here in the US as in Europe. I can't understand why, they are terrific dogs. Here in America you are more likely to see Belgian Malinois and possibly Tervurens. I look forward to reading part 3 of your report. By the way, who painted the Celtic knotwork on your vehicle? The pictures don't capture all of it, but the artwork looks nice from what I can tell.
Happy adventuring!
Daos
On dogs and celtic artwork
thank you very much for your kind comments! Indeed, our "Chagall" is a Groenendael. I used "Belgian Sheepdog" since I had heard that in the States, the term Groenendael is not commonly used, unlike the names of the other Belgian breeds. Also over here, the Groenendael is increasingly rare, especially compared with the Malinois, which is becoming very popular, due to its omnipresence in police service. In Austria, there are only three Groenendael breeders, compared with two dozen Malinois breeders. Tervuerens are rare now, too, represented by only four breeders. Our dog is from Hungary, became national show champion and is worked with in agility and obedience by my wife.
The Celtic artwork on our truck is not painted, they are large stickers. I had handdrawn designs, which I converted to vector graphics and after some reworking scaled to the right dimensions. A friend of mine has a business where he prints those huge images that are hung on buildings. He printed the designs on a self-adhesive foil. The lion is Saint Marcus' lion, taken from an anglo-saxon manuscript that was presumably written in Lindisfarne, then brought to the continent, to save it from the frequent Viking assaults. It is now held in Paris, and this specific lion depiction is very famous. Since it is the sign of my name patron, I use it sometimes.
With best regards,
Marcus
The Celtic artwork on our truck is not painted, they are large stickers. I had handdrawn designs, which I converted to vector graphics and after some reworking scaled to the right dimensions. A friend of mine has a business where he prints those huge images that are hung on buildings. He printed the designs on a self-adhesive foil. The lion is Saint Marcus' lion, taken from an anglo-saxon manuscript that was presumably written in Lindisfarne, then brought to the continent, to save it from the frequent Viking assaults. It is now held in Paris, and this specific lion depiction is very famous. Since it is the sign of my name patron, I use it sometimes.
With best regards,
Marcus
Incredible
what a silence do these photographs communicate.
Must be a fantastic scenery to travel around.
Geo
This post is BRILLIANT.
I really enjoyed reading the comments, seeing the pics.
For non european people, you will understand better why an European Community of 27 countries gathering the industrial regions of Germany with the most distant places of Romania is a true miracle.
The pics are superb and I was really surprised by the beauty of the Monastries.
Thanks a lot Marcus for this journey in a not so known Romania.
Fr.Xavier
This message has been edited by foversta on 2009-01-02 13:29:57
For non european people, you will understand better why an European Community of 27 countries gathering the industrial regions of Germany with the most distant places of Romania is a true miracle.
The pics are superb and I was really surprised by the beauty of the Monastries.
Thanks a lot Marcus for this journey in a not so known Romania.
Fr.Xavier
This message has been edited by foversta on 2009-01-02 13:29:57
A Journey to Romania, Part III
A Journey to Romania
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part III
by Marcus Hanke
Europe’s “Wild East”
Part III
by Marcus Hanke
In this region we find a weird mixture of touristic seabath infrastructure, with high hotel towers and long beaches, and poor villages in the hinterland. There, we also encounter one of the few apparent problems that Romania has to overcome in order to be really attractive to more tourists: litter. As it seems, a central litter collection is lacking in many of the smaller settlements. Consequently, the villagers simply choose a place on the outskirts where they bring all the litter to, and leave it to the wind and the ubiquitous straying dogs to disperse it evenly over the landscape.
A not so beautiful sight: the Romanian litter problem
Sometimes, it is difficult to find a way under tons of empty bags, shards and beercans. This is very pity, especially in the face of the apparently massive investments into a better touristic infrastructure, which in my opinion will be in vain, as long as the people fail to understand that tourists do not want to spend their holidays within fields of litter.
Romania’s South is called Walachia, and is a traditionally agricultural area already since the ancient times. Its main feature is its featurelessness; it is absolutely flat, with barely a tree or bush disturbing the all-dominating horizontality.
This is not an ideal place to hide for a night; our large, white truck would be a huge sign, telling all people in a wide radius that tourists are sleeping there. The vast, grey area printed in the map shows a few promising, green spots, however. Hoping that these spots would be forests, we steer in their direction, and, indeed, we not only find a forest, but a place that could be a setting somewhere in J.R.R. Tolkien’s world Middleearth: It is more a garden than a forest, full of massive, old oak trees. Tall and dark they stand, dispersed in a harvested field that shines golden in the evening sun, observing us in unreadable tranquility.
