I re-read Bram Stoker's Dracula in July and was completely enchanted by his description of the Transylvanian countryside. I decided to put it at the top of my travel wish-list and as I had a week before starting my new job at Quintessentially, thought it to be the perfect opportunity for a little adventure. Since Romania seemed to run alongside my eastern european travel theme this year, I picked-up the phone to call Claudia.
I met Claudia when we were assigned to the same temporary job for a week last December. Originally from Sibiu and a world traveller herself, Claudia spent a number of years working on a cruise line (where she met her South African husband Jarred). We hit it off immediately and she soon became one of my best friends in London.
Claudia asked me 3 questions when I told her of my travel plans to Romania:
'Do you know where you're staying?' she asked.
'Not yet' I replied.
'Do you know how to get around?' she asked again.
Bus? Walk? Hitchhike? 'Not yet.'
'Do you know how to speak Romanian?'
'Not yet' I joked, as I actually had no intention of learning the language.
'Ok, you'll wait until September when I'm going home for a wedding and you can come with me then' she said. Amazing.
I arrived at Sibiu National Airport on Saturday September 19th. I honestly do not remember the last time someone has greeted me at the airport, but it is hands-down one of the best feelings in the world. Landing in a foreign country always produces a rush of nervous excitement which is absolutely thrilling, but travelling is still exhausting and stressful and sometimes there is nothing more comforting than seeing a familiar face on the other-side.
Claudia was kind enough to invite me to stay with her. Her parents still live in the apartment Claudia grew up in just outside of the city, and although they had a full house with Claudia and Jarred visiting, one of their neighbours had a spare room in the apartment just below theirs that I was permitted to set up camp in for the week. Neither of Claudia's parents spoke English, but I felt like we understood each other just fine. She welcomed me into the kitchen where she had prepared a feast of homemade dips, cheeses, meat assortments, fresh bread, and motioned me to eat.
'Thank you, but i just ate on the plane' I said.
Her scowl said that she wasn't taking no for an answer, so I humoured her by taking a few bites. She still looked upset when I didn't finish everything on the table. Claudia's dad asked me something in Romanian as he went into their pantry which Claudia translated: 'Would you like something sweet?'
'No really, Claudia how do you say full? Plein, plein, I'm plein, no more please' I replied.
He reappeared out of the pantry with a bottle of something red regardless. 'Palinka,' Claudia explained. 'Our traditional household Vodka most families make.' He poured a shot and instructed me to drink it. Typically, Palinka has at least 40% ABV. This one must have had 80% and I struggled not to react as it burned down my throat.
With my buzz on I went down to drop off my luggage and meet my host Maria, who also had a shot of Palinka on the table waiting for me. You guys really know how to party here, I'm going to be drunk before 3 p.m. at this rate. Maria was a lovely lady, but didn't speak English either, so we used google translate and played charades to communicate.
'Thank you, but i just ate on the plane' I said.
Her scowl said that she wasn't taking no for an answer, so I humoured her by taking a few bites. She still looked upset when I didn't finish everything on the table. Claudia's dad asked me something in Romanian as he went into their pantry which Claudia translated: 'Would you like something sweet?'
'No really, Claudia how do you say full? Plein, plein, I'm plein, no more please' I replied.
He reappeared out of the pantry with a bottle of something red regardless. 'Palinka,' Claudia explained. 'Our traditional household Vodka most families make.' He poured a shot and instructed me to drink it. Typically, Palinka has at least 40% ABV. This one must have had 80% and I struggled not to react as it burned down my throat.
With my buzz on I went down to drop off my luggage and meet my host Maria, who also had a shot of Palinka on the table waiting for me. You guys really know how to party here, I'm going to be drunk before 3 p.m. at this rate. Maria was a lovely lady, but didn't speak English either, so we used google translate and played charades to communicate.
I See You |
Sibiu Old Town |
During our road-trips around Transylvania in the following days, I caught myself staring out the window and daydreaming about what it would have been like to live back in the medieval era, riding on horseback for days on end while journeying from castle to castle. I asked Claudia if there was somewhere nearby that offered horseback riding, and it turns out there was. The next morning Claudia and I ventured out to the Pensiunea Brandusa ranch on the forest's edge.
I'm typically not a fan of horseback riding in countries that require you to sign any type of safety waiver for I've found they are the ones that strictly enforce a maximum walking pace slightly slower than that which I believe a hungover turtle would cruise along at. Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, and Romania (which I was soon to discover), let you jump on a saddle without instruction and leave you at the mercy of the temperament of the horse which you are attached to for the next two hours. Luckily I got paired with one as keen to explore as me. Claudia's on the other hand, was more interested in stopping every meter for a 'side of the trail bush' snack and then to poop it out shortly afterwards. Sorry Claudia. She was a good sport about it though.
Aside from the pooping, there is something so romantic about travelling by horseback. It's a natural means of transportation where you are connected to another being that you are able to form a real life connection with instead of an inanimate object such as a car or bus. They let you appreciate your surroundings untainted by the noise of a motor, and the surge of built up energy released when they run wild is unparalleled. Mick Jagger even harnessed his appreciation into the top hit 'Wild Horses'.
