Jenni
& Joe
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Transylvania,
Romania
Wednesday,
August 22
After a 13-hour train ride, we have to rush off the train in
a panic! That's because we were sleepy and the conductor forgot to tell us that
we were approaching Brasov, Romania (usually they give you about a 15-minute warning).
Besides, we thought we had another hour but the time changes one hour forward
when you go into Romania and we didn't realize it. We end up having to actually
put our shoes back on while standing on the platform. 
We
quickly check over our bags to make sure we got everything before the train takes
off again. Not a fun feeling. We must have had a panicky look in our eyes when
a blue-eyed woman who promises she "won't bite" gently accosts us. We slowly realize
we've met the legendary Maria, the renowned hotelier of Brasov (if there is a
way to gently accost someone, Maria can do it). Maria is world famous because
she has helped so many tourists through the years. Her name is mentioned in several
guidebooks and was recommended directly by a traveler we met on the Internet.
Her picture is even in a Japanese tour guide. (Don't believe us? Ask her - she'll
show you!) When we tell her we're gong to Bran, a tiny town nearby, she wrinkles
her nose. She says there is nothing to do in Bran, and that we will be bored.
The city of Brasov is bigger and more exciting, she exclaims. Because we are bone
tired, we almost fall for her very convincing sales pitch. But "quiet"
and "boring" are exactly what we are looking for, besides we have already
made reservations in Bran. So Maria makes no sale. She does, however, succeed
in making both of us paranoid about every person walking within two feet of us.
Maria tells us to beware of thieves that are everywhere, especially on the buses,
and convinces us they are going to cut open our bags and steal all of our stuff!
So we succumb to her (again, gentle) persuasion and take the taxi she lines up
to Bran for about $10. We figure our no-taxi rule is breakable in the face of
such assured thievery.
Once we arrive
in Bran, the nice taxi driver tries to show us other options to the reservations
we've made. We say "no," but he keeps driving past the Agro-tourism office where
we have made reservations. Continuing to yell, "stop!" we have to open the car
doors while it's moving to get him to drop us off before he drives us away to
some unknown part of Transylvania. The Agro-Tourism office is new, Gabriela, the
tourism office worker is nice and speaks rapid-fire Romanian. Thank goodness her
English is slower! 
The
bed-and-breakfast she has arranged for us is two miles outside of Bran, but we
want to look before we commit. Josefina, the landlady, picks us all up in her
car and drives us to her home. It's exactly what we want - very few sights to
see, no admissions to pay, no lines to stand in, no crowds to fight. Just quiet,
except for the roosters, sheep and dogs roaming around. It's perfect, and we wash
off the long train ride and take a luxurious nap. Dinner is served at 7:30 in
the small dining room in the traditional Romanian style - cheeses, fresh tomatoes,
onions and bread as a starter, with roasted chicken and an artichoke salad as
the meal. All washed down with a pitcher of wine and a small glass of belly-warming
vodka. There are several families staying here, but we are the only Americans.
The kids, who speak English, are watching the movie "Killer Bugs" on TV, and we
join them.
Thursday,
August 23
Breakfast is served much the same way as dinner - cheeses, tomatoes,
bread and butter, tea, and eggs, sunny-side up. Meals are not included in the
price of the room, but are quite affordable. Breakfast and dinner for both of
us costs 300,000 lei, or a total of $10. Well-fortified with such a meal, we walk
down and meet Nina and Nicoletta at the other Agro-Tourism office called ANTRAC.
We chat for about an hour with Nina about Bran and about Romania in general. Nina
is 23 years old, has just finished college in Paris and is about to start work
on her Ph.D. And she is very politically minded, so we predict she will end up
becoming a Member of Parliament some day. She laughs and agrees.
Nina give us directions to a hike through the hills to a fountain between small
villages along muddy roads and paths. We decide to go that direction because we
also wanted to locate a hostel in our guidebook called the Moto-Rom, which is
in the same neighborhood. We heard they rent bikes there. Along the way, we meet
an older Romanian man walking in one of the little villages and he shouts at us
quite excitedly. "Where are you from, Vienna, Berlin? Francia?" he yells in Romanian.