We feel small and unimportant amidst their age and massive presence. In the center of the forest there is an empty clearing, surrounded by oaks in a perfect circle. How many centuries have they witnessed passing? Were they deliberately planted in this constellation? Why? As a place to celebrate? Or as a place of memory?
For one night, we feel safeguarded from storm and rain, and indeed, this is one of the very few nights remaining clear.
Volcanoes without heat
The next destination is lacking fame, but would earn it: the mud volcanoes near Buzau, on the Southern edge of the Carpatian arc. This region is geologically active, which is manifested by frequent earthquakes. Additionally, it is Europe’s richest oil reserve, or better: it was. The first industrially exploited oil source worldwide (in 1857) was discovered near the city of Ploesti, which then became Europe’s capital of oil.
Our own oil supply - great idea!
Without economic importance, the mud volcanoes have been left alone, and only since 2005 they are accessible by a paved road. Instead of spitting fire, lava and smoke, these small volcanoes thankfully limit themselves to lazily bubbling gas in small ponds of mud. So other than receiving a rather unusual skin cream coat, a jump into the craters would not cause any harm.
Yet the landscape is breathtaking, even without the infrequent releases or methane from the volcanoes. Here, the Carpatians are devoid of the elsewhere dominating forests, the sight we are confronted with would better fit to Spain, or any other arid country in the South. The volcano site itself is lacking any vegetation, many layers of muddy micro-eruptions have buried everything growing under tons of grey-brown material, that is now hard like stone. Phantastic, bizarre, are but some words coming to our minds when we walk around here.
Transsilvania: Fortified churches, castles, but no Dracula
Meanwhile our main direction is Westbound again, to home. But there is still a very important part of Romania we have not seen: Transsilvania. Located in the center of the Carpatian arc, this region has become famous and to a certain extent thrilling, because of the vampire myth. But before dealing with this, I’d like to point the attention of you, benevolent reader, to a culturally more interesting feature: the fortified churches.
During the middle-ages, settlers from various parts in Germany, here in their totality simply called “Saxons”, came to the Carpatians and settled here in the 12th and 13th centuries. While they were all Roman Catholic originally, they very early adopted the reformed confession in the 16th century, and found themselves in the middle of countless conflicts between barons, earls and cities of various confessions. To protect themselves from the permanent looting and burning, they decided to fortify their churches. While the erection of a mundane fortification needed the permission of the land-owning baron, such was not necessary when a simple wall was added to a church. However, the walls of these Saxon churches were much more than “simple”, and eventually became massive fortresses with several concentric rings of thick and high walls, with digs and even artillery bastions.
But most important of all were the food supplies: Integrated into the walls, and sometimes even the church building itself, were dozens of small storerooms, each one with individual access and stairs. They contained the food supplies and living quarters of the families of the community, while the cattle found ample grass to consume between the ring walls. This is how many of the villages survived many attacks and even sieges. The best preserved fortified churches can be found in Prejmer and Harman. Upon our arrival, the castle in Prejmer unfortunately is closed already for a long weekend, so we continue to Harman. This castle is highly impressive, with all the storerooms inside.
The fortified church of Harman
Store rooms integrated into the walls
Another interesting issue is that still many people are speaking German here. Since the communist regime did not entirely ban the use of the German language, it did not become out of use. Today, even many of the younger people speak and understand German, which has unexpectedly become a valuable asset: In Europe, people are getting older and older, but at the same time, the governments have cut a lot of the welfare budgets for the elderly, so it is increasingly difficult to assure a good care. While the purely medicinal care is of course guaranteed, the aged people mostly need a simple “helping hand”, someone who cooks and takes care of the laundry, or assists in changing cloths. This is why the young Romanians of German origin find many job opportunities in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Most elders do not speak foreign languages and need someone speaking German to deal with. The salaries of the Romanian assistants is lower than that of the local ones, and they send home a major share of their incomes. Part of this money is invested into the restoration of the old churches, which now are mostly in excellent condition.
Road sign of a small village in Transsilvania, with the name written in Romanian and German
In Rasnov, the medieval farmers have erected a complete fortress, similar as the fortified churches, but without church. The walls of the castle contain many small houses, which served as food stores and living quarters for the families, in times of war.
The so-called farmers' fortress in Rasnov
View over the roofs of the small storage houses in the Rasnov fortress
Finally, we reach a small village called Bran, with a nice castle on the hill. Immediately, the mass of tourists and small shops and stands is apparent, which is a somewhat a shock for us, because since the Moldovian monasteries we had not seen any tourist.
Bran castle
The solution is simple: Somehow, Bran castle has been attributed to the mythic Count Dracula. Nobody knows why, since it has nothing to do with Dracula, and has not been mentioned in Bram Stoker’s world famous novel. However, generations of avid Dracula fans were searching for the right castle, and maybe Bran, located in the dark and narrow valleys of Transsilvania, seemed to be the best choice. Since then, a veritable Dracula tourism has developed in the village.
Is there any historical Dracula? Well, yes and no. There is no historical vampire, and the vampire myth in fact does neither come from Transsilvania, nor are there any typical Transsilvanian tales of vampirism. The myth is often rooted to a certain Vlad Tepes, earl of Walachia during the 15th century. He has become known of being a merciless fighter against the Osman empire, that had conquered the Eastern Roman empire and its capital Constantinople (today Istanbul) in 1453, thus challenging the Holy Roman Empire in Europe. Vlad gained dubious fame when he ordered Osman captives to be impaled. This period of continuous war between Muslim and Christian troops in Europe was extremely bloody on both sides, but apparently, Vlad’s activities were extraordinarily violent, thus earning him the title “impaler”. In Romania, Vlad is still respected as a hero fighting for his country’s freedom against the Osman invaders, but Bram Stoker took him as inspiration for his “Dracula”. This name was derived from Vlad’s official byname “Draculea”, inherited from his father, Vlad Dracul.
Back to Bran castle, Vlad Tepes spent only three days there, so it is far from being “his” castle. This does not hinder the vampire fans travelling there, trying to catch a mild feeling of horror when buying an “authentic Dracula mug” ...
A new road without sense, and an old people without road
Leaving behind the tourism magnet, we find ourselves on one of the worst pieces of country roads encountered so far. Even the most courageous Dacia drivers only rarely dared to surpass walking speed, the concrete plates seemed to have been used in a large earthquake simulation. “Drum bun”, “good trip”, is the wish written on big signs when leaving any village in Romania. Roads like this give a deeper meaning to it. It is clear that since the days of Romania’s infamous dictator, Nicolae Ceaucescu, no money was invested in repairing this piece of infrastructure. Yet he left behind one really interesting road, which we want to use after another night spent in thick forest.
The “Trans-Fagaras” is a road passing the Carpatians at about 2,000 meters, in a most challenging location. To set himself a monument, Ceaucescu dreamed of a high alpine road, like they were built in Switzerland, Austria or Italy. During the Seventies, he ordered the Trans-Fagaras to be built, mostly by prisoners, many of whom died during the construction. While technically ambitious, and optically very impressive, this road was completely senseless from its economic aspect. Only a few dozens of kilometers to the West, there is an ancient pass through the Carpatians, that only reaches some 900 meters height, and has a good road. Since many centuries, the traffic between North and South is moving there, and there was no apparent need for another road.
Consequently, the Trans-Fagaras was never really frequented, since it is difficult to drive for heavy trucks, and has to be closed for several months in winter, since it is blocked by snow. Today, it is a nice road for sightseers, which is why we chose to use it.
For two days, it had not rained, so we hope to end our vacation in conditions worthy a late summer. However, temperatures fall again, it starts to freeze at night. On the Trans-Fagaras road we see barely another vehicle, some spots of snow appear at over 1,600 meters. On the top of the pass is a tunnel, leading to the Northern flank of the Carpatians. When leaving it, we suddenly stand in deep snow and thick fog; late summer, yeah.
Late Summer in Romania ...
Originally, we had planned to take another pass to the South again. 2,200 meters high, the Urdele pass is not paved, not even a gravel road, but a very corrugated track. At the sight of the snow here, 200 meters lower, we immediately cancel this plan, with deep regret.
We only pay a brief visit to the town Sibiu, the old German Hermannstadt. It had been awarded the title of “European Capital of Culture” in 2007, so most of its beautiful old quarters have been nicely restored.
Before leaving Romania, I have one place I really want to visit: the ruins of the Dacian capital. The Dacian people settled in Romania four thousand years ago, until the country was finally conquered by the Romans, around the year 100 A.D. Two hundred years before that, the Dacians had relocated their capital to a place that should make it invulnerable from attack and impossible to be conquered. At the very end of a long and narrow valley, in 1,200 meters height, several artificial platforms were made, on which the new capital with the name Sarmizegetusa Regia was built. It consisted of three main parts: the civilian town, the holy quarter with many temples, and the fortress in the middle. After the Roman emperor Traian besieged and finally conquered the town in 106 A.D., it was not devastated but used by Romans as well. But now, during the pax romana, the peace guaranteed by the Roman Empire, trade was more important than defence, and the secluded location of the city became an economic problem. Consequently, it was left deserted by the inhabitants, who went to a new town in the plains, and forgotten.
Until today, only a tiny part has been excavated, the temple quarter, and there, only the mural bases of walls and columns remained. The rest is still hidden under a dark and dense forest of centuries-old trees. Several years ago, only a footpath led to the site, which was later replaced by a rough track. Meanwhile, the UNESCO has listed it as World’s Cultural Heritage, and thus the track is currently widened and rebuilt, and will eventually become a regular paved road.
For us this means that for more than 20 kilometers, from the (modern) gate showing two Dacians and marking the limit of the old city’s territory, we have the joy of driving on a bad track, that has become devastated by heavy construction machines, and garnished with deep mud following several days of rain. We need two hours for this short distance, and our poor dogs are completely irritated, because of the massive jumps and bumps they are subjected to. Several times it appears as if we cannot continue, and I want to give up already, but my wife, who does the driving (during most of the vacations, she is the driver, I am the navigator), presses on; much to the astonishment of several road workers, standing aside and gazing at the strange sight of Gwenn working its way through the mud.
The "road" to the excavation site
Finally, no human being has been seen during the last ten kilometers, we reach the remnants of Sarmizegetusa Regia. Of the ancient fortress, only the massive ring wall is still visible, the buildings within are buried under the huge trees growing there since centuries; only a few hewn stones, covered with moss and ivy, give hints of what history is hidden in this place.
A certain Indiana Jones-feeling is present when the dense cover of branches and leaves parts to reveal the sight on what is left of a large number of temples and cult places. Among them are some weird-looking circular structures that apparently served as early calendars, with specific markers that permitted reading and interpreting the course of the sun. Everything is quiet now, the sun has disappeared, and not even a bird is singing. We literally can hear the silence. Somehow, this place is leaving the impression of immense strength, of some old power that is still here, among these stones and in these trees. We hesitate to speak loudly, even the dogs seem to express themselves in a hushed manner.
Calendar temple
Some time at night, suddenly our Chagall starts growling and stares outside, where I notice a flickering light, a candle burning only some twenty meters in front of our truck. A shiver runs over me, because we had noticed absolutely nobody since we are here. So who could have lit that candle? I take the flashlight and examine the mysterious candle, only to find one of these lights that burn several days. Apparently, it has been there all the time, but during daylight, we did not notice it. The next morning, we find several more candles, burnt out already. The mystery becomes even deeper: Who is coming up here and lights candles on two thousand years old ruins? Apparently, this place still has a spiritual meaning to somebody. I respect that and leave some money for candles under the one that made me so nervous the night before.
So completely without any Dracula or vampire, Transsilvania managed to give us that slight shudder of mystery ...
Some road workers now gaze at our truck returning from the old mountain site, the road has not become better since yesterday. This is the last day for us in Romania. Near our planned route to Hungary I notice a castle I had read about before: Corvinus Castle is a real prototype of a medieval castle, and I am surprised that it had not been used more frequently as a movie setting before. A possible reason might be its location in the middle of a most ugly town, that mainly consists of half-wrecked iron industry facilities, which so effectively hide the large castle, that even with the help of coordinates I had adopted from my Google Earth research, we spend quite a while until finally we stand in front of the highly impressive complex, dating from the 14th century.
Corvinus Castle in Hunedoara
Unfortunately, a longer stay is not possible, since we want to reach the Hungarian border that same day, and an endless convoi of heavy trucks is moving only slowly on the only road connection in that direction. We join that column, and on the late afternoon, we leave Romania.
While the permanently bad weather did its best to spoil that journey, all it succeeded to was to plant the firm wish to return. Too beautiful is Romania to visit it so superficially as we did within these three weeks. Maybe next time, we will concentrate on the Maramures in the North, or Transsilvania, and try to stay on the tiny tracks - if we have better weather and less mud. Anyway, I will report on the experience, and hope you will be here to read it.
Copyright January 2009 - Marcus Hanke & PuristSPro.com - all rights reserved
PuristSPro Homepage | ThePuristS Homepage
Comments, suggestions, and corrections to this article are welcome.
Marcus, a photo for you.
Thanks for the conclusion to your article. As you know, I've been following your, and the dogs' (Thanks by the way for the information about the lovely Chagall. He is a great-looking ambassador for his breed!), adventures in Romania. I will definitely get there one day in the near future -- your report has sealed the deal for me! The pictures you took from the volcano fields of Romania reminded me of one I took last year on my most recent trip to Hawaii. I enjoyed all the stories in your travelogue greatly. Hope 2009 brings us more reporting from you, as you travel the continent in the trusty Ar Gwenn.
Thanks again, and this photo is for you.
Cheers,
Daos
Post-eruption landscape, Volcanoes National Park on the big island of Hawaii. This photo taken during my most recent trip to the Hawaiian islands in 2008.
Hawaii is one of my dream destinations ...
... but as long as we have dogs, we prefer to concentrate on places where we do not need to board a plane. Your picture is great, and the Hawaiian islands must be absolutely breathtaking!
Best regards,
Marcus
Best regards,
Marcus
Great pic!
I haven't been to the Big Island, but a regular to Oahu. I guess I need to try the other islands. Do you stay in Hilo?
-MW
-MW
MW, try the Big Island sometime.
Last year I went to Maui, Oahu, and Hawaii. On Hawaii, we rented a vacation house slightly south of Hilo near the thermal hot springs (about 20 minutes from historic downtown Hilo). The east side of the Big Island is a little sleepier than the western side where Kona is, but from our rental house we traveled all over the island: snorkeled and shopped in Kona; visited the volcanoes on the southern end of the island (Did you know there is a winery on Hawaii?); saw the Hawaiian cowboys in the northern part of the island...and so many other great day trips.
I highly recommend a trip to the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden as well as hikes to see the waterfalls on the island. If you like lychees -- I am a HUGE fan, but only of the truly decadent, large, ruby-red varieties (not the yellowish-brown ones that are often sold in SoCal), and happen to be on Hawaii during lychee season (I was there late June/early July last year, perfect timing.) you owe yourself a trip to buy some at the Hilo Farmer's Market in their downtown. The fruit was so unbelievable, at the end of the trip my traveling companions and I counted the pounds of lychee we bought and consumed in 5 days...the grand total: 13 lbs!
Here are some more pictures if you need convincing. Enjoy!
The coastline viewed from the Hawaii Tropical Gardens.
The famous black sand at Punaluu Black Sand Beach.
A green sea turtle we saw during our snorkeling trip in Kona.
A short-fin pilot whale that splashed us. This whale's pod all came up to our boat and played with us. It was amazing.
Hot gases/steam rising from a volcano crater in the southern tip of Hawaii.
The foreboding opening of a lava tube. Hiking down to the tube and back up is not for the faint of heart (Or flip-flop shod, as I found out.), but well worth the trip. Bring your sneakers!
Hawaiian sea turtles and seals....
Your turtle pics brings back fond memories of my first time in Hawaii!
Here's a seal that frequents the Ko 'Olina lagoons: Everyone always stops and says 'awwww, how cute!"
The first itme I was in Oahu, we went sea kayaking and spotted so much marine life, amazing! There's something about Hawaii, people are so friendly, food is great, just a nice relaxing laid back atmosphere.
-MW
This message has been edited by DRMW on 2009-01-04 20:29:14
Here's a seal that frequents the Ko 'Olina lagoons: Everyone always stops and says 'awwww, how cute!"
The first itme I was in Oahu, we went sea kayaking and spotted so much marine life, amazing! There's something about Hawaii, people are so friendly, food is great, just a nice relaxing laid back atmosphere.
-MW
This message has been edited by DRMW on 2009-01-04 20:29:14
MW, thanks for sharing your photos!
Agreed that Hawaii is a special place...it's that "aloha" spirit that has brought me back several times. Here's hoping we both get back there again soon!
Marcus, that report was incredible!
I felt like a kid reading an adventure novel, eagerly reading on to find out what excitement lurked in the next paragraph. And your photographs are stunning. What a fantastic trip. Thanks so much for sharing it with us.
Regards,
Jed
Regards,
Jed
Fantastic pictures Marcus!
I really liked the part about the mysterious candles! Scary! -MW
Brilliant Marcus, thanks for sharing...
What a wonderful travelogue. A superb view into Romania,
Many thanks,
Tim
Many thanks,
Tim