The next morning we planned a day trip to Sighisoara but as we sat around the breakfast table I asked Claudia about her life growing up in Sibiu. I didn't realise that it wasn't until 1989 that communism lifted in Romania, only one year before I was born. Furthermore, I didn't grasp the extent that this affected Claudia until she recounted her childhood of food stamps and waiting in line at 5 a.m. to ensure her family received their daily rations. As horrible as I imagined that life to be, I was even more astounded at her parents opinion of their forced lifestyle. To my shock, they actually preferred their country under communist rule, and they weren't alone in thinking this. The entire population was accustomed to the same daily routine of waking up to attend school or work in the factor, that they experienced a self-identity crisis when it was halted. Overnight the country overturned leaving half of the population unemployed. Crime and theft spiraled out of control and depression was at an all time high as people fell short of reasons to leave their homes. Freedom always comes with a price, and the stakes were high in this case. Luckily Romania's land is as fertile as they come, and turning to agriculture was an easy alternative to fuel their economy after the factories shut down.
On the hour drive to Sighisoara, Claudia pointed at the houses lined in a row next to the road and explained that most of them had small self-contained farms on their property out back. One of these houses belonged to her cousin and on the way home we stopped in for a visit and tour of their yard which sure enough held two pigs, a chicken coop, and endless amounts of fruit and vegetables (I must say the grapes were divine). When I asked her aunt where they sold their crops she laughed and replied it was all for their own personal use. Can I move in?
Sighisoara gained fame in the tourism sector after Bram Stoker's novel was published as it was indeed where Vlad Druacula was born (although he most notably reigned in a castle which is inconveniently located in the middle of nowhere and you have to dedicate a few days to travel if you wish to see it).
My favorite part of the Sighisoara was the cemetery situated next to the Bergkirche church, an iconic monument of noteworthy gothic architecture situated on the top of a hill overlooking the town. There wasn't another person in sight that afternoon and the sunlight shimmered through the trees and we weaved through tombstones in silence, alone with our thoughts. Death is dark and tragic, but it's mystery entices a beauty comparable to that of life. Standing in the cemetery I was enfolded into a state of absolute serenity as I took in my surroundings and reflected on everything I had come to know about this country. Transylvania had most certainly surpassed my expectations and I can say without doubt that I will return to it again one day.
I'm typically not a fan of horseback riding in countries that require you to sign any type of safety waiver for I've found they are the ones that strictly enforce a maximum walking pace slightly slower than that which I believe a hungover turtle would cruise along at. Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, and Romania (which I was soon to discover), let you jump on a saddle without instruction and leave you at the mercy of the temperament of the horse which you are attached to for the next two hours. Luckily I got paired with one as keen to explore as me. Claudia's on the other hand, was more interested in stopping every meter for a 'side of the trail bush' snack and then to poop it out shortly afterwards. Sorry Claudia. She was a good sport about it though.
Aside from the pooping, there is something so romantic about travelling by horseback. It's a natural means of transportation where you are connected to another being that you are able to form a real life connection with instead of an inanimate object such as a car or bus. They let you appreciate your surroundings untainted by the noise of a motor, and the surge of built up energy released when they run wild is unparalleled. Mick Jagger even harnessed his appreciation into the top hit 'Wild Horses'.
The next morning we planned a day trip to Sighisoara but as we sat around the breakfast table I asked Claudia about her life growing up in Sibiu. I didn't realise that it wasn't until 1989 that communism lifted in Romania, only one year before I was born. Furthermore, I didn't grasp the extent that this affected Claudia until she recounted her childhood of food stamps and waiting in line at 5 a.m. to ensure her family received their daily rations. As horrible as I imagined that life to be, I was even more astounded at her parents opinion of their forced lifestyle. To my shock, they actually preferred their country under communist rule, and they weren't alone in thinking this. The entire population was accustomed to the same daily routine of waking up to attend school or work in the factor, that they experienced a self-identity crisis when it was halted. Overnight the country overturned leaving half of the population unemployed. Crime and theft spiraled out of control and depression was at an all time high as people fell short of reasons to leave their homes. Freedom always comes with a price, and the stakes were high in this case. Luckily Romania's land is as fertile as they come, and turning to agriculture was an easy alternative to fuel their economy after the factories shut down.
On the hour drive to Sighisoara, Claudia pointed at the houses lined in a row next to the road and explained that most of them had small self-contained farms on their property out back. One of these houses belonged to her cousin and on the way home we stopped in for a visit and tour of their yard which sure enough held two pigs, a chicken coop, and endless amounts of fruit and vegetables (I must say the grapes were divine). When I asked her aunt where they sold their crops she laughed and replied it was all for their own personal use. Can I move in?
Sighisoara gained fame in the tourism sector after Bram Stoker's novel was published as it was indeed where Vlad Druacula was born (although he most notably reigned in a castle which is inconveniently located in the middle of nowhere and you have to dedicate a few days to travel if you wish to see it).
My favorite part of the Sighisoara was the cemetery situated next to the Bergkirche church, an iconic monument of noteworthy gothic architecture situated on the top of a hill overlooking the town. There wasn't another person in sight that afternoon and the sunlight shimmered through the trees and we weaved through tombstones in silence, alone with our thoughts. Death is dark and tragic, but it's mystery entices a beauty comparable to that of life. Standing in the cemetery I was enfolded into a state of absolute serenity as I took in my surroundings and reflected on everything I had come to know about this country. Transylvania had most certainly surpassed my expectations and I can say without doubt that I will return to it again one day.
Bergkirche Church and Cemetery |
Into The Fog |