Romania 2012

Click here for a video of our time in Romania 

22^nd July Bucharest

As we boarded the plane for Bucharest at Dubrovnik Airport, another Aussie guy in front was looking decidedly nervous. I think he had visions of an Airbus A320 or something but the sight of a small turbo prop job put him off. We were OK, having used this type of aircraft in the Kimberley a lot but it was certainly a taste of what was to come in Romania. They did actually serve a meal, a ham and cheese bun that was the size of a packet of cigarettes and a delicious chocolate cake the size of the matchbox. Lunch took up 2 minutes of the 2 hour flight time.

We collected our baggage and prepared ourselves mentally for the onslaught of taxi touts and hotel scammers. From reading the Internet, this place is one of the worst, rivalling Asian cities. Only one type of cab is allowed to be outside International Arrivals and these charge 3.5RON (nearly $1) per km if they use the meter and if it isn’t a dodgy meter. Several other reputable companies operate and charge 1.8RON/km but they aren’t allowed access to International Arrivals. The trick is, to turn right on exiting, avoid all taxis and head through to the Arrival area, about 200m down the building. Here you wait for someone to arrive in a 1.8RON/km cab and grab it.

This trick worked for us and we set off for the 20km trip into the city. The roads were good, wide and the traffic quite light. This meant that our driver had a lot of opportunity to really open her up. He proved that you don’t need both, or even any hands on the wheel to go through large intersections at 90km/hr, a situation made all the more worrying because we didn’t have any seatbelts. Neither did Christine have any leg room because the driver had his seat reclined to 45 degrees, probably so he could have a nap if he got tired.

It was best not to look forward and just concentrate on the scenery, which mostly consisted of broad avenues, lush parklands and an IKEA store. Christine always likes to see IKEA in each city because she feels at home. One day we’ll have to go to Sweden.

We arrived safely (by sheer luck) at the Hotel Berthelot and the doorman came scurrying out to help with bags. Christine had her 17kg pack across her shoulder, golf bag style while I had mine on a trolley. “Let me help!” exclaimed the man, and took my trolley, leaving Christine to get down a flight of stairs. Despite this, everyone was very friendly and welcoming on check-in and produced some vouchers for a free beer each at the bar (the way to our hearts). The room was excellent and all looked good.

We unpacked, went downstairs to the bar, and settled in over a beer to research a tour out to Transylvania for some castle spotting. For some strange reason, every tour was unavailable for the next two days, our only days in Romania. I checked with the doorman whether there was a reason and he just shrugged and said, “No not Mondays. It is a rule.”

“What about Tuesdays?”

“Tuesdays are OK but then maybe not!”

This proved to be the limits to our insight into the situation, except that we couldn’t find a tour that operated either day. A waiter promised to help us, and scurried away, bring back Adrian, the night time receptionist, who was keen to moonlight as a tour guide. Adrian assessed our tour needs then announced that he could take us to two castles (including Draculas) and experience some local food and wine. We assumed it would be on Tuesday, Monday being against the rules but Adrian felt that it might rain on Tuesday so Monday it was. He had ways and means of getting us into the castle. The conversation was filled with expressions such as “Let me tell you… You need to know….Listen to me….”. It was all very mysterious but we agreed to the trip for 200€, a lot but potentially a great day.

From there, we headed out to check out the area and find food. The place was absolutely dead, and it was only Sunday. I’d hate to see Monday. It was so bad we eventually arrived back and ate in.

23 July Bucharest and Transylvania

Adrian was waiting as promised with his car, freshly washed in our honour. On our way out of Bucharest, he did a bit of a quick tour, pointing out the various buildings of note and the Revolution Square, where the dictator Ceausescu spoke to the masses from the balcony in a futile attempt to prevent his overthrow.

We stopped briefly outside the Palace of the Parliament for photographs. This is the World’s second largest building after the Pentagon and was the personal project of the megalomanic Ceausescu. Its twelve storeys and broad facade is impressive but it is the total area, 8 below ground levels and 1,100 rooms that give the building its impressive bulk. Although basically complete at the time of the revolution, much of the interior was unfurnished and had remained so to avoid excesses. It now houses the various legislative bodies of Romania.

Along the way, Adrian filled us in on many aspects of life in Romania. He is quite widely travelled and fluent in several European languages, yet he clearly has a passionate love of Romania. We travelled North through Ploeisti, an industrial city with numerous oil refineries and related industries. Then it was into the Carpathian Mountains and an increasingly rural scene.