We tell him we're Americans. His eyes get wide … "Oh AMERI-CANS," he hollers as
he pumps Joe's hand, and then cheek-kisses Jenni. Then he looks at Joe, smiles
toothlessly, and kisses Jenni on the lips! It's a bit surprising, but we figure
it's a Romanian custom. Some amused neighbors who were cutting their grass into
hay with scythes have stopped working to watch the show. The man continues to
yell and try to talk to us but we don't understand anything he's saying. So, when
it's time to move on, the man's goodbye gesture is exactly like the hello gesture
- he again shakes Joe's hand and kisses Jenni on the cheeks and then, once again,
SQUARE ON THE MOUTH. Later on, we told a few people what happened and they belly-laughed!
It turns out that kissing on the lips is NOT a Romanian custom! We had just stumbled
into a dirty old man!
By
now, it's early afternoon and the skies are dark. Then lightning strikes … Thunder
starts to crash more and more closely (and we are wandering further up into the
hills of Transylvania, mind you!) and the rain starts to fall just as we reach
a dark castle to seek shelter. A small, hunchbacked man answers the door … Ha
ha! Just kidding. Transylvania is just not like that … but the thunder did get
our imaginative juices flowing!
Actually,
we ducked into shelter at the Moto-Rom, a German-run Bed and Breakfast tucked
away in the mountains that caters to the motorbike fans in Germany. Alvin, the
young owner, (on the right in the yellow t-shirt) is from Bavaria. He is an avid
motorcyclist who loves to ride his dirt bike into the hills. So he decided to
open a place in Transylvania that caters mostly to German and Austrian clientele
who share his passion. He buses the bikers and their motorcycles in from Germany
and Austria into Transylvania for a week of riding dirt bikes in the mountains.
Apparently it's quite prohibitive to do this back in Germany - it is costly and
hard to find places to ride. Alvin's hotel is cozy, well built and intimate. We
had wanted to stay here but the guidebook had the wrong number listed, so we ended
up making reservations through the local Agro-tourism bureau. (That's a government
agency that sets up local people's homes as places for tourists to stay.) We'll
come here next time. 
The
rain gets harder but Alvin swears it will stop raining in 5 minutes. It's slow
this afternoon, so the young staff hangs out with us in the restaurant-bar while
we drink a couple of beers and wait for the rain to stop. German-born Sven, one
of the motorbike guides, speaks very good English because he had spent a year
in California as an exchange student. Elena is Romanian and is hoping to be hired
by the Norwegian Cruise Lines to travel the world. And Carmen is an engineer who
teaches high-school students in Romania. They are great conversationalists and
we are grateful to them for spending a few hours with us. 
They
also let us eat apples we picked right off the trees. Our long visit was a very
special treat! After our visit, they are nice enough to give us a ride back into
town since it's still raining well past the five minutes that Alvin promised it
would stop! Special thanks to our friends at the Moto-Rom for your hospitality
and good luck with the business!
Now back in Bran, we decide to wait out the rain by having a cup of coffee and a snack. But the rain keeps coming down, so we eat an early dinner. The restaurant we stumble into doesn't seem too promising - with its loud TV, indifferent service and threadbare menus - but the food is fabulous. We eat traditional Romanian food of a food called Mititei (pronounced "Meesh") and a lovely dish called sarmale and mamaliga, a kind of cabbage wrapped around pork and a sort of cornmeal/mashed potato-type side dish. The bill is delicious too: only 118,000lei, or about $4.75 for both of us! We then walk the two miles home in the growing darkness, along a two-lane highway with no shoulder.
Friday, August 24
Romanian trains require you to make reservations
for overnight trains a full day in advance, so today, after a breakfast of Romanian-style
omelettes, cheese, bread, butter and jelly, we are headed to the city of Brasov
to make those arrangements. (You cannot make reservations over the phone in Romania,
and Bran does not have a train office.) Buses are supposed to run every half-hour
to Brasov, but first you have to find the unmarked bus stop along the road. We
wait over an hour in the rain with a handful of locals. The bus arrives and we
easily find a seat. Thank goodness we've gotten on the bus near our B&B! Two stops
later, the bus stop in Bran is crowded, and people ended up jamming into the bus
standing shoulder-to-shoulder. And just when we think it's too full, more people
get on. Farmhands from a nearby town jump on carrying their tools (including 6-foot
scythes, no less!) for the hour-long ride. Once in Burgas, we make it to the train
station only to find out the train personnel cannot make reservations for our
travel into Bulgaria. So the clerk points us to the travel agency across the way.
This clerk tells us there is indeed a direct train through to our destination
in Bulgaria. But there's a catch. She says there's no way to make a reservation,
so she says we should simply show up before the train leaves and pay the conductor
directly for a seat. This sounds a little too risky, so we decide to go to one
more office. This one is in the middle of town, about a mile's public bus ride
away. No help here either. Asked for information about Bulgaria, the clerks have
nothing to say except, "It is not possible!" to travel to Bulgaria. The best they
can (or will) do is arrange for travel to the Bulgarian border. After that, we
are on our own. Really, we would rather not be "on our own" at the Bulgarian border.
For about 45 minutes, we insist it has to be "POSSIBLE" and demand they keep looking.
This makes it very uncomfortable for the clerks and the people in line behind
us, but we just keep asking for more and more clerks and supervisors until we
realize it's fruitless. It's not possible because they don't want it to be possible.
(Later, we read in a guidebook that it's still quite difficult to actually buy
tickets into Bulgaria...not sure why.) We decide to give up … for now. But we
vow to find a way to make it to Bulgaria. It is ALWAYS POSSIBLE in our minds.
Such Americans, we are.
In light of the unknowns ahead regarding Bulgaria, we decide to e-mail our parents to let them know our plans in case we disappear at the Bulgarian border. The Internet connection in Brasov is maddeningly slow, reminding us of how high our expectations have become when it comes to fast access. We wrap up in enough time to catch one the last buses back to Bran where we run into Nina again, the wonderfully helpful lady from the Agro-Tourism office who had given us directions for the mountain hike. She invites us to a special dinner honoring a group of Polish guests from the sister-city of Bran. Joe immediately decides to accept her invitation (which initially provides for some issues between us.) But it turns out to be one of the most memorable adventures of our entire trip. We are especially grateful to Nina for this unexpected invitation!
Saturday,
August 25
It's an easy day today. We sleep late, eat a solitary lunch
as the other bed-and-breakfast guests are elsewhere for the afternoon. In the
late afternoon, we walk to Bran to see the knick-knacks for sale at the Bazaar
Dracula. They barely have anything to sell that's Dracula-related. Don't they
get it? This could be schlock heaven for Dracula-lovers! They could easily double
their sales by selling more Dracula souvenirs and fewer little wooden salt-and-pepper
shakers (one of which Jenni plunked down 20,000 lei for, or about $0.75).
We
are invited guests to see a special event at 5:00 PM. A Sister City agreement
will be formally signed between the Polish city and Bran. But we are thwarted…the
event is held in the castle and the security guard won't let us in. We keep trying,
but he doesn't end up letting us into the castle gates until the event is over.
At that point, the gates open to the public for folk dancing shows by the locals.
We stay and watch for a while, and chat with the Polish TV crew for more than
an hour. On the way home, we stop by a tiny store and buy pretzels, some local
red wine and chocolate, and head back to the Bed and Breakfast.
We stop to chat with a neighbor girl who has puppies. Jenni falls in love with
a little guy who falls asleep in her arms. Joe is fascinated by the chicken coop.
We have a short chat with the neighbor girl, 17-year old Alice, who says she has
no intention of ever moving to the city. With all this gorgeous landscape, we
can see why!
Sunday,
August 26
It's finally hiking day! We eat our omelette breakfat around
8:00 a.m. and head for the hills. After a 5 hour adventure (see the JOURNAL
for the details), we hitchhike back to Bran for a quick tour of Bran Castle. There
is not much to see inside, but it's fun to poke around and take pictures. We spend
3 dollars on a useless guide book that only says a couple of words about Dracula,
and spends the rest of the pages describing Bran's role as a military outpost
and toll booth for the Transylvanian government. 
After
the tour, Jenni heads back to the pension. Joe stays behind to watch a folk dance
festival in the free camping grounds near the Bran Castle. The dancing goes on
for a couple of hours with mostly children dancing in their traditional costumes.
Then a guy with a saxophone gets on the stage and starts playing a fast song.
Everyone starts cheering, then the entire crowd joins in and links arms in a huge
dance. All the dancers have smiles on their faces as they kick their legs and
twist their bodies into the sunset. Dinner is at 8:00 and is again wonderful.
Grilled chicken and Mititei … that mixed-meat sausage. We show Josefina, our landlady,
our Web site. For us, the photos we have taken are completely foreign. Rural landscapes,
haystacks that look odd, people dancing an unusual dance. For Josefina, these
are her neighbors and she has fun picking them out of the crowds. Early bedtime.