This is the area known as Transylvania, evoking visions of dark places and vampires. However, what we saw was very different, with numerous small hamlets dotting the mountain slopes and picture postcard scenes in abundance. Locals worked with quaint horse drawn carts and hay stacks were managed with pitchforks. We saw some wheat harvest in progress using modern equipment, but in general the fields were small and crops varied from sunflower or grapes to wheat and barley. Both sheep and dairy cattle were in good numbers. At one point, road works held us up for a few minutes and berry sellers came down the line, offering baskets of blackberries and raspberries to the waiting drivers. Adrian told us that they had been picked wild from the surrounding forests. As we climbed higher into the mountains, the forest density increased, mostly conifers but with some oak. Even higher up, the forest is almost exclusively fir and beech.

The first stop was the town of Sinaia, a lower alpine town that caters for both the summer crowds who escape the heat and the winter crowd who take advantage of the abundant ski fields. The town looked terrific, full of tourists and eateries. We stopped in at Peles Castle, built at the end of the 19^th Century by King Carol I of Romania, the first monarch of the unified nation. It was built in the Saxon style and heavily decorated with ornate murals and embellishments. Unfortunately, despite Adrian’s best efforts, the Monday rule held fast and we were only able to inspect the outside of the building, the inside being closed for the Monday thing. However, just the outside was worth the visit.

After a relaxing ale on the terrace overlooking the castle, we set off for the town of Brasov, higher into the mountains, to catch a cable car ride up to the top of a nearby peak. This was two car system, one up and one down, with each car taking fifty passengers. With a seven minute turn around and a long queue, we had to wait quite a while, during which time some guys tried hard to convince us to take a ride in their beaten up old Landcruiser up the mountain instead. Christine just took one look at the mountain towering nearly 2000m above us and declared the idea out of bounds.

The trip was very exciting and incredibly scenic. At times, we were skimming by the tops of the fir trees and at others, soaring over cascading waterfalls or rocky canyons. After passing each tower, the car rocked and swayed, producing many “Oohs and Ahhs” from the passengers. As we travelled higher, we passed the tree line and the vegetation gave way to alpine grasses and bare rock. Here we could see the dusty rocky track that the four wheel drives take and we were glad to be safe in the cable car.

Once on the mountain, we took a short walk to capture some better views. Another cable car continued over the peak and down to a tiny village below, no doubt servicing skiers during the winter. The air was cool, even cold when the breeze picked up. Adrian told us that he’d spent a week camping up here in one of the tiny huts when he was a child. I would have thought a half a day would do.

The highlight was the trip down, especially when the car passed over a couple of huge cliffs. It was stepping off into a void, a feeling accentuated as the car pitched forward a little as it passed under a tower. I’d love to see and experience this place in the autumn or spring, when there is a layer of snow, although the thought of the minus twenty experienced sometimes in Winter doesn’t do much for me.

Back down, we set off once again for Bran Castle, locally referred to as Dracula’s Castle. In reality, this is a bit of a long bow to draw, because Dracula was a fictional character from Bram Stoker’s novel of 1897. Stoker drew inspiration for the character from Vlad Dracula (also known as Vlad the Impaler) who was a bloodthirsty ruler of nearby Walachia from 1456 to 1462. He has been accredited with creating a forest of 1500 impaled heads of invading Saracens. Vlad possibly spent some time at Bran Castle. Bran Stoker never actually visited Transylvania, but drew on descriptions of its forests and mountains for inspiration in writing Dracula.

Regardless, the castle is absolutely wonderful. It was built in the late 14^th Century by Saxons to guard access to the Bran Pass, which links Walachia and Transylvania. It also exacted a tax on all who passed, making it a profitable spot, much as it is today. A healthy crowd wandered through the castle, inspecting the collection of furniture and odd pieces of armour. Much of the castle’s interior is wood, massive oak beams and twisting winding wooden staircases. Christine managed the spiral stairs very well and even climbed up a stone tower in close to total darkness. Her hatred of steep stairs has certainly diminished during our time in Europe, probably through necessity. The castle was a seemingly endless maze of rooms and turrets, connected with tiny passageways and low doors. Even if an invading army had every managed to penetrate the walls, they probably would have gotten lost before they found the occupants. In fact, the castle remained unconquered, being a strategic military site until into the 17^th Century. It really would make the most wonderful summer home, but Winter would be another matter altogether.

Outside the castle, the vampire trade and Transylvanian folklore stuff was in full swing, with the streets of Bran awash with scary nicknacks. The crazy thing is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula was not actually published in Romanian until 1990.

By this time, Adrian was starting to get nervous about the time. He’d worked a night shift for 12 hours prior to our 8am start and had only managed a couple of hours kip in the quiet times. He grabbed another 45 minutes while we were in the castle, then it was off back to Bucharest. We both got a little nervous as the speed increased, especially on the switchback roads on the mountain faces but we just had to grin and bear it. The traffic was heavy in spots and thankfully even Adrian couldn’t see any point in passing cars in a slow moving line. However, he made up for this by talking on the phone a lot and changing gears with the other hand, leaving the steering wheel to do its own thing. I just closed my eyes and thought about the irony of actually dying in Transylvania.

He pulled over at a roadside stall that was selling a popular dish called Mici. This is a small meatball type dish made from a mix of pork and beef, then grilled over a wood fire and served with lashings of mustard sauce and bread. It was very, very good and very cheap. He promised to drive slower so we wouldn’t lose our meal, but apparently, we was joking, because the speed really ramped up as we got out of the mountains. We pulled on to a brand new motorway, only open a week, and carrying little traffic. This was the signal to make up for lost time, and at 170km/hr, Christine felt compelled to ask, “What is the speed limit?”

“About 140,” relied Adrian, “but they don’t take your licence away until you do more than 50 over the speed limit so we can go up to 190.”

“That won’t stop me screaming,” Christine pointed out. It seemed to have some effect, with Adrian dropping the speed to a comfortable 160.

We finally reached the hotel with 10 minutes to spare, exhausted but very pleased with the day (especially to have survived it). The best part of the day was the insight into Romanian life we gained along the way. We talked endlessly with Adrian, and his English was such that we could ask any question or share any observation. The scenery was incredible, the castles perfect and the cable car ride exhilarating. What more could one ask?

24 July Bucharest

The man aim of the day was to explore Bucharest itself further. With Adrian’s advice, we at least had a few aims. We had a bit of a guide book provided by the hotel, an iPhone App listing some things in Carae Victorei (Victory Avenue), one of the main drags, but otherwise, it is hard to get a good handle on what to see. This is probably because there isn’t much to see. Interesting buildings are certainly on show and there are some lovely shaded avenues and parks but the city really doesn’t hold its own against the other places we’ve been.

Signs of neglect are everywhere, yet there is more building and renovation going on than elsewhere in Europe. The electrical grid looks more like parts of Asia than Europe. Despite these signs, Romania has the highest rate of economic growth in Europe, although with the current crisis that doesn’t mean all that much. Things are steadily improving.

We walked a long way down Calae Victorei, passing a few casinos and numerous high end shops, such as Gucci, Louis Vitton and the likes. The casinos seem to be everywhere, ranging from big places linked to large hotels to small clubs called “Slot Clubs”, although another similar term comes to mind. Strip joins and pole dancing clubs are in abundance, along with more sex aid shops than exist in the rest of the World. Bucharest seems to be focussing more on attracting visitors who want to do something rather than see something.

The highlight is certainly the old town. Whereas other cities have an old town dating back to medieval times, Bucharest’s mostly dates back to only the 19^th Century. Here things are much neater and many of the buildings have a stately air. There are strings of restaurants offering extensive al-fresco dining at low cost and covering a good range of cuisines. Much of the area is pedestrian only.

We did seek out a couple of landmarks, including the

, a beautiful old Greek Orthodox church with wonderful murals on the outside, and a couple of coffee shops and eating areas famous as meeting points for the artistic set around the turn of the 19th Century. We wanted to sample the cakes Casa Capsa, a particularly famous cake and coffee house that supplied the royalty of Europe at one stage but, being a Tuesday, it was closed. So we turned our attention to the National History Museum, which had an interesting looking line up. Of course, being a Tuesday, it was closed.

After an afternoon rest, we headed back out at night to the old city area to enjoy a great meal at a Lebanese Restaurant. We are not well-versed in Lebanese Cuisine and it has taken a visit to Romania to get us going but what we ate had us convinced to sample more. I don’t think it will get us to Lebanon itself though.

25 July Bucharest

Our train for Budapest was scheduled for 7pm so we had almost the whole day to kill, having organised a late check out. We had decided to try a museum, it being Wednesday and a day for things to open. We did a spot of research and settled on the Peasant Museum because it offered insight into the past life of rural Romania and the Carpathians. We’d follow this up with a visit to one of the new mega-mall shopping complexes that are appearing. The next trick was to actually locate these places and plan a route on the Metro. Again, this is much harder than in other cities because simple things like Metro Maps are hard to obtain.

Fortunately, the Metro is ridiculously cheap and we had bought a ten trip ticket knowing that it would never get used up because it was only the same prices as three single trips anyway. The stations and trains may lack the glamour and glitz of Singapore but they are functional and probably cleaner than those in Paris. Our research was found to be rather defective in practice and we ended up with quite a walk to reach the Peasant Museum but at least that was through lovely wooded parkland.

We paid our 3 Ron each, having been automatically granted a Senior’s discount, and entered the first display area. At that point, the smart move would have been to turn around and leave again but we pressed on through a display standard that wouldn’t pass muster at a school fete. Samples of peasant clothing and small household artefacts were scattered at random with only the odd sign in English by way of explanation. The place was airless and musty. We were so bored! This is despite the fact that the guide books say that the Peasant Museum is the pick of Romanian Museums. The place was heavily staffed, each hall or display having one or two attendants. These poor people had to sit on chairs and read, write or text each other all day long.

Filled with a knowledge of peasant life, we navigated the Metro once more and again got a bit lost trying to find the new Mega Mall. Once located, it was just like any other giant complex, with all the usual shops, including a Marks and Spencer, Clarks Shoes and store names familiar around the World. One unique feature was an ice-skating rink sitting in the middle of the complex, surrounded by fast food spots.

We tried a Pizza outlet for lunch, ordering a Marguerita Pizza and a drink each. The pizza took a while to arrive and when it did, we queried the seeming lack of tomato. It appeared to be just cheese and nothing else. The girl said that the tomato sauce would be inside the mozzarella, and lifted the cheese with a knife. Finding nothing, she took it away and promised a new pizza. How could you forget the tomato? We ordered more drinks, but had to repeat the order when none came. When we paid, they short changed us 5 RON, a very common thing in Romania. It seems that people will automatically take a tip, and getting all your change requires a long drawn out argument. We were certainly ready to get on our train.

At the train station, I started to take a few photos, but immediately got into trouble. Apparently, it is not allowed. I’d previously got into trouble for using the iPhone to take a photo of a sign in the Metro so we could remember the name of the station.

The train to Budapest was ready on time and we boarded to find our compartment. We had booked a 1^st Class Sleeper with en-suite, a really nice self contained unit, very clean and modern. It had a nice shower with beautiful hot water. What was missing was towels, soap and toilet paper, all of which had to be requested.

The scenery was the same beautiful vistas of Transylvania that we’d enjoyed days before but it took on a slightly different point from the train. At times I was reminded of a model train set, with the fir trees, little stone stations, alpine houses and piles of neatly stacked lumber. As long as we didn’t just travel around a continuous circuit we were right.

The dining car was well appointed and we decided to try dinner. The man gave us a menu and advised that the grill was the way to go. Now we’d previously read about the dining car on this train on the excellent web site www.exploreforayear.com. It was a hilarious experience and one that our experiences with Romania could relate to. Forewarned, we soldiered on.

“So you get pork cutlets, chips and salad for only 13RON,” queried Christine, knowing it to be untrue.

“Yes,” replied our man.

“And you don’t have to pay extra for the salads?”

“No. All here,” he said.

“OK,” we agreed and ordered two serves. A Slovak family watched on in amusement and said that they would see how we fared.

The meal itself was excellent, with beautiful pork cutlets, lashings of delicious salad and chips covered in grilled cheese. It was a huge meal and we could easily have shared one. With a couple of beers thrown in, we figured the bill to be 42RON (about $10) and we had 70RON left.

Along came our man with his calculator, entered a string of figures from his head and wanted 82RON. Christine asked for the menu and showed him the prices.

“Ah no!” was his response, “It is extra for the chips and the salad.” The Slovak family were cracking up.

“This is how it is done,” said our man. We handed over our 70RON, happy to be left without any Romanian money, and topped him up with 3 Euros, another win for the man. It is so bad you have to laugh. The Romanians wonder why they have an underserved bad reputation in Europe.

Meanwhile, the Slovak family ordered two meals for three people and at least knew fully what they were up for.

The night trip was good and we both got plenty of sleep